The Alpha Brothers' Shared Mate

Three days after our eight-month-old son died, I dragged my shattered soul to my husband's office, desperately seeking comfort.

Instead, I found my Alpha husband, Brice, half-naked on his leather couch, with my stepsister Heather sitting intimately on his lap.

The heavy, sickening scent of their freshly mated bond filled the room. When I stood there, paralyzed by betrayal, Brice didn't show a single ounce of guilt. He coldly told me that our sacred mate bond was a mistake from day one, and that Heather was the Luna he truly needed.

What broke me completely wasn't just the cheating. When I asked him about our dead baby, he sneered.

"I never wanted that pup. His birth was a goddamn accident, and his death is on your hands!"

My entire universe exploded. The man I loved, the Alpha whose empire was built entirely on my family's legacy, didn't care that our child was in the ground. He was using my darkest, most agonizing grief as a weapon to destroy me, while my stepsister watched with a triumphant smile.

The freezing numbness in my veins boiled into pure rage. I swung my hand and slapped the Alpha straight across his face.

As he lunged forward, wrapping his massive hands around my throat with murderous intent, I didn't beg for mercy.

I looked straight into his soulless eyes and spoke the ultimate taboo.

"I, Florence George, reject you, Brice Rosales, as my mate."