My Alpha Tried to Kill Me for His Mistress

The surveillance feed loaded at 11:47 PM.

I sat in Roland's command center, Mya asleep two floors above, and watched my mate walk another woman into our bedroom.

The security system Roland had installed years ago was invisible—woven into the pack house's existing infrastructure so seamlessly that even Jackson's paranoid sweeps never detected it. My father had insisted on it when I first moved to Silverfang. "Just in case," he'd said. I'd thought he was being overprotective.

Now I understood he'd been preparing me for exactly this.

The video quality was sharp enough to see Jackson's expression as he pulled Elisa against him. Sharp enough to catch the way his hand slid up her spine. Sharp enough to watch him kiss her in the doorway of the room where we'd conceived Mya.

The mate mark on my neck burned.

I felt his emotions through the bond—satisfaction, desire, relief. The relief was the worst part. He was relaxed with her in a way he'd never been with me. Like he'd finally stopped performing.

"Princess," Roland said quietly from behind me. "You don't have to watch this."

"Yes," I said. "I do."

Because this wasn't about torture. It was about evidence.

I hit record.

---

For three nights, I documented everything.

Jackson and Elisa in the Alpha suite, whispering plans between kisses. Georgina joining them on the second night, spreading territorial maps across the desk while Elisa sat on Jackson's lap. They discussed the anniversary run like it was a military operation. Routes. Timing. The exact location where I would "encounter rogues."

"The wolfsbane needs to be in her system before the attack," Georgina said, tapping the map. "That way the autopsy shows rogue toxins, not our compound."

Jackson nodded. "I'll add it to her water bottle during the pre-run ceremony. She always drinks before shifting."

Elisa laughed—a bright, careless sound. "And then I become Luna. Finally."

"Not just Luna," Georgina corrected. "You'll be the mother of the next Alpha. The heir with true Silverfang blood."

I saved the file. Added it to the archive. Pressed two fingers to my neck and breathed through the burning.

Roland watched the footage with me on the third night. His jaw tightened when Georgina detailed the autopsy cover-up. When Jackson kissed Elisa and promised her the Luna ceremony within the month, Roland looked away.

"How are you doing this?" he asked quietly.

"Because if I stop watching," I said, "I'll forget how much they deserve what's coming."

---

The invitation arrived on the fourth day.

It was formal. Cream-colored cardstock with gold lettering, delivered by courier to Roland's facility. Someone had tracked me here—probably Georgina's intelligence network—but the location didn't matter anymore. I'd already gotten what I needed.

*The Silverfang Pack cordially invites Luna Amanda to the Grand Pack Banquet celebrating eight years of Alpha Jackson's leadership and the continued strength of our territorial bonds.*

I read it twice. Showed it to Roland.

"It's the public rejection," he said immediately. "They're staging it as a formal event."

"I know." I pulled up the surveillance archive and found the conversation from two nights ago. Jackson and Georgina in his study, discussing logistics.

"Three hundred witnesses," Jackson had said. "Allied pack leaders, Council observers, our entire pack. I'll reject her in front of everyone, then mark Elisa immediately. Clean transition."

Georgina had smiled. "And two days later, the anniversary run. By the time anyone questions the timing, she'll be dead and you'll be grieving your rejected mate's tragic accident."

"Elegant," Jackson had said.

I closed the file and looked at Roland. "Contact Cassian Dray. Tell him the banquet is the trigger point. I want Lycan warriors positioned outside the venue. The moment Jackson's canines touch Elisa's neck, they move."

Roland nodded slowly. "You're going to attend."

"Of course I'm attending." I picked up the invitation. "I'm bringing a delegation."

---

I composed my response that night.

Short. Gracious. The perfect Luna's acceptance.

*Thank you for the kind invitation. I will attend with a small delegation, as befits a Luna's formal appearance at such an important pack event. I look forward to celebrating Silverfang's continued strength.*

I included no details about the delegation. No names. No numbers.

Georgina's response came within an hour.

*How lovely. We've reserved the Luna's table for you and your guests.*

I could feel her contempt through the formal language. She thought I was scrambling to preserve dignity. Bringing witnesses to my own humiliation because I was too proud to face it alone.

She had no idea the witnesses I was bringing answered to the Lycan Council.

I forwarded both messages to Cassian with a single line: *Confirmation of venue and timing. Proceed as planned.*

His response was immediate: *Warriors are ready. We'll be in position two hours before the ceremony.*

I sat back in my chair. The surveillance feed showed Jackson in his study, reviewing notes for his rejection speech. He looked calm. Confident. A man who'd planned every detail and anticipated every variable.

Except one.

He'd never considered that the quiet Luna he'd underestimated for eight years had been a princess all along.

I pulled up the final surveillance file—Jackson and Elisa in bed, his arm around her shoulders, whispering promises about their future.

"Just two more weeks," he said. "Then everything changes."

I saved the file. Added it to the archive.

Pressed two fingers to the mate mark that still burned on my neck.

"Yes," I whispered to the empty room. "Everything changes."

But not the way you think.