The Alpha's Lost Heir: A Rejected Luna's Revenge
I took a poisoned dagger for my husband, Alpha Jackson, destroying my womb and my health to save his life. I thought my sacrifice made our bond unbreakable.
But three years later, when I miraculously fell pregnant, he didn't celebrate. Instead, he brought me a box of "expensive supplements" to help my condition.
I opened a vial and smelled the acrid, metallic scent of Wolfsbane. He wasn't trying to heal me; he was ensuring I—and the baby he didn't know about—would never wake up.
At the pack ceremony, he publicly humiliated me, pinning the Luna's brooch on his pregnant mistress, Candida. When I protested, he slapped me across the face in front of the entire pack, calling me a useless, barren burden.
He wanted me dead so he could replace me. So, I gave him exactly what he wanted. With the help of a trusted healer, I staged my own death and vanished into the night.
Years later, when I returned as the powerful White Wolf and the cherished mate of the Lycan King, Jackson fell to his knees in front of the world, weeping and begging for me to come home.
I looked down at the man who destroyed me and smiled cold.
"Get up, Jackson. You're embarrassing yourself."
"I'm not your wife anymore; I'm the woman who survived you."
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Chapter 7
Mara POV
The cave was a jagged wound cut deep within the craggy cliffs of the northern border.
It was only a temporary shelter, a hollowed-out void where we could wait for Hamilton's transport.
I had laid Elena on a bed of moss. She looked like a marble statue carved by a grieving artist.
Her skin was ice cold. The Ghost Root suspended life, but the residual silver poison in her system was still fighting a war inside her veins.
I began to clean the "death" scent from her, wiping her brow with a cloth soaked in moon water.
"Going somewhere, Mara?"
My heart stopped.
I spun around.
Jackson stood at the mouth of the cave. The moonlight cast long, jagged shadows across his face, distorting his features into something monstrous.
He wasn't alone. Two warrior wolves flanked him, their eyes gleaming in the darkness.
"I told you to bury her," Jackson said, stepping inside. The air grew heavy with his Alpha aura. It tasted like ozone and rotting pine, choking the oxygen out of the small space.
"Why are you hiding her here?"
"I am preparing her for the pyre," I lied, standing between him and Elena, shielding her with my own trembling body. "It is the old way. A final cleansing."
"You're lying," Jackson sneered. "You stole her jewelry. The Pack assets. Hand them over."
"She has nothing!" I shouted, my voice cracking.
"You took everything from her! Her dignity, her title, her life! Let her rest!"
"She is my property," Jackson growled, his eyes drifting to the body behind me. "Dead or alive."
He moved to push past me.
"Stop!" I commanded, though I knew I had no authority over him.
Jackson laughed. It was a cruel, barking sound.
He backhanded me.
The force of it sent me flying into the stone wall. My head cracked against the rock, and granite bit into my spine as stars exploded in my vision.
"Pathetic," he spat. "You were always Elena's lapdog."
He walked over to Elena's body. He looked down at her, his expression unreadable. For a second, I thought I saw a flicker of regret.
But then he reached down and grabbed her wrist, lifting it roughly.
"Cold," he muttered. "Good."
Elena didn't move. She couldn't. But in the silence of the cave, I felt a shift. The air pressure dropped so sharply my ears popped.
Get away from her.
A voice echoed. Not in the room, but inside my head.
It was faint, but it vibrated with primal authority.
Jackson frowned. He dropped Elena's hand. It hit the stone with a sickening thud.
He spotted something on the ground near her head. A dagger.
It was the one Elena had kept for protection, the blade stained black with the silver residue she had been testing to build immunity.
"Suicide," Jackson said, picking it up. "She poisoned herself with silver. Coward."
He slipped the dagger into his belt. "Burn her, Mara. If she isn't ash by dawn, I will hunt you down."
He turned and left, the warriors trailing behind him.
I crawled over to Elena, wiping blood from my split lip.
"He's gone," I whispered, my hands shaking. "You're safe."
But she wasn't.
Her breathing had stopped completely. The Ghost Root was interacting with the silver in her blood. Her heart was failing for real.
"No, no, no," I panicked, placing my hands on her chest. I channeled every ounce of healing magic I had.
Her skin was turning gray.
Suddenly, her chest heaved violently. A gasp of air rattled through her throat like a tearing canvas.
Her eyes flew open.
They weren't her usual warm hazel eyes.
They were white. Pure, glowing, incandescent white.
A low growl emanated from her throat, sounding like a beast three times her size. The vibration shook the very floor of the cave.
The ancient bloodline. The White Wolf. It was fighting the death potion.
"Elena?" I whispered, terrified.
The white faded, replaced by the dull glaze of unconsciousness. Her eyes rolled back.
She was alive. But barely.
We had to move. Now.