Chapter 3: Mate Bond

Elara's POV

I staggered into the bathroom and stared at the mirror.

The woman looking back was a stranger.

Five years. Five years I'd wasted playing the loyal wife, the selfless mother, the pathetic wolf-less Mate who deserved nothing but scorn.

I looked older than twenty-six. The dark circles under my eyes weren't just fatigue; they were etchings of loneliness. My cheekbones were too sharp, my mouth set in a permanent line of defiance against the endless stream of humiliations.

My whole life had been one long, agonizing uphill battle. 

I grew up with only my mother by my side. Her health was fragile, but her love for me was unwavering. We were poor—most days we barely had enough to eat—so I became small, thin, and weak. But as long as I was with her, I felt safe. I felt happy.

When she passed away, the only person who had ever loved me disappeared from my world. That was when life with my father began… and that was true hell. Endless chores, relentless exhaustion, and a single piece of bread each day—just enough to keep me alive, yet never enough to keep me strong.

And still, with that frail little body, I somehow managed to save him— the man I would later learn was my mate—when I found him half-dead in the forest. Even now, I have no idea where I found the strength to drag him all the way back to safety.

After we married, I finally had enough to eat every day. But instead of warmth or gratitude, I became invisible—overlooked by my own husband and even by my son. Like a ghost living in my own home.

After all, no wolf meant no defense, so no voice. 

I was the Luna, but I had zero power. It was worse than being a slave; a slave at least knew their place. My place was the one they constantly reminded me I didn't deserve.

I managed to peel off my muddy clothes and wrapped myself in a towel, the chill still clinging to my skin. 

I needed to see Rhys. 

I’m sick of all these.

I found them in the main living area. The scene in front of the massive stone fireplace was sickeningly domestic.

Seraphina was sitting on the sofa, holding Jaxon in her lap like he was her own flesh and blood. Jaxon had his arms tightly around her neck.

Rhys was sitting next to her, gently bouncing Seraphina's little boy, the one with the giggling face from the car, on his knee.

They looked like the perfect family portrait, framed by firelight, and I was the smudge on the lens.

Instinct took over. The protective, desperate mother in me surged forward. "Jaxon," I said, my voice hoarse. "Come to Mom, sweetheart. I need to check you for fever."

My son looked at me over Seraphina's shoulder, his eyes wide and panicked. He didn't move. He just buried his face deeper into Seraphina's clean, expensive sweater, clutching her like she was the only anchor in a storm.

"He's fine, Elara," Seraphina chirped, that sweet, brittle voice grating on my nerves. She rubbed Jaxon's back soothingly. "He's just settled. He doesn't want to leave Sera."

Sera. Always Sera.

Seraphina kissed Jaxon's head and stood up, handing the boy back to Rhys. "I think it's time for a little boy to get some rest." She led Jaxon and her son toward the stairs.

Rhys watched them go, his powerful jaw relaxed, a soft, indulgent look in his eyes, a look I had never received. Then he turned his attention to me, and the tenderness vanished, replaced by the familiar cold steel.

"Sera and the boys will be staying here tonight," he stated, not asked. "She needs rest after the journey she's been through."

The journey she's been through? What about the journey I just took, half-dead and muddy on the road?

Rhys gestured to the guest wing. "Go and prepare the Alpha suite for her. Make sure the sheets are fresh, and run her a hot bath. It should be perfect."

My jaw dropped. He was ordering me to cater to his paramour.

"I will not," I whispered, the defiance bubbling up, hot and dangerous.

Seraphina, who was still within earshot, turned back with a dramatically worried look. "Oh, no, Elara, you shouldn't trouble yourself! I can absolutely manage, "

Rhys cut her off with a look. He shifted his cold gaze back to me. "You will. Seraphina has been kind enough to occupy Jaxon and keep him happy and calm. You should be grateful for her service."

Grateful. My own son prefers her to me, and I'm supposed to thank the woman who stole him. 

I tried to stand my ground, but I felt my resolve crack. I was too tired to fight the Alpha's command right now. I stalked toward the suite, rage silently screaming in my ears.

As I was turning on the taps in the massive tub, Rhys appeared in the doorway, blocking my exit.

Seraphina coughed delicately from the hallway.

Rhys didn't even look away from me. "Elara. Seraphina just coughed. Go and fetch her a hot water and lemon. Make sure the lemon is fresh. She's been through enough trauma, and I don't want her throat bothering her."

I looked at the water cascading into the tub, the perfect hot bath, and then back at his face. 

His "sharp instincts"were supposedly unmatched, yet he deliberately ignored the fact that I had just fallen, ignored the mud smeared all over me, ignored everything. He didn’t even ask what had happened. It was as if seeing me filthy and pathetic was completely normal—exactly what he expected of someone like me.

Or maybe… maybe he did notice something was wrong.

He just didn’t think I was worth his attention.

All he wants, just an order to fetch a beverage for the woman he adored.

That was it. 

I was nothing. Or less than nothing.

I turned off the tap. The sound of the running water died, leaving a dead silence.

I faced him, my body still shivering, but my voice was eerily steady. 

"You know, Rhys," I said, looking him straight in his dismissive eyes. "You clearly don't need a Luna. You need a maid, and a babysitter for your mistress's child."

He frowned, impatient. "What the hell are you talking about?"

I gestured vaguely at the room, "The Mate bond. It's what keeps us together. Not love, just the Goddess's decree."

I took a shaky breath, the cold seeping out of my soul and replaced with a sudden, beautiful clarity.

"I want out, Rhys. I'm giving you back your freedom. I demand the breaking of the bond."