Human Mate of the Alpha: Marked with his Scent

It felt as though an invisible hand had wrapped itself around my throat.

Only after a long while did I finally regain a shred of composure. My voice trembled as I asked, "Why?"

Why cheat on me, only to go register our marriage afterward? Why wait until the happiest moment of my life to cruelly tell me the truth?

Emily Adair stared at me for a second, stunned.

Then, she suddenly burst into loud laughter.

"Dylan, you won."

I looked at her blankly, unable to understand.

The next second, a familiar voice came through the car speakers.

"Then don't forget to wear the black stockings I bought you tonight."

My eyes widened in disbelief.

It felt as though every drop of blood in my body was slowly turning to ice.

"I made a bet with Dylan about how you'd react after finding out I cheated. I said you'd get angry and slap me. He said you'd only ask why. If I won, he'd use the scent I like. If he won…"

Emily smiled meaningfully.

"You heard it yourself, didn't you?"

As if answering her, Dylan James's voice sounded from the speakers again.

"Anthony, are you even a man? It's been five years. When your wife cheats on you, all you can do is ask why."

He paused before continuing, smug and venomous.

"But your taste in women is pretty good. I like this one too."

Their mocking laughter made my limbs go numb.

In a daze, I felt as though I'd been dragged back to five years ago.

I had cut my business trip short, planning to surprise my ex-wife, Jessica Lawrence, for her birthday.

But when I opened the door, I found Jessica and Dylan tangled together beside the bed.

The moment she saw me, Jessica panicked and scrambled to get dressed.

Dylan, however, lounged against the sofa and lit a cigarette with smug ease.

"Sorry, buddy. Being single for too long got lonely, so I borrowed your wife for a bit."

In an instant, my blood ran backward. I wanted nothing more than to stab him to death. But the moment I lifted my foot, all strength drained from my body, and I collapsed to one knee.

All I could do was ask them in despair, "Why?"

But as their mouths moved in explanation, it felt like my ears had been stuffed with cotton. I couldn't hear a single word.

It wasn't until blood began pouring from beneath Jessica, and she clutched my leg while begging for help, that I finally snapped back to my senses.

I carried her to the hospital as fast as I could, but we were still too late.

The doctor said their sex had been too rough, and Jessica's uterus was already too fragile. The baby couldn't be saved.

That night, I stood outside the hospital room and smoked until dawn, mourning my dead love, my ruined friendship… and my unborn child.