My Mate and Daughter's Betrayal

(Grace Morgan's POV)

When I arrived at Silvercliff International Airport in the Northern Territory, it was already past nine in the evening.

Today is my birthday, a day I used to look forward to every year, but no longer do.

I unlocked my phone, finding a flood of birthday messages from colleagues and friends. Nothing from Ethan. My mate. My husband. The Alpha King who had once promised to cherish me.

My lips curled into a thin, self-deprecating smile as disappointment settled heavily in my chest.

How ridiculous that it's been seven years since we mated and I'm still holding out these stupid hopes for Ethan.

The drive to Silver Manor passed in a blur of city lights and shadows. When Martha Wilson opened the door just past ten, her shock was impossible to disguise.

"Madam Silver, you... why are you here?" Her eyes widened, hands fluttering nervously at her apron.

"Hello, Martha." I tried to smile, but it felt brittle on my lips.

The large house felt unusually quiet.

There was no surprise welcome party as expected, no my partner rushing to hug me after a long absence.

"The Alpha King is out on pack business," Martha explained hastily. "And young Miss Emma is upstairs."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. The familiar chill hit me immediately—I had hoped for family warmth on my special day, but everything felt distant and cold, just as it had before I left.

Ascending the grand staircase, each step felt heavier than the last. The Silver family portraits watched me, a reminder that I had never truly belonged here.

I found Emma in her room, wearing simple pajamas, focused intently on a small table crowded with polished seashells and shimmering moonstone beads.

"Emmy?" My voice was soft, hopeful.

The little girl glanced back, her expression brightening momentarily. "Mom!" Then she immediately turned away, absorbed in stringing her necklace.

I crossed the room, wrapping my arms around her small frame, breathing in her familiar scent. My daughter. My sweet heart.

"Mom, don't touch me, I'm busy." She gently pushed my hand away, her head didn't look up, her brow even furrowed a little, and I sensed a hint of impatience.

Her impatience and rejection stung me, sharp and familiar.

I forced myself to change the subject, trying to keep my voice light despite the heaviness in my chest.

"Are you making the Moonstone Seashell Necklace?"

Emma nodded proudly, still not looking up. "Only one more week till Aunt Liv's birthday. This is the gift Father and I made for her."

My heart clenched at the mention of Olivia. My half-sister. The woman who seemed to have effortlessly claimed the place in my family that should have been mine.

"We polished every single shell," Emma continued, oblivious to my pain. "Isn't it beautiful?"

I stared at the necklace, trying to find words that wouldn't betray my hurt.

"Father even custom-ordered another present for her—tomorrow..." Emma added casually over her shoulder.

My throat tightened. "Emmy... do you remember what day it is today?" I asked softly. "My birthday?"

A bead slipped from Emma's grasp and rolled across the table.

The beads fell to the ground with a crisp sound that seemed to smash a hole in my heart.

"Oh god mom, please stop talking to me, you're screwing things up!" My daughter seemed to completely ignore what I said, she just screamed and pushed my hand away completely.

Silent and wounded, I released my hold and retreated from the room, the echo of my daughter's innocent rejection lingering painfully.

In the foyer downstairs, Martha's voice trembled slightly, filled with sympathy. "Madam Silver, I just spoke with the Alpha King. He said he's tied up with pack matters tonight—please rest first."

"I know," I replied softly, trying to steady my own voice, though the confirmation still stung.

I dialed Ethan's number, heart pounding against my ribs. After several long rings, his impatient voice finally came through.

"I'm tied up. We'll talk tomorrow—"

Before he finished, a softer, distinctly female voice interrupted faintly in the background. Olivia Stone.

I clenched the phone, my knuckles white, but he hung up before I could utter a single word.

Something inside me, worn thin by years of neglect, finally seemed to crack. Seven years since our mating ceremony, two months apart while he established our pack's presence here in the East, and I still foolishly hoped he might show some care, some acknowledgment of my arrival or my birthday.

Yet his impatience, his distance, felt painfully familiar now—years of coldness had carved a deep numbness into my heart, protection against the constant ache of our weakening mate bond.

This time, I resisted the desperate urge to call again. An overwhelming weariness washed over me, lulling me into a restless, troubled sleep.

Dawn brought the same hollow ache in my chest. I remembered the time difference between the territories but composed myself enough to send Ethan a text message: "Are you free for lunch? Bring Emma; let's celebrate my birthday together, just the three of us."

He replied tersely after a while: "Got it. Send the address."

A fragile flicker of hope ignited within me, quickly extinguished by his follow-up message minutes later: "Something's come up with pack council. Lunch is canceled."

Not a single thread of surprise ran through my veins—I was far too accustomed to his indifference, his priorities lying elsewhere.

Feeling empty and resigned, I drove towards the Moonlight Bistro, a place where we had shared rare, happier moments years ago.

Through the large glass window, I saw them: Ethan Silver, Olivia Stone, and Emma. Clustered together at a corner table, looking every bit the perfect family that we had never been.

Olivia laughed at something Ethan said, her head tilting back to reveal her elegant neck. Emma snuggled close against Olivia's side, more affectionate than she had been with me in months.

I watched, unseen, as Ethan carefully trimmed a piece of venison steak for Olivia, his gaze lingering on her face with an attentiveness I hadn't received in years.

Hurt bloomed hot and sharp within me, a physical pain accompanying the emotional blow. My wolf whimpered inside me, sensing my distress.

Quietly, I pulled my car back from the curb and drove away, the image burned into my mind.

Back at Silver Manor, I unpacked my emotions alongside the few belongings I'd brought. The suitcase felt too light, just like my place in this family.

I retrieved a crisp, cream-colored envelope bearing the Moonstone Pack's legal seal – it contained the Mate Separation Agreement I had drafted before leaving the Northern Territory.

My fingers trembled as I held it. Seven years ago, swept up in the whirlwind of pack alliances and youthful dreams, I believed love, patience, and sacrifice would eventually breach his defenses, that our mating bond would deepen with time.

But all I had accumulated were bruised hopes and unshed tears.

He was the Alpha King I'd admired from afar, bound to me by pack duty and family pressure rather than genuine affection. The truth had always been there, hidden beneath my desperate need to believe otherwise.

I recalled the gifts I'd carefully chosen from the Northern Territory – gifts for Ethan and Emma, now packed away again in my suitcase, rejected before they were even offered due to the cold reception.

The memory strengthened my resolve. I sealed the papers with newfound determination and handed them to a hesitant Martha.

"Please give this to the Alpha King when he returns."

Martha's eyes widened in understanding. "Madam Silver, perhaps you should wait—"

"I've waited seven years, Martha." My voice was steady, surprising even myself. "I can't wait anymore."

Each heartbeat echoed my painful awakening: I had to find my own value, my own path, beyond a loveless mating bond.

Dragging my suitcase back to the waiting car, I met the pack driver's questioning eyes and, in a steady voice that surprised even myself, instructed: "Take me back to the airport."