My Alpha Ordered Me to Die for His Mistress

The crystal chandeliers cast golden light across the banquet hall, making everything look warm and perfect. Too perfect. I smoothed down my emerald gown for the third time, forcing my shoulders to relax as I watched Cameron fumble through another diplomatic pleasantry with Alpha Elena Blackwood.

"What the Silver Moon Pack offers," he said, his voice too loud, too eager, "is unmatched in this region."

Alpha Blackwood's eyebrow arched slightly. I recognized that look—I'd seen it on a dozen other Alphas when Cameron oversold and under-delivered. My wolf stirred restlessly in my mind, whispering that something felt wrong tonight.

I stepped forward smoothly, letting my Beta authority fill the space. "What Alpha Bradley means is that our strategic position and resources complement your pack's strengths perfectly. Together, we'd control the eastern trade routes without conflict."

Elena's expression softened. "Now that makes sense, Beta Lawrence."

Cameron shot me a look—gratitude mixed with resentment. I'd seen that expression more and more lately. Behind him, Yasmin glided between tables with a wine carafe, her head bowed in perfect Omega submission. But I caught the flash of something sharp in her eyes when she looked at me.

"A toast," Cameron announced, raising his goblet. "To new alliances."

Yasmin appeared at my elbow, pouring wine into my glass with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "For you, Beta Lawrence," she murmured, her voice honey-sweet. "Only the finest vintage."

The wine shimmered ruby-red in the candlelight. I lifted the goblet, matching Cameron's gesture. The treaty was vital—months of negotiation hung on this moment. I couldn't afford to second-guess anything now.

The wine touched my lips. Slid down my throat.

And then the world exploded into fire.

My throat closed instantly, like an invisible hand had wrapped around my windpipe and squeezed. The goblet slipped from my fingers, shattering on the marble floor. Red wine spread like blood across the white stone.

No. Not wine. Wolfsbane. Concentrated Wolfsbane.

My veins burned with liquid fire, racing from my stomach through my entire body. I clawed at my clutch with trembling fingers, my vision already darkening at the edges. The emergency antidote—I always carried it, always prepared for this exact scenario.

I found the vial. Uncorked it with shaking hands. Drank.

Water. Plain, tasteless water.

Horror crashed through me as I collapsed, my knees hitting the floor hard. Someone had switched it. Someone had planned this.

*Cameron!* I screamed through the mind-link, our mate bond flaring with my desperation. *Mate, help me! Poison! Wolfsbane!*

My body convulsed, muscles seizing as the poison attacked my wolf. I needed to shift—shifting would help me heal, help me survive. But my wolf whimpered in pain, unable to break through the Wolfsbane's grip.

Through blurring vision, I saw Cameron still seated. Still. Seated. Yasmin leaned close to his ear, whispering something. His expression hardened.

He stood slowly, deliberately. Walked toward me with measured steps while I writhed on the floor, gasping for air that wouldn't come.

"Really, Nora?" His voice was cold, disgusted. "This is what you've resorted to? Faking a medical emergency to steal attention from the treaty?"

I tried to speak, but only a strangled sound emerged. My fingers scraped against the marble, searching for anything, anyone who would help.

"She's clearly staging this," Yasmin's voice drifted over me, soft and concerned. "She's been jealous of your authority all night, Alpha. Everyone saw how she kept interrupting you."

No. No, that wasn't—I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. The fire in my veins intensified, and I felt my wolf clawing frantically inside me, trying to surface, trying to save us.

Cameron's boots stopped inches from my face. I looked up at him—my fated mate, my future Alpha, the man I'd dedicated my life to serving. His eyes were ice.

"Stand down, Beta Lawrence!" The Alpha Tone crashed over me like a physical blow, forcing my wolf into submission. "Cease this display immediately!"

The command was absolute. My wolf, already weakened by poison, couldn't fight it. She collapsed inside me, whimpering, leaving me completely vulnerable. Without her, I couldn't heal. Without her, I would die.

I heard the pack warriors shifting behind me, their footsteps retreating rather than approaching. They feared Cameron's wrath more than they valued my life. The Beta who had trained them, fought beside them, bled for them—and they were walking away.

Alpha Blackwood's voice cut through the haze: "Bradley, something's wrong. That's not—"

"The Beta is dismissed from this gathering," Cameron interrupted, his tone final. "She will report to my office tomorrow to explain this embarrassing behavior."

Tomorrow. He thought I'd survive until tomorrow.

My vision darkened further. My lungs burned. The last thing I saw before the blackness took me was Yasmin's face, hovering above mine with a smile of pure triumph.

And then I heard it—a door slamming open. Heavy footsteps. A voice I didn't recognize, sharp with authority: "Wolfsbane. I smell Wolfsbane."

Someone grabbed my jaw, forcing my mouth open. Liquid—bitter, burning, but different from the poison—poured down my throat.

The darkness pulled me under, but somewhere in the distance, I heard my wolf whisper: *Survive. We must survive.*