After I Died,My Alpha Father Went Crazy

I was the lowest Omega in the pack, yet bound by the Moon Goddess as the fated mate to our supreme Alpha, Silas.

But he despised me, giving all his love and protection to a Beta named Selene and her sister Chloe.

When a Rogue broke into my cramped dorm room and pressed a burning silver blade to my neck, I used our Mind-Link to beg Silas for help.

Instead of saving me, he thought I was faking it to get his attention.

"Go ahead and die. It would be a favor to this pack," he snapped, before brutally severing our mate bond.

The Rogue slit my throat. I became a ghost, tethered to my own corpse.

Hours later, Silas stood right outside my door. But he deliberately shut off his wolf's sense of smell to avoid my stench, completely missing the thick metallic scent of my blood.

He walked away to buy a diamond necklace for Chloe.

I floated there, watching my blood pool on the cold concrete. For years, I had endured their bullying and his coldness, just hoping for a single crumb of his affection.

We were fated mates, yet he let me be butchered without a second thought.

Now that I am truly dead, I watch as the truth finally comes to light.

I watch the great Alpha lose his mind, destroy the women he once favored, and jump off a cliff just to find me.

But as my soul fades into the wind, I feel absolutely nothing.

Chapter 1

Mia POV

The television in my cramped room was the only source of light.

I sat on the edge of my broken bed, the mattress springs digging into my thighs. The damp air of the Omega dorms made me shiver.

On the flickering screen, the annual charity gala was being broadcast from a hall that seemed a world away, its cavernous space filled with men whose suits were tailored to their bones and women draped in gowns that glittered like constellations. But my eyes were fixed on only one man.

Silas.

As the helmsman of the city's largest business empire and the supreme leader of the Blood Moon pack, Silas was accustomed to filling out custom-tailored suits with his broad shoulders, exuding an unquestionable sense of oppression under the flashing lights. Yet fate, with its particular brand of cruelty, had insisted on binding me, this lowest of beings, to his indomitable soul.

I watched him smile at the cameras. His dark hair was perfectly styled. His broad shoulders commanded respect.

Suddenly, the wooden door of my room exploded inward.

A cannonade of sound ripped through the quiet, and splinters of cheap pine rained across the gloom. A massive figure lunged at me before I could even draw breath to scream.

A heavy hand clamped around my throat, lifting my feet off the floor. I was slammed against the cold concrete wall.

I gasped for air, my legs kicking uselessly as my eyes adjusted to the dark.

It was a Rogue.

He was a werewolf without a pack. His clothes were torn. His eyes burned with a sickening, unnatural red, like coals fanned in a diseased forge. He carried the stench of rotting meat, soured earth, and an anger so uncontrolled it felt like a physical heat.

"Not a single peep, little Omega," the Rogue growled.

He pressed a cold, heavy blade against my cheek.

My skin immediately began to hiss and smoke. The scent of burning flesh filled the small room.

It was silver.

Silver was the only metal that could burn a werewolf. It poisoned our blood and stopped us from healing.

A tremor began deep in my jaw as the nerves in my cheek screamed, a pain not of a simple cut, but of being eaten alive by a thousand venomous ants.

"Use your Mind-Link," the Rogue ordered, pressing the silver deeper into my skin. "Contact your billionaire Alpha. Tell him I want ten million dollars, or I'm painting these walls with your insides."

The Mind-Link was a telepathic network. It allowed pack members to speak to each other in their minds.

I was terrified. My body was trembling uncontrollably.

I closed my eyes and reached inward, fumbling for the shimmering cord of light that bound my soul to Silas—the mate bond, that supposed sacred covenant of the Moon Goddess.

Silas... please... help me, I cried out through the link.

On the television screen, I saw Silas stop walking. He was standing next to Selene and her sister Chloe.

He frowned. He looked annoyed.

He stepped away from the bright lights and walked into the shadows of the banquet hall.

What do you want, Mia? His voice came through the link not as sound, but as a violation—a rusted steel needle sliding into my mind, probing for the last nerve of hope so it could be severed.

A Rogue... he broke into my room, I sobbed in my mind. The silver blade moved down to my neck. He has a silver knife. He wants money. Silas, please, he is going to kill me.

Enough, Silas snapped through the link.

His voice carried the crushing weight of the Alpha. It was a power that forced my inner wolf to cower in fear.

I am tired of your lies, Mia, Silas said. You are just like your mother. Always using cheap witch tricks to get my attention.

No! I am telling the truth! It burns! I begged.

Then let it burn, Silas replied. Go ahead and die. It would be a favor to this pack.

A brutal, invisible pressure slammed against my consciousness. With the full force of his will, Silas tore at the link between us, and the shimmering cord in my mind did not just go dark—it frayed, it snapped, it dissolved into nothing.

The Rogue stared at me. He had heard the silence. He knew no one was coming.

"Your Alpha is a cold bastard," the Rogue spat. "He cut my medical funds. My pup died because of him. And now, you will die too."

He raised the silver dagger.

I tried to scream, but the blade drew a searing line across my throat before any sound could form. The pain was not a flash of light, but a sudden, profound emptiness, a void where my life had been. Then came the astonishing warmth of my own blood as it poured down my chest.

I fell to the floor. My vision blurred. The sound of my own heartbeat slowed down.

Thump.

Thump.

Nothing.

Then, a strange detachment began. I tried to brace a hand against the floor to push myself up, but my fingers passed through the grimy concrete as if it were smoke. Gravity lost its claim on me. My perspective drifted uncontrollably upward, my body suddenly weightless as a puff of ash, until the back of my head brushed against the cold, peeling plaster of the ceiling.

Below me, the Rogue was climbing out the shattered window frame into the night.

And on the floor, a small, broken thing in a congealing pool of blackish-red, was my own lifeless body.

I was dead.

*I stared down at the wide, vacant eyes of the girl I had been. Somewhere deep in the darkness of the pack lands, the mate bond was still humming—a severed cord leaking static into the void. I could feel him out there, still alive, still breathing. He had no idea what he had done. But he would. Sooner or later, he would. *