After My Alpha Rejected Me for My Mother’s Killer

The morning light filtered through the curtains as I balanced the tray of tea and toast, my fingers tracing over the delicate china pattern my mother had chosen decades ago. Every morning for the past week, I'd brought her breakfast personally—a small gesture of love for the woman who had given me everything.

"Mom, I've brought your favorite Earl Grey," I called, pushing open the door to her chambers with my hip.

The room fell silent. Too silent.

"Mom?" My voice wavered as I set the tray down on the small table near her bed.

Jolene Matthews lay motionless on her bed, her silver-streaked hair fanned across the pillow, her eyes closed forever. My mother—the former Luna, the backbone of our pack—was gone.

"No!" The word tore from my throat as I rushed to her side, my hands shaking as they hovered over her still form. "Mom, please..."

My wolf, Aria, howled in anguish inside me. *Something's wrong. This isn't natural.*

That's when I caught it—a scent so vile it made my stomach turn. Metallic and herbal, pungent and sharp. Wolfsbane. Lethal to our kind in its pure form.

"There's no way this was natural," I whispered, my fingers gently closing my mother's eyes. "Someone did this."

Aria snarled within me. *Andie. It's her scent underneath.*

I inhaled deeply, and there it was—the unmistakable scent of our Omega nanny layered beneath the wolfsbane. Sweet, cloying, and now tainted with the smell of murder.

Rage flooded through me as I stormed through the pack house, following Andie's scent trail. I found her in the nursery, humming softly as she folded my son's clothes.

"Andie," I growled, grabbing her arm and dragging her from the room.

"E-Excuse me, Luna?" Her eyes widened in practiced innocence, but I could see the calculation behind them.

"Don't play dumb." My voice shook with fury as I hauled her down the hallway toward Dexter's office. "I know what you did."

Dexter looked up from his desk as I burst through the door, Andie in tow. His brow furrowed at the sight of my tear-stained face.

"Sierra, what's going on?"

"My mother is dead," I spat, shoving Andie forward. "And this Omega murdered her with wolfsbane. I can smell it on her!"

Andie's face crumpled into a mask of hurt. "How could you accuse me of such a thing? I loved Jolene like my own mother!"

Dexter rose from his chair, his eyes darkening. "Sierra, control yourself."

"Control myself?" I stared at him in disbelief. "She's been murdered!"

"Enough!" Dexter roared, his Alpha aura crashing down on me like a physical weight.

My knees buckled as the force of his dominance pressed me down. Aria fought against it, but we were powerless against an Alpha's command.

"I said enough," he repeated, his voice lower but no less menacing. He turned to Marcus Reed, our Pack Healer, who had entered during the commotion. "Marcus, examine Jolene and tell me what happened."

Marcus's eyes darted between us, his medical bag clutched tightly in his hands. I could smell his fear—of what, I wasn't sure.

"Alpha," he began cautiously.

"Tell me," Dexter commanded.

Marcus swallowed hard. "It appears to be... a heart attack. Natural causes."

"That's impossible!" I cried out, fighting against the pressure of Dexter's aura. "The wolfsbane—"

"Silence!" Dexter's eyes flashed dangerously. "Marcus, prepare the body for cremation. Immediately."

"Dexter, please," I begged, reaching for him with trembling hands.

He stepped back, avoiding my touch. "This matter is closed."

---

Hours later, I stood before the Pack Council, my heart pounding as Dexter called the emergency meeting to order.

"Regarding the passing of former Luna Jolene Matthews," he announced solemnly. "The Pack Healer has confirmed it was a natural heart attack."

Murmurs rippled through the gathered wolves. I opened my mouth to protest, but Dexter's warning glare silenced me.

"However," he continued, "my mate seems to believe otherwise."

All eyes turned to me, standing alone in my grief and suspicion.

"Sierra," Dexter said, his voice deceptively gentle, "perhaps you'd like to share your... concerns?"

Before I could speak, a small figure stepped forward from the crowd. My son—my beautiful, innocent Zyaire.

"I saw Grandma yesterday," he said, his young voice steady and clear. "She was showing me the herbs she'd been collecting."

The room fell silent as he continued, his eyes fixed on some point beyond me.

"She said they were for a special tea. She showed me how to grind them up."

"That's not true!" I gasped, reaching for him. "Zyaire, what are you saying?"

He stepped back from my outstretched hand, his eyes cold and distant. "I saw Grandma make the tea herself. She said it would help her sleep."

The betrayal cut deeper than any knife. My own son—my flesh and blood—standing before the pack and lying about his grandmother's death.

As the council members nodded solemnly, accepting his testimony, I realized with sickening clarity that I was completely alone.