
My Alpha Ordered Me to Die for His Mistress
Chapter 3
The infirmary doors burst open with a violence that made my heart monitor spike.
"This is insane!" Yasmin's voice was shrill, desperate. "I didn't do anything! She's framing me!"
I pushed myself up against the pillows, ignoring the sharp protest in my ribs. Two Lycan Enforcers dragged Yasmin into the room, her wrists bound in silver cuffs that made her skin smoke. She looked smaller somehow, her carefully maintained appearance already crumbling at the edges.
"Beta Lawrence identified the embezzlement pattern," Silas said, his voice cutting through her protests like a blade. He held up a tablet, then a small communication device sealed in an evidence bag. "We found this in your quarters. Encrypted messages to known Rogue mercenaries. You weren't just stealing from the pack—you were selling information."
Yasmin's face went white. Her eyes found mine, and for a moment, I saw pure hatred there. Then she lunged forward, only to be yanked back by the Enforcers.
"She planted it!" Yasmin screamed. "She's always hated me! She's jealous because Cameron chose me over—"
"The digital trail spans eighteen months," Silas interrupted coldly. "Unless Beta Lawrence can time travel, your accusation is impossible."
The door opened again. Cameron strode in, his Alpha aura pressing against the room. But this time, he didn't look at me. His eyes locked on Yasmin with something close to panic.
"This is a misunderstanding," he said quickly. "Yasmin wouldn't—"
"The evidence is irrefutable, Alpha Bradley." Silas's tone held a warning. "The Lycan Council has called an emergency tribunal. It convenes in one hour."
Cameron's jaw clenched. For the first time since I'd woken, uncertainty flickered across his face. Not regret for what he'd done to me. Fear for what this would do to his reputation.
"Take her to holding," Silas ordered.
As the Enforcers dragged Yasmin away, her screams echoed down the corridor. Cameron stood frozen, his hands clenched at his sides.
"This doesn't change anything," he said finally, still not looking at me. "The pack comes first."
He left without another word.
My wolf stirred weakly, whispering something I couldn't quite hear. But I felt it in my bones—this wasn't over.
---
The Pack Hall had been transformed into a tribunal chamber. Rows of chairs faced a raised platform where three Lycan Council representatives sat in judgment. The center seat remained empty—reserved for the Lycan King himself, though he rarely attended pack hearings.
I walked in flanked by two Enforcers, my legs still shaky but my spine straight. Every eye in the room turned to me. Pack members I'd trained, protected, bled beside. Their expressions ranged from shock to pity to carefully blank neutrality.
Cameron stood at the front, his father Vincent beside him. The current Alpha looked older somehow, his face carved with lines of stress. Yasmin sat in a silver-barred cage, her hands trembling.
The lead Council representative—a stern woman with ice-blue eyes—stood. "This tribunal will address the charges of embezzlement, attempted murder, and treason against Yasmin Foster. All evidence will be—"
"A moment." Cameron's voice cut across hers. He turned, finally looking at me. "Beta Lawrence. I know we've had our... disagreements. But for the good of the pack, I'm asking you to speak on Yasmin's behalf. Show mercy. This scandal could destroy everything we've built."
The audacity stole my breath. He wanted me to save the woman who'd tried to murder me. To protect his reputation.
He moved toward me, his hand reaching for my arm. "Nora, please. Think of the pack. Think of—"
His fingers closed around my wrist, squeezing hard enough to bruise.
Something inside me snapped.
I shoved him. Hard. The mate bond flared with agony, but I welcomed the pain. Let it fuel me.
Cameron stumbled back, shock widening his eyes. The Pack Hall went silent.
"You want me to think of the pack?" My voice came out steady, cold. "I've thought of nothing but this pack my entire life. I trained your warriors. I balanced your books. I stood beside you through every challenge. And when I was dying on the floor, you called me hysterical."
The Council representative's gaze sharpened with interest.
Cameron's face flushed. "Nora, don't do this—"
"I, Nora Lawrence, Beta of Silver Moon," I said, my voice ringing through the hall, "reject you, Cameron Bradley, as my mate."
The bond between us screamed. I felt it tearing, ripping through my chest like claws. Cameron's face went white.
"Your bond is poison," I continued, forcing the words through the agony, "and I purge it from my soul."
The magical backlash hit like a shockwave. Cameron dropped to his knees, gasping. I felt the bond sever completely—a clean, brutal cut that left me hollow and free.
I stood tall, trembling but unbroken, while my former mate knelt before me.
The pain was excruciating. But I didn't make a sound.
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