Collection- My Pretty-Boy Mate Gave My Wedding Gown To His Mistress Novel by Magfic _ Novel





The phone rang. It was Alexis.
 
No apology. No explanation. Just accusations right out of the gate.
 
“Eloise, you know Cecilia’s an influencer. Why would you post something like that? Are you trying to ruin her image? Delete the comment. Now.”
 
Behind his voice, I could hear soft, calculated sobs—Cecilia’s.

Collection- My Pretty-Boy Mate Gave My Wedding Gown To His Mistress Chapter 01

The phone rang. It was Alexis.

No apology. No explanation. Just accusations right out of the gate.

“Eloise, you know Cecilia’s an influencer. Why would you post something like that? Are you trying to ruin her image? Delete the comment. Now.”

Behind his voice, I could hear soft, calculated sobs—Cecilia’s.

“Alexis, this is all my fault,” she whimpered. “I’ll take off the dress right now and apologize to Eloise. I didn’t mean to hurt her. Please, just ask her to forgive me.”

And just like that, Alexis dropped his fury and slipped into his soft, comforting tone.

“No need, baby,” he murmured. “If you like it, then wear it. It’s just a wedding dress.

Why should you apologize? Eloise is the one who should be saying sorry.”

I actually laughed—bitter, sharp, and humorless.

“Just a wedding dress,” he said.

That gown took over a year to create. Cost more than a million. But the price tag didn’t matter—not to me. It had been blessed under the moon by our Pack Seer, woven from moonlight silk, stitched with threads infused with lunar essence to symbolize eternal union. It wasn’t just a dress—it was my future. My dream.

I had poured myself into every step—designed it from scratch, selected every bead and fabric swatch, even flew to Paris for a month to work personally with the pack-favored couturier. Watching that gown come to life had felt like watching my future with Alexis bloom before me.

When the bridal boutique finally called to say it was ready, I couldn’t wait to show it to him. I asked Alexis to come see it with me, imagined the look on his face when I stepped out of the fitting room.

But he’d said he couldn’t make it—something about an important Alpha council meeting, pack business that couldn’t wait.

I believed him. Goddess help me, I believed him.

And then Cecilia posted the photos.

Nine high-resolution images, lit like a dream. Her in my gown. My Alexis beside her, all smiles and affection. Hand-holding. Intimate embraces. A forehead kiss that felt. And on her left hand—a diamond ring that looked disturbingly familiar.

They looked like a fairytale couple. A perfect Luna and Alpha pair.

The caption was sweet poison:

“Forever grateful to Alexis, who’s been by my side since childhood. Thank you for helping me live out my dream of becoming a bride!”

The comments poured in like wildfire:

“They’re a match made by the Moon Goddess!”

“Cecilia finally found her Alpha!”

“That dress is stunning—must’ve cost a fortune!”

“Childhood sweethearts? I’m crying. This is the kind of love I want.”

“That ring is massive! Total Luna vibes!”

I scrolled through the names of those congratulating them—many were Alexis’s inner circle. Wolves I had once called family.

But I didn’t smile. Couldn’t.

Because that dress was mine.

And the man in those pictures? He was my fated mate. My chosen Alpha. My fiancé.

It all hit me like a silver blade to the chest—Alexis hadn’t been too busy for me that day.

He just had different priorities. He had time to dress another woman in my sacred
Luna gown and parade her around the internet like she was his one and only.

Did they seriously think I wouldn’t find out?

Within the hour, the post exploded—tens of thousands of comments, thousands of shares. A public celebration of betrayal, and I was the only one mourning.

I called Alexis. Again and again. No answer.

Called Cecilia. Nothing.

But both of them had plenty of time to respond to fans with little heart emojis and thanks-for-the-love messages.

And in that moment, I finally saw it for what it was.

Alexis never truly loved me.

He never saw me as his Luna. Just a placeholder. A convenient arrangement. A name on a guest list.

I’d wasted years thinking we were building a future. Turns out, he was already living his—with someone else.

So I did the only thing I could.

Underneath their shining, viral love story, I left one comment—calm, cold, and final:

“Since Cecilia likes my wedding dress and my fiancé so much, she can have them.”

Within minutes, Alexis—who’d ignored me for a full hour—suddenly decided I was worth calling back.

He ranted. Tried to twist the narrative. Tried to make me the villain.

I listened. I laughed.

Because it was pathetic, really—how someone could be so bold in betrayal yet so desperate to hide the fallout.

Shameless doesn’t even begin to cover it.

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