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After My Alpha Husband Brought His Mistress Home Novel Cover

After My Alpha Husband Brought His Mistress Home

I gasped for air, my lungs burning like I'd been drowning. My eyes snapped open to a ceiling I knew too well—cream-colored paint with that small crack near the corner that looked like a lightning bolt. The master bedroom of the Silverclaw Pack house. No. This couldn't be real. I should be dead. I should be lying in the rogue lands, my body wasted to nothing, my mind shattered by months of wolfsbane poisoning. The last thing I remembered was the dirt under my fingernails as I clawed at the frozen ground, searching for roots to eat. The taste of my own blood. The silence where my wolf should have been.
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Chapter 2

The pack archives smelled like old paper and forgotten promises.

I stood in the doorway of Grandma Stevens' private study, watching her gnarled fingers trace the edge of a leather-bound ledger. Morning light slanted through the window, catching the silver in her hair. She looked up at me with those sharp gray eyes that missed nothing.

"You're certain about these numbers, child?"

I stepped closer, keeping my voice soft. Concerned. The perfect worried Luna. "I found the discrepancies three months ago, Grandma. I didn't want to believe it, but..." I let my words trail off, biting my lip. "Isaac has been so stressed. I thought perhaps if I understood the finances better, I could help ease his burden."

A lie wrapped in truth. In my previous life, I'd discovered Isaac's embezzlement too late, after Allie had already drained half the pack's resources. This time, I had the advantage of memory.

Grandma Stevens closed the ledger with a decisive snap. "My grandson has forgotten the old ways." Her voice carried the weight of disappointment. "A true Alpha shares his burdens with his Luna. He does not hide his failures behind locked doors and pretty lies."

She stood, moving to an ancient oak cabinet. A key appeared from somewhere in her sleeve—she unlocked the cabinet and withdrew a small iron ring heavy with keys.

"The archives are yours, Vera. All of them." She pressed the ring into my palm. "Including the financial records Isaac believes are sealed."

I closed my fingers around the cold metal, feeling the first piece of my revenge click into place. "Thank you, Grandma."

"Don't thank me yet." Her gaze pierced through me. "I loved that boy since he was born. But I love this pack more. If he's betrayed his duties..." She didn't finish. She didn't have to.

I spent the next two hours in the dusty basement archives, pulling records that hadn't been touched in decades. Pack law. Ancient remedies. Punishment protocols for Alphas who violated sacred bonds.

And then I found it.

Tucked inside a crumbling journal written in Old Script: a recipe for Silver-Dust. The notation was clinical, detailing how the compound slowly calcified the neural pathways between human and wolf. Undetectable. Irreversible if administered long enough.

The same way wolfsbane had destroyed my connection to Sasha.

*He deserves this,* my wolf whispered. Her voice was stronger now, fed by my rage and growing power.

*He deserves worse,* I agreed.

I photographed the pages with my phone, then carefully returned everything to its place. No one could know I'd been here. Not yet.

That night, I waited until Isaac left for his evening patrol. The pack house settled into quiet—Allie was in her third-floor suite, probably video-calling her Beta lover. The staff had retired. I was alone.

I moved through the shadows like the rogue I'd once been, silent and invisible. Isaac's office door was locked, but I'd stolen his spare key weeks ago in my first life. Some skills transferred between timelines.

The room smelled like him. Expensive cologne and arrogance.

I found his custom protein powder in the small refrigerator behind his desk—the Alpha-enhancement blend he mixed into his post-workout shakes. He was vain about his physique, about maintaining his dominance.

Perfect.

I'd prepared the Silver-Dust in my bathroom, grinding the components with mortar and pestle like the recipe specified. The powder was fine as talc, nearly invisible when mixed.

My hands didn't shake as I unscrewed the protein container. Three measured teaspoons, stirred carefully into the chocolate-flavored powder. The recipe promised it would take weeks to build up, mimicking the slow deterioration of an overworked Alpha.

No one would suspect poison. They'd think he was burning out.

I was screwing the lid back on when I heard footsteps in the hallway.

I froze. The footsteps passed. Probably a Delta on night rounds.

I exhaled slowly, returning the container to its exact position. Wiped down every surface I'd touched. Slipped back out into the darkness.

*First dose administered,* I thought, feeling Sasha's savage satisfaction mirror my own.

The next morning, I was coming back from the pack gardens when Allie appeared in the second-floor hallway. She wore a silk robe that barely covered her thighs, her blonde hair artfully tousled. Playing the seductress even when Isaac wasn't around.

"Vera." Her voice dripped false sweetness. "We need to talk about the pack budget. Isaac says you've been asking questions."

She moved closer, and I saw it—the silver curling iron in her hand, still plugged into the hallway outlet. Still hot.

"I'm just trying to help," I said softly, backing against the wall. Playing weak.

"Are you?" Allie's smile turned vicious. "Because it seems like you're trying to undermine my position as Pack Consultant."

She stumbled forward—a calculated movement—and pressed the burning iron against my forearm.

The pain was instant, searing. Silver against werewolf skin. In my previous life, weakened by wolfsbane, this would have taken days to heal. Would have left a scar.

But I wasn't weak anymore.

I felt my Alpha blood surge, Sasha rising with feral fury. The burn healed in seconds, flesh knitting closed before Allie's shocked eyes.

I grabbed her wrist, squeezing hard enough to make her drop the iron. Then I let my aura unfurl—just a fraction of it, just enough to make her knees buckle.

"What..." Allie gasped, her face going white.

I leaned close, my voice a whisper. "You must be more careful, Allie. These old hallways are so dangerous. You could trip and hurt yourself."

I released her, watching her stumble back against the wall. Her eyes were wide, terrified. She'd felt my power. She knew.

"There's no burn," I said pleasantly, showing her my unmarked arm. "You must be seeing things. Perhaps you should rest more. Stress can cause hallucinations."

I walked away, leaving her trembling in the hallway.

*Let her wonder,* Sasha purred. *Let her fear.*

Behind me, I heard Allie's ragged breathing. The sound of her confusion. Her terror.

Good.

The predator had just shown her teeth.

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