Cerita Pendek Plot Twists Werewolf & Novel Mistress

A week before our marking ceremony, I told Ethan Stormwind I wanted to break up at his friend's party. Everyone laughed. They all knew that for the past six years, my life's goal had been to become his marked Luna. With only a week left until the ceremony, how could I possibly want to break up? Even Ethan thought I was being unreasonable. "Just because I need to take Selene to the healer for her follow-up on our ceremony day, you're throwing a tantrum about breaking up?" "We're both adults. Can you act more mature? You could just reschedule the ceremony. Why do you insist on that specific day? I don't have time for your jealous games." I nodded silently. Yes, something needed to be changed. But it wasn't the ceremony date. It was him. I was going to accept someone else's mark instead.

On the day of the bridal shoot, Nathaniel White's childhood friend, Yvonne Woods, turned up out of nowhere with an armful of flowers and threw herself into his arms, laughing. The photographer couldn't look away and turned the camera toward them again. I stood off to the side in my wedding dress with no idea what to do. The shutter clicked 99 times. Not once was the camera pointed at me. Watching how comfortable they were with each other in front of the camera left a bitter ache in my chest. Nathaniel and Yvonne, the girl he'd grown up with, were both very good-looking. Whenever they stood side by side, every photographer aimed straight at them. The day he asked me out and I said yes, a friend offered to take our picture. Instead, she aimed the camera at him and Yvonne. She even said they looked perfect together. On a Valentine's Day date, every street photographer we passed offered to photograph the two of them for free and asked me to step aside so I wouldn't ruin the shot. I'd spent most of a year preparing for these bridal photos: losing weight, taking care of my skin, and choosing the perfect makeup look. None of it could compete with one sweet smile from Yvonne. "You, the wolf on the grass! Move! You're in the shot," the photographer shouted at me impatiently. I froze. Instinctively, I looked at Nathaniel, hoping he'd speak up for me. Instead, he looked away and reached over to pluck a fallen leaf from Yvonne's hair. His usually cold eyes were full of tenderness. Something went out of me. I walked off without a word. I was giving the whole frame back to them. And the rest of my life, too.

On our second anniversary, my boyfriend Blake messaged to say he had lost me to one of his friends in a racing game. Right after that, the video of me collapsing at last year's shifting trial went into his group chat. In it, I lay curled on the ground without so much as a strand of wolf fur appearing. The chat erupted. "That counts as a werewolf? She's a rabbit in a wolf skin." "Whoever won her is out of luck. Imagine having to mate with a broken wolf." Someone opened a book on it soon enough. The wager was how long it would take for me to be discarded. My boyfriend was the first to bet that I would be discarded within a month. "Eric values strength above everything. He has said that only a strong Gamma warrior deserves to be his mate. "Still, a bet is a bet. Eric can make it through one month until the forfeit is over." Serena, who had grown up alongside Blake, tagged me in the group and did not bother hiding the mockery. "Liora, you won't last a week before he's sick of you, will you?" Reading it, I smiled. Nobody knew that after that collapse, my wolf had begun to evolve. And nobody knew that a month ago my father, the Alpha, had issued a decree naming me the pack's next Alpha. I typed a message into the group. "Blake, count me in on this bet."

A pack of Rogues holds my mother, Celia Hale, hostage and clutches an iron chest like it's treasure. Lillian Parker, my mate's first love, points at the chest through her tears. "That chest… It's all I have left of my mother." However, the boulder above my mother's head is already loose, and it could crush her at any moment. I desperately beg my mate and the Alpha of the Silvermoon pack, Ares Hamilton. "Save my mom first! Please!" He just glances at me with a frown. "Celia's a strong she-wolf. She'll be fine. Margaret is already gone. That chest matters more." With that, he gestures for most of the fighters to move toward the chest. Only two young werewolves, barely steady on their feet, reluctantly step toward Celia. I stare at him in disbelief. In the end, they recover the chest, but my mother is dead.

My fated mate, Dexter, became the Alpha King when his brother died. He inherited the crown, the power… and his brother’s widowed mate, Jenica. All because I, a half-breed, had failed for years to give him a pureblood heir. He told me he had to mark Jenica, and the pain nearly shattered me. But he held me close, kissed my tears, and swore that his wolf, his fate, had chosen only me. That I would always be his one and only Luna. I believed him. And yet, he still spent every night in her bed. Then, Jenica became pregnant. While the pack celebrated, Dexter forced me from the Luna’s suite, all so her pup could be born into the pack’s purest lunar aura. As I felt our bond unravel thread by painful thread, I sent a final, coded message to a friend in the human world. “In four days, get me out.” That night, I made a choice. My time as his mate was over.

After bearing my fated mate's pup, I sank into severe postpartum depression. By day, as Luna of the Blood Moon Pack, I had to hold myself together. By night, I let despair drown me. Time and time again, I picked up the silver dagger, ready to end it all. It was Alpha Raymond Kirk who held me, who told me over and over: "It's all right, Aurora. No matter what you become, our pup and I will always be here." For five whole years, I held it back. I didn't want to be a burden to anyone. Then one day, the pup cut his finger and let out a cry. I broke. I cut my wrist again. Raymond finally snapped. He shoved a fistful of calming herbs into my mouth. "How long are you going to keep this up? Are you trying to drive me and our pup insane?" "If you don't want to live, why don't you just die?" I swallowed in silence. And just like that, a thought came to me. Every night, Raymond murmured a girl's name in his sleep. She could replace me. She could be the mother our pup deserved. As for me—I should return to the Moon Goddess.

My mate, Alpha Lucius, was kissing me when I heard it slip through his mind-link. “My sweet little pup. Daddy’s moving you and Mommy into the new villa tomorrow. I built it just for you.” That’s when I knew. The villa he’d spent a fortune of my pack’s money on… was a love nest. For his bastard and his whore, Clara. He didn't even notice I'd gone cold, too busy bragging about his re-election as Alliance Chairman. He’d been Chairman for four years. Everyone thought his re-election was a sure thing. But the fool forgot. He was only the most powerful Alpha because of me. He was only Chairman because of me. Because of my Silver Moon Pack. Because of my bloodline. I shoved him away. I sent an urgent mind-link to my father. "Lucius has betrayed the Silver Moon bloodline. He and that omega bitch… they’re going to die."

There's this unspoken rule in werewolf high society: no matter how tight the mate bond is, business banquets mean booking a hostess. Six years into our bond, my Alpha mate—Brian Stormclaw—met one. Louise. A scrappy Omega with too much pride and not enough sense. When he offered her his black card, she pushed it back and said, "I'm not some Alpha's pampered pet." Brian? Instantly hooked. Like the Moon Goddess herself had dropped her in his lap. He chased her like he wanted her mark on every pack crest. But he forgot something—I was the Luna he wrote ninety-nine love letters to before I said yes. I didn't beg. Didn't snap. Every time he chose her over me, I lit another letter. First one burned on our anniversary—he bailed to wait outside Louise's flower shop, just to walk her home. Letter thirty-four? He left me stranded in a dangerous hunting ground to keep her company. Said she was scared of the dark. Fifty-two? Torched the second he replaced our wedding photo with some sketch she made on. ... And when the ninety-ninth turned to ash, so did whatever was left of us. I walked away. For good.