My Cheating Mate

The first time I saw him, I knew. My wolf howled and cried to be near him. He was everything I could ever dream of. His eyes were the color of the ocean on a summer day. He was white but tanned, a striking contrast to me, a little black girl. His name was Luke Mason.

I stopped in my tracks and stared. He stared back. Suddenly, I was pulled into a janitor's closet. It was Luke. He pushed me against the wall. "Yes. Let him claim us," my wolf growled. "No," I protested, "it was too early." But then, his lips were on mine. It was soft, romantic, despite the setting. He was perfect. And mine.

Time passed. Five years of marriage. He took over as Alpha of his pack two years ago. Lately, he'd been distant. I hadn't been feeling well, throwing up. The news from the doctor made my heart soar: I was pregnant. I couldn't wait to tell Luke.

But when I got home, his coat was there. And someone else's. Feminine. A horrible suspicion crawled into my heart. Tears welled. He wouldn't, would he? My wolf cried, 'He wouldn't.' I walked up the stairs, my heart pounding, already hearing the moans. The door to our bedroom was closed. I pushed it open. A cry of pain escaped me.