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My Alpha Tried to Steal My Daughter Novel Cover

My Alpha Tried to Steal My Daughter

The tinted glass of the limousine was cool against my forehead, a sharp contrast to the fire burning in my veins. Outside, the familiar trees of the Shadow Creek territory blurred past—oaks and pines that had once witnessed my happiest childhood memories and my darkest nightmares. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, not out of fear, but anticipation. Beside me, a large, warm hand covered my trembling one. I turned to look at Thatcher. My mate. My King. His golden eyes, usually so fierce they could bring Alphas to their knees, were soft as they studied my face. "You don't have to do this, Malia," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the car's plush interior. "I can burn this pack to the ground without you ever stepping foot on this cursed soil." I squeezed his hand, drawing strength from the bond that hummed between us—a connection far deeper, far purer than the twisted tether I had once shared with Derek.
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Chapter 4

The garden confrontation had left me trembling, not with fear, but with a cold, simmering rage. Thatcher’s arm was a heavy, reassuring weight around my waist as we walked back into the banquet hall, leaving a paralyzed Derek in the shadows. The air inside was stifling, thick with the scent of roasted meat and nervous wolves.

I needed a moment. Just a moment to compose myself before the Council session began.

"I need to check on Lilyana," I whispered to Thatcher. He nodded, his golden eyes scanning the room for threats before releasing me.

"Don't go far," he murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple. "I'll be watching."

I moved toward the side of the hall where the servants were bustling in and out of the kitchens. The clatter of plates and hushed whispers spilled out from the swinging doors. I intended to ask for a glass of water, something to wash the taste of Derek’s proximity from my mouth.

Instead, I heard a voice that made my blood run cold.

"...just a few drops, Marcus. Enough to make her wolf unstable. If she shifts in front of the Council, they'll see she's dangerous. Unfit."

I froze near the slightly ajar door, pressing myself into the shadows of a heavy velvet curtain. It was Briar. Her voice was a hiss of pure venom.

"Wolfsbane is risky, Briar," Gamma Marcus replied, his tone hesitant. "If the King smells it..."

"The King will be too busy watching his 'Queen' froth at the mouth," Briar snapped. "Do it. Put it in her wine for the toast. I want her humiliated. I want her broken before Derek even thinks about claiming that brat as his heir."

My hands curled into fists at my sides. She wasn't just trying to ruin me; she was targeting my stability, my ability to protect my daughter. Three years ago, I would have cried. I would have begged.

Now? Now I just felt a dark sense of opportunity.

I slipped away before they could spot me, circling back toward the main table. As I approached, a small, trembling hand tugged on my skirt. I looked down to see a young Omega girl, her eyes wide with terror. I recognized her instantly—Sarah. She used to help me bandage my wounds in secret when Derek’s "training" sessions got too rough.

"Luna Malia," she breathed, her voice barely audible over the din of the hall. She held a tray with two ornate goblets. "Please... the Gamma... he messed with the red one. He said it's for you."

She was shaking so hard the wine threatened to spill. I placed a steadying hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you, Sarah," I whispered, looking into her fearful eyes. "You are brave. Go now. Don't let them see you talking to me."

She scurried away, vanishing into the crowd. I took the tray from a nearby table where she had set it down. Two goblets. One for the Alpha's mate—Briar. One for the guest of honor—me. They looked identical, but I could smell the faint, acrid tang of wolfsbane beneath the heavy aroma of the vintage red in the left glass.

I walked to the head table, my movements fluid and calm. Briar was already seated, looking smug. She had changed her dress, hiding the wine stain from earlier, but she couldn't hide the malicious glint in her eyes.

"Back so soon?" she purred. "I hope the garden air cleared your head."

"It was refreshing," I said smoothly, setting the goblets down on the table. With a sleight of hand I had perfected during my time surviving in the rogue lands, I switched them. It was a movement so fast, so subtle, that unless you were looking for it, you'd miss it entirely.

I pushed the tainted goblet toward her.

"I thought we might start over," I said, offering a tight, diplomatic smile. "A toast, before the Council begins? To... clarity."

Briar looked suspicious for a second, but her arrogance won out. She believed her plan was foolproof. She believed I was still the stupid, trusting girl she had tormented years ago. She reached out and took the goblet.

"To clarity," she mocked, raising the glass.

We drank.

I took a small sip of the untainted wine, watching her over the rim of my glass. Briar drained half of hers in one go, eager to get the show on the road.

Almost immediately, her eyes widened. She coughed, a wet, hacking sound.

"Excuse me," she wheezed, clutching her throat. "It went down... wrong."

"Oh dear," I said, my voice dripping with false concern. "Are you alright? You look pale."

She tried to stand, but her legs gave way. She collapsed back into her chair, sweat beading instantly on her forehead. The wolfsbane was working fast. It wasn't a lethal dose—just enough to cause severe gastric distress and loss of motor control.

"I... I feel..." She gagged, clamping a hand over her mouth.

Just then, the heavy oak doors at the end of the hall boomed open. Elder Cornelius, the head of the Alpha Council, strode in, followed by four other stern-faced elders in grey robes. The room fell instantly silent.

"The Council is in session," Cornelius announced, his voice booming. He looked at the head table, expecting order and dignity.

Instead, he saw Briar lurch forward and vomit violently all over the table.

Gasps rippled through the room. Derek jumped back, looking at his intended Luna with horror. Briar was heaving, groaning in agony, drool and bile dripping from her chin. It was disgusting. It was humiliating. It was perfect.

"Is this the hospitality of Shadow Creek?" Elder Cornelius asked, his nose wrinkling in distaste. "Your future Luna seems... indisposed."

"She's sick!" Derek shouted, trying to salvage the situation. "Get a healer!"

"She's weak," I corrected, my voice cutting through the chaos. I stood up, smoothing my gown. "And perhaps a bit careless with what she ingests."

Two Omegas rushed forward to drag a sobbing, retching Briar away. The smell of vomit and wolfsbane hung heavy in the air. Derek looked at me, his eyes narrowing as realization dawned on him, but he couldn't prove a thing.

Thatcher returned to my side, slipping his hand into mine. He didn't ask what happened. He just squeezed my fingers, a silent message of approval.

"Alpha Derek," Elder Cornelius said, taking his seat at the center of the room. "We are here to witness your mating ceremony and review the pack's standing. You may begin your report."

Derek, flustered and sweating, stepped forward. "Yes. Yes, Elders. Shadow Creek has prospered. Our borders are secure. Our numbers are..."

"I have a correction," I interrupted.

Every head turned toward me. Interrupting an Alpha during a Council report was unheard of. But I wasn't just anyone. I was a Queen.

Derek glared at me. "This is pack business, Malia. You have no right—"

" I have every right," I said, stepping away from the table to stand in the center of the room, directly before the Elders. My voice rang out, clear and unwavering. "The Alpha's report contains a falsehood regarding the pack records. Specifically, the entry concerning the death of the former Luna."

Cornelius leaned forward, his interest piqued. "The former Luna? You speak of yourself?"

"I speak of a crime," I said, turning to face Derek. He looked like a cornered rat. "I demand the floor, Elder Cornelius. I wish to testify on charges of Crimes against the Moon Goddess."

The silence in the hall was absolute. Accusing an Alpha of crimes against the Goddess was the highest charge possible. It was a death sentence if proven true.

"Speak, Queen Malia," Cornelius said gravely. "The Council hears you."

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