My Healer Mate Chose His Ex, So I Returned to My Alpha

One month before the Pack’s annual Hunt Festival, an intern from the Healing Center sent me a photo.

In the dimly lit treatment room, my fated mate, Alexander, who was also the Pack's lead healer, was pinning a female warrior against the table. His hands were gripped tightly around her waist. They were staring into each other's eyes, their bodies pressed flush together.

I sent the photo straight to Alexander.

Late that night, he came home smelling of therapeutic essential oils. He gave me a lazy, practiced explanation.

"Evelyn, you know this is just part of my job."