After My Mate Killed Our Pup, I Wanted Blood

The morning light filtered through the heavy curtains of Dante's private study as I moved methodically around the room, dust cloth in hand. Five years of this routine had made me an expert in navigating the space without disturbing anything. My back ached from bending over his wheelchair earlier, helping him into bed after another night of "painful spasms" that only I could soothe.

"You're doing wonderfully, Willa," my inner wolf, Luna, whispered weakly. Once vibrant and strong, she now barely had the energy to form coherent sentences in my mind.

"Just a few more hours," I murmured, more to myself than to her. "Then we can rest."

I reached for a heavy tome on the bookshelf, intending to dust behind it. My fingers had barely touched the leather binding when the entire bookshelf panel gave way with a groan that seemed to echo through my bones.

"No, no, no," I gasped, lunging forward to catch it.

The panel swung outward, revealing a sleek metal safe embedded in the wall. My heart stuttered in my chest.

"What is this?" Luna growled, suddenly alert.

I glanced nervously at the door. Dante was supposedly resting in his bedroom after I'd given him his morning medication. With trembling fingers, I tried the combination—his birthday, of course. The safe clicked open.

Inside lay a burner phone, its screen glowing softly in the dim light. I hesitated only a moment before pressing the play button on the most recent video.

The screen flickered to life, and my world collapsed.

There was Dante—my supposedly paralyzed mate—shifting fluidly into his massive black wolf form. His muscles rippled as he stretched, then took off running through the forest behind our pack house. The timestamp showed yesterday evening, when he'd told me he was too tired to join the pack run.

Another video showed him sparring with Beta Marcus, his movements agile and powerful. Nothing like the helpless man who needed me to bathe him, dress him, feed him.

"Oh goddess," I whispered as Luna let out a whimper that tore through my chest.

Then I caught it—the scent. Dante's heavy musk mixed with something floral and cloying. Penny's perfume.

My fingers tightened around the phone as I followed the scent trail with increasing urgency. It led down the hallway, past the main training rooms, and toward the soundproofed basement level where the elite warriors sometimes trained privately.

The scent grew stronger as I descended the stairs, my heart pounding so loudly I was certain someone would hear it. Luna stirred restlessly within me, her distress mirroring my own.

"Something's wrong," she insisted. "Very wrong."

I reached the bottom of the stairs and followed the scent to a door I rarely had reason to enter. The underground training room was reserved for Alpha business—business I'd been excluded from for years.

The door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open slowly, my breath caught in my throat.

The wheelchair Dante had supposedly been confined to for five years sat abandoned by the entrance. And in the center of the training mat...

My mate—my supposedly paralyzed mate—stood in his magnificent wolf form, his powerful body covering Penny's naked one as they mated in the center of the room. Her head was thrown back in ecstasy, her fingers digging into his fur.

The phone clattered to the floor as I stepped inside.

Dante's head snapped up, his amber eyes locking with mine. There was no shame in them. No apology. Only irritation at being interrupted.

Penny shrieked and scrambled away, grabbing a towel to cover herself. "Willa! What are you doing here?"

I couldn't speak. Couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

Dante shifted back to human form with fluid grace, his body perfect and whole—no trace of the paralysis that had supposedly kept him confined for years. His Alpha aura pulsed outward, crushing and oppressive.

"You're early today," he said coldly. Then his lips curved into a cruel smile. "Though I suppose it's convenient timing."

He stalked toward me, each step deliberate and predatory. When he reached me, he grabbed my chin roughly.

"Did you really think I would mate with a weak, late-blooming wolf like you?" he sneered. "The only thing valuable about you is your pack's territory."

His Alpha tone slammed into me like a physical blow, forcing me to my knees. "You were never anything but a means to an end, Willa. The Silverfang wealth and warriors are mine now."

He reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a folder. "Dr. Thornfield has been kind enough to document your... instability. Your wolf is feral, according to these reports."

I stared at the forged documents bearing the pack healer's signature. "You can't do this."

"I can and I will," Dante said, his Alpha tone making resistance impossible. "Tonight, you'll be locked in the silver-lined dungeons where your feral wolf can't hurt anyone."

Penny crept closer, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "It's for the best, Willa. You're not well."

As Dante's grip tightened on my chin, I realized with sickening clarity that they had planned this all along. And I had walked right into their trap.