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My Alpha Believed His Mistress and Tried to Kill Me Novel Cover

My Alpha Believed His Mistress and Tried to Kill Me

I wake to the sound of nothing. The silence in the Blood Moon pack house is a living thing, pressing against my skin like a physical weight. Five years of this suffocating quiet have taught me to move like a ghost through my own home, my bare feet finding the path across the cold hardwood floor without making a sound. I glance at the clock—6:30 AM. Nicolas will be downstairs in the training room by now. My stomach tightens at the thought of him, my mate, the man I saved and the man who now lives in terror of the sound of my voice. In the bathroom, I perform my morning ritual in complete silence. No humming, no water running unnecessarily, no clinking of bottles. My hands move through the motions with practiced precision, applying the special scent-neutralizing lotion Simone insists will keep my natural fragrance from triggering Nicolas's episodes. The irony isn't lost on me—I'm suppressing every part of myself to keep him sane.
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Chapter 3

I stayed frozen in the shadows of the hallway, my breath shallow and terrified. Through the crack in the door, the scene unfolded like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from. Nicolas was still smiling at Simone, a look of ease on his face that I hadn't seen directed at me in a decade.

Simone moved around the desk, her hips swaying with deliberate slowness. She picked up a steaming mug from a small warmer. The scent wafted out into the hallway—a heavy, cloying smell of lavender and something darker, bitter like burnt sugar. It was the same tea she made him drink every night before bed. She claimed it was for his nerves, to keep the wolf dormant.

"Here, Alpha," she purred, pressing the mug into his hands. Her fingers lingered on his skin, tracing the veins on the back of his hand. "Drink this. It will help you sleep."

Nicolas took a long sip, his eyes fluttering shut as if the liquid was liquid peace. "You always know what I need, Simone."

She leaned in close, her lips brushing his ear. "Only I know what you need, Nicolas. Only my voice soothes the beast. Everyone else is just noise. Especially her. Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard, isn't it? Sharp. Painful."

I watched, horrified, as Nicolas nodded slowly, his expression glassy. "Yes," he murmured, his voice slurring slightly. "Sharp. Painful."

"But I am the calm," she whispered, stroking his hair. "I am the only one who saved you."

"You saved me," he repeated robotically.

The realization hit me with the force of a physical blow. It wasn't just the tea. It was hypnosis. Conditioning. For five years, she had been poisoning him against me, wiring his brain to associate my voice with pain and hers with pleasure. My silence hadn't been protecting him; it had been aiding her. I had made myself small so she could become his world.

Rage, hot and unfamiliar, bubbled up in my chest. It burned away the fear, the grief over my lost baby, the shame of my empty womb. I backed away from the door, my hands trembling not with weakness, but with fury. I wouldn't be silent anymore.

I didn't sleep that night. I sat on the edge of my hospital bed, staring at the door, waiting for the sun to rise. When the first gray light of dawn filtered through the blinds, I stood up. My legs were weak, and the incision on my stomach pulled painfully, but I didn't care. I walked out of the hospital wing, ignoring the startled nurse at the desk, and headed straight for the Alpha's office.

The pack house was waking up. I passed omegas who scrambled out of my way, their eyes widening at the sight of their Luna walking with such grim determination. I reached the heavy oak doors of his office and didn't bother knocking. I pushed them open.

Nicolas was behind his desk, reviewing paperwork. He looked up, his brow furrowing in irritation. "Cecilia? You are supposed to be in recovery. Get back to bed."

I walked to the center of the room. My throat felt like it was filled with rusted razor blades. I hadn't spoken above a whisper in five years. My voice was a stranger to me.

"No," I said.

The word came out raspy, broken, and ugly. But it was loud.

Nicolas flinched violently, dropping his pen. His hands flew to his ears, his face twisting in a grimace of pure disgust. "Stop it!" he roared, his eyes flashing with that dangerous black light. "Don't speak! You know what it does to me!"

"It does nothing to you!" I pushed my voice harder, forcing it through the unused cords. It hurt, but the truth needed to be heard. "It's her, Nicolas. It's the tea!"

He stood up, looking at me like I was a monster. "You're hysterical. You're hurting me!"

"I'm not hurting you! She is drugging you!" I took a step forward, desperate to reach him through the fog Simone had created. "I saw you last night. You were laughing with her! You aren't broken, Nicolas. She's making you hate me!"

He slammed his fist on the desk, cracking the wood. "Enough! Your voice is poison!"

The door behind me burst open. Simone rushed in, breathless, her lab coat flying behind her. "Alpha! I heard shouting! Is everything okay?"

She took one look at me and then at Nicolas, assessing the situation instantly. She rushed to his side, placing a hand on his chest. "Breathe, Alpha. Just listen to my voice. Focus on me."

Nicolas leaned into her touch immediately, his rigid shoulders slumping. He looked at her with desperate relief. "Make it stop, Simone. She's screaming at me."

I wasn't screaming. I was barely speaking at a normal volume. But to him, conditioned by her drugs, I must have sounded like a siren.

"She's lying, Nicolas!" I croaked, pointing a shaking finger at the healer. "Tell him about the herbs! Tell him about the hypnosis!"

Simone turned to me, her face a mask of pity and professional concern. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a file, tossing it onto the desk. "Oh, Cecilia. I was hoping to spare you this."

"What is that?" Nicolas asked, his voice rough.

"I ran some tests after the... accident with the baby," Simone said smoothly, her fingers stroking Nicolas's arm to keep him calm. "The trauma of the miscarriage has triggered a severe episode of postpartum psychosis. She's paranoid, Nicolas. Delusional. She's inventing enemies to cope with her grief."

"I am not crazy!" I yelled, but my voice cracked, making me sound exactly like the unhinged woman she was painting me to be.

Nicolas looked at the file, then at me. The disgust in his eyes solidified into cold, hard judgment. He didn't see his mate. He saw a broken, dangerous thing.

"She's right," he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. "You've lost your mind, Cecilia."

"Nicolas, please," I begged, tears streaming down my face. "I'm your mate. Look at me. Remember who saved you from the fire! It wasn't her!"

"Simone saved me," he snapped, the lie fully rooted in his mind. "And she is saving me now from you."

He pressed the intercom button on his desk. "Security to my office. Immediately."

Two Gamma warriors appeared in the doorway seconds later.

"Take the Luna to the isolation ward," Nicolas ordered, not looking at me. He was looking at Simone, seeking her approval. "She is a danger to herself and the pack. Keep her there until Dr. Whitehall says otherwise."

"Nicolas, no!" I screamed as the warriors grabbed my arms. "Don't do this! She's controlling you!"

Simone watched me being dragged away, a small, triumphant smile playing on her lips that only I could see. As the doors closed, shutting me out, the last thing I saw was Nicolas burying his face in her neck, inhaling the scent of the woman who was destroying us both.

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