Rejected by My Alpha, Poisoned for His Mistress

I spent three days in the cabin going through files I'd kept for years without knowing why. Alliance treaties with the northern packs. Border defense rotations. Territorial agreements that made Ironvale one of the strongest packs on the Eastern Seaboard. Every document bore Victor's signature at the bottom. Every strategy, every clause, every negotiation point came from my hand.

I'd saved encrypted copies out of something like pride. A quiet record that I'd built something real. Now they were evidence.

I organized them chronologically. Cross-referenced them with pack records. Drafted the formal poisoning complaint for the Lycan Council representative who'd be at the Summit. Elena's toxicology report was already certified under Council medical protocols. Everything was airtight.

My wolf stirred more each day. The wolfsbane was clearing from my system slowly. She wasn't strong yet. But she was there. Awake. Angry.

Then the invitation arrived.

The Ironvale Pack's annual Harvest Moon Banquet. Formal. Required attendance for all ranked wolves. Including the Luna.

I stared at the embossed card. Victor's doing, obviously. He wanted the senior pack members to see me deteriorate in person. Testimony for the Council hearing. Evidence that I was unfit.

I texted Iris. *Banquet tonight. I'm going.*

Her reply came fast. *Are you sure?*

*Yes.*

*Be careful.*

I drove to the pack house at sunset. Parked in the back lot where I used to park every day for ten years. The great hall glowed with candlelight through the windows. Wolves in formal clothes moved inside like shadows.

I wore a simple black dress. No jewelry except the mark on my neck that I'd stopped touching weeks ago. I walked through the side entrance and into the hall.

Conversations died as I entered. Heads turned. The Delta wolves near the door stepped aside without meeting my eyes. I walked to my seat at the head table—the Luna's chair, still technically mine—and sat down.

Victor was already there. He looked at me with perfectly performed concern. "Nora. I'm glad you felt well enough to come."

"Of course," I said. My voice was steady. Pleasant. "It's tradition."

Oliver sat on Victor's other side. He didn't look at me. Just stared at his plate.

Jemma wasn't at the head table. She sat three tables back with the senior pack members, wearing a dress that looked expensive. Her eyes found mine across the room. She smiled.

I smiled back.

The servers brought food. Roasted meat, vegetables, bread still warm from the oven. The smells were rich and overwhelming. I'd brought a small container of food I'd prepared myself—plain rice, grilled chicken, nothing that could be tampered with. I ate slowly from my own dish while the rest of the table ate from the communal platters.

Victor noticed. "Not hungry?"

"Just being cautious," I said lightly. "My stomach's been sensitive."

He nodded. Concerned Alpha. Devoted mate. The performance was flawless.

I made it through the first course. The second. Sipped water from a bottle I'd brought sealed. My wolf was quiet but present. I felt her there, a warmth in my chest.

Then halfway through the third course, something shifted.

My vision blurred at the edges. The candlelight smeared into halos. I blinked hard, trying to clear it, but the blur spread.

My hands felt distant. Not numb exactly. Just far away.

I set down my fork carefully. Reached for my water bottle. My fingers didn't quite close around it. The bottle tipped. Water spilled across the white tablecloth.

"Nora?" Victor's voice came from somewhere above me.

I tried to answer. My mouth wouldn't form the words.

Then my wolf—the presence that had been growing stronger every day—went silent.

Not dim. Not faint.

Gone.

I felt the absence like a hole torn through my chest. A void where she should have been. I gasped. Tried to reach for her. There was nothing.

The room tilted. I slid sideways in my chair. Strong hands caught me before I hit the floor.

"Get Dr. Cole!" Victor's voice cracked across the hall. "Now!"

I couldn't see clearly. Couldn't feel my wolf. Couldn't feel anything except the cold spreading through my limbs and the terrible, absolute silence where she used to be.

Someone lifted me. Carried me. Voices swirled around me but I couldn't hold onto the words.

The last thing I heard before the dark closed in was Jemma's voice, soft and satisfied: "Poor thing. She's finally breaking."

---

I woke in the pack infirmary. The lights were too bright. My head pounded. I tried to sit up but my body wouldn't cooperate.

Dr. Cole's face appeared above me. "Luna. Don't move. You collapsed. Your vitals are stabilizing but you need to rest."

I tried to speak. My voice came out cracked. "My wolf—"

"Dormant," he said. His tone was professionally grave. Perfectly false. "The stress has pushed her into protective hibernation. It happens sometimes in cases like yours."

Lies. All lies. But I couldn't fight. Couldn't argue. My body felt like it was made of lead.

He adjusted something on the IV stand beside the bed. "I'm giving you a mild sedative. You need sleep."

The drug hit my system fast. The room blurred again. I tried to resist. Tried to stay conscious.

But the dark pulled me under.

I drifted. Time lost meaning. I surfaced occasionally—voices in the corridor, footsteps, the click of a door—then sank back into nothing.

Once, I felt someone in the room. A presence that shouldn't be there. I tried to open my eyes. Couldn't. Heard the soft sound of a phone camera shutter. Again. Again.

Jemma's voice, barely a whisper: "Perfect."

Then she was gone.

I floated in the dark for hours. Or days. I couldn't tell.

But in the deepest part of that night—the hour when the world is quietest and coldest—I felt something.

A pulse.

Faint. Buried. Furious.

My wolf.

She wasn't gone. She was just... waiting.

I reached for her in the dark. Found her. Felt her rage coiled tight like a spring.

*They tried to kill us,* she said. Her voice was rough. Weak. But unmistakable.

*I know,* I told her.

*We're going to destroy them.*

*Yes,* I said. *We are.*

She purred. Low and dangerous. The sound of a predator that had been caged too long.

I surfaced slowly. Opened my eyes. The infirmary was empty. Dawn light filtered through the window.

I pulled the IV from my arm. Sat up. My body protested but obeyed.

I stood. Walked to the door. Opened it.

No one stopped me.

I walked through the pack house in my hospital gown and bare feet. Past the great hall. Past the kitchen where I'd heard them laughing. Out the side door into the cold morning air.

I drove back to the cabin. Cooper was waiting on the porch. He pressed against my legs, whining softly.

"I'm okay," I told him. My voice was steady now. "We're okay."

Inside, I pulled out my phone. Sent Iris the pre-arranged signal. Three words.

*Summit. No delays.*

Her reply came instantly.

*Confirmed.*

I set the phone down. Looked at Cooper.

"Three weeks," I said.

He tilted his head.

I smiled. My wolf purred again inside me. Stronger now. Awake.

"Three weeks," I repeated. "And then we end this."