After My Alpha Framed Me for Attacking His Luna

I paced my small room like a caged animal, my mind racing with escape plans that kept crumbling under the weight of reality. The door was locked from the outside, and even if I could pick it, where would I go? Andy was still out there, suffering because of me.

A soft click made me freeze. The door swung open silently, revealing Saige's perfect silhouette against the hallway light.

"Comfortable?" she asked, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she stepped inside. "I thought we should have a little chat."

I backed away, my wolf snarling a warning. "What do you want?"

Saige's eyes glittered as she pulled something from behind her back—a silver dagger that caught the dim light. "Insurance," she said, running her finger along the blade. "You're becoming quite the inconvenience."

My heart hammered against my ribs. "Rhett will never believe you over me."

Her laugh was cold and brittle. "Oh, Mackenzie. You still think you matter to him." She moved closer, her expensive perfume suffocating me. "Let me show you how little you mean."

In one fluid motion, she dragged the blade across her own forearm. Blood welled up, bright red against her pale skin.

"What are you doing?" I gasped, frozen in horror.

"Setting the stage," she whispered, then screamed—a piercing, theatrical sound that echoed through the pack house.

The door burst open. Guards flooded in, their eyes widening at the sight of Saige bleeding on the floor.

"She attacked me!" Saige sobbed, clutching her wounded arm. "She said she'd kill me and the baby!"

"I didn't touch her!" I protested, but the guards were already grabbing me, twisting my arms behind my back.

"Take her to the holding cells," one ordered. "The Alpha will want to deal with this personally."

---

The tribunal was held in the great hall, torches casting long shadows across the stone floor. Pack members filled the space, their faces blurred by my tears. I stood in the center, bound by silver chains that burned against my skin.

Elder Marcus Sullivan presided, his ancient face carved with disgust. "Mackenzie Miller, you stand accused of attempting to murder our future Luna and the unborn heir to Silver Lake Pack."

"I didn't do it," I said, my voice barely audible.

"Lies!" Saige cried from her seat of honor, her arm now bandaged dramatically. "I caught her lurking outside my room earlier. She threatened me!"

Rhett sat stone-faced beside her, his amber eyes unreadable. But I could see the conflict in him—his wolf eyes flashing gold beneath the surface, his jaw clenched tight.

"Evidence?" he finally asked, his voice rough.

"The knife," Saige said promptly. "It has her scent all over it."

A guard produced the silver dagger—the one she'd used to cut herself. Of course my scent would be on it; she'd made sure of that.

"The penalty for such a crime is death," Elder Marcus announced, satisfaction curling his thin lips. "I move for immediate execution."

A murmur ran through the crowd. I closed my eyes, waiting for Rhett's final word.

"Mackenzie Miller," Rhett's voice cut through the noise, "you have been found guilty of attempted murder."

My knees buckled.

"But," he continued, his wolf howling visibly beneath his skin, "I commute your sentence."

Relief and confusion warred within me.

"You will undergo The Hunt," he declared. "You will be given a one-hour head start in the northern woods. If you survive until sunrise without being caught by my warriors, you will be exiled. If you are caught..." He didn't need to finish.

Elder Marcus looked furious, but Rhett's Alpha tone brooked no argument.

---

They threw me into the holding cell beneath the pack house—a damp, cold space that smelled of mold and despair. Hours passed as I huddled in the corner, trying to prepare for what was coming.

The door creaked open. Saige stood there, illuminated by the single bulb hanging from the ceiling.

"Enjoying your last moments of pack protection?" she asked, stepping inside. "Once you're out there, no one will save you."

"Why are you doing this?" I whispered. "What did I ever do to you?"

She smiled, all teeth and no warmth. "You exist. That's enough."

From her pocket, she pulled out a tablet and tapped the screen. "I thought you might want to see your brother before you die."

The screen flickered to life, showing a live video feed. My breath caught in my throat.

Andy sat hunched in a silver-lined cell, his skin gray and mottled. Chains bound his wrists and ankles. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths.

"No," I whimpered, reaching for the screen.

"He's dying," Saige said conversationally. "The dampness is accelerating the fading of his wolf. By tomorrow, he'll be nothing but an empty shell."

Tears streamed down my face as I watched my brother's labored breathing.

"Once The Hunt is over," she whispered, leaning close to my ear, "I'll kill him myself. A mercy, really."

Something broke inside me then—something fundamental and irreparable. The fear and desperation that had defined me for so long crystallized into something else entirely.

Cold. Calculating. Murderous rage.

I looked up at Saige through my tears, and she actually stepped back, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her perfect features.

"What are you?" she whispered.

I smiled then, a smile that held no warmth, no hope—only promise.

"Your worst nightmare," I said softly.