After My Alpha Poisoned Me, I Found the Lycan King

The morning sun glinted off the ice-covered lake, casting diamond-like reflections that mocked my dark reality. Dorian's hands gripped the handles of my wheelchair, pushing me across the frozen ground with deliberate slowness.

"Fresh air will do you good before tonight's procedure," he announced to no one in particular, though several pack members nodded in agreement.

I stared at the gathering crowd—my packmates, people I'd grown up with, danced for, served loyally for eight years. Their eyes slid past me with practiced avoidance. Some looked at me with pity. Others with thinly veiled disgust.

"The cripple's out of hiding," someone whispered, not quite quietly enough.

"I heard she hasn't been able to shift since the attack," another replied.

I kept my face carefully blank, though each word cut deeper than any silver blade. My hands gripped the armrests of the wheelchair, knuckles white with tension.

"Look who's decided to join us!" A sweet voice rang out, dripping with false warmth.

Lexi Hughes glided toward us, her perfect figure wrapped in a crimson coat that matched her lips. She moved with the fluid grace of a she-wolf who'd never known weakness—everything I'd once been.

"Lila, darling," she cooed, kneeling beside my wheelchair. "How wonderful to see you out and about. We've all missed you terribly."

I forced a smile. "Thank you, Lexi."

She placed a manicured hand on my arm, her touch burning like acid. "The pack is so excited about tonight's ceremony preparations. Dorian's been working so hard to make everything perfect."

"Yes," I said, my voice hollow. "He's been... very dedicated."

Something flashed in her eyes—triumph, perhaps—before she leaned closer. "I've been practicing your dance routines. Dorian says I have a natural talent for it."

Before I could respond, she straightened, her smile never wavering. "Oh! Let me help you get a better view of the lake. It's beautiful today."

With that, she placed her hands on my wheelchair and gave a sharp push.

Time slowed as I felt the chair tilt backward. The world spun in a dizzying arc of sky and ice. I heard gasps from the crowd, felt the rush of cold air, and then—

Impact.

The freezing water engulfed me instantly. My body went into shock, muscles seizing as the cold penetrated my clothes, my skin, my bones.

"Dorian!" I screamed, though it came out as a gurgled choke.

I thrashed wildly, but my legs remained useless beneath me. The water dragged me down, my heavy winter clothes turning into anchors. I surfaced once, gasping for air, only to sink again.

"Help!" I cried out, looking desperately toward the shore.

Dorian stood motionless at the edge of the lake, arms crossed over his chest. His face was a mask of cold indifference as he watched me drown.

No one moved to help. No one dared.

Then I understood—he was using his Alpha aura, commanding them all to stay back.

"Please," I begged, my voice barely audible as water filled my mouth.

A figure dove into the water—not Dorian, but someone else, their face obscured by spray and ice. Strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me toward shore.

When we reached the bank, Dorian was suddenly there, taking over, lifting me from the water with a show of concern that made my stomach turn.

"Look what happened," he said loudly to the gathering crowd. "She fell in. Someone should have been watching her more carefully."

He cradled me in his arms, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, "A Luna cannot be weak, Lila. Remember that."

By nightfall, I lay shivering in my hospital bed, my body burning with fever from the lake incident. The isolation ward was quiet except for the occasional squeak of medical equipment.

In the next room, I could hear Marcus preparing something—the final syringe, no doubt. The 99th treatment that would end my life.

"I'm sorry, Lila," he murmured through the wall. "I have my orders."

Orders. Always orders.

I closed my eyes, blocking out the dim light of the room. My time had run out. If I stayed, I would die tonight.

"Shadow," I called internally, reaching for that faint presence in my mind. "Please. I need you now more than ever."

A faint stirring, like the flutter of moth wings against my consciousness.

"I know you're there," I whispered. "I know you're still fighting."

I took a deep breath and centered myself, focusing on the core of heat that remained deep within me—the spark that silver and wolfsbane couldn't quite extinguish.

"Help me," I begged. "One last time."

Something shifted inside me—a primal response to my desperation. Shadow surged forward with a desperate energy I hadn't felt in months.

Bone cracked. Muscle tore. Pain exploded through my body as I forced a partial shift—not a full transformation, but enough to temporarily bypass the paralysis in my legs.

I screamed silently as my spine elongated, my nails extending into claws that dug into the hospital sheets.

The door opened. Marcus entered with the syringe.

"What are you doing?" he gasped, dropping the needle as he saw my contorted form.

I looked up at him through eyes that had shifted to amber, my voice a guttural growl as I pushed myself off the bed.

"Escaping."