My Alpha Tried to Kill Me Before the Ceremony

Two days before my Mate Ceremony, I woke to the sound of pack members bustling outside my door. The Silver Creek Pack House hummed with activity as everyone prepared for the celebration that would make me Luna. Or so they thought.

I stretched my arms above my head, wincing as the familiar ache in my legs reminded me of my uselessness. Three years since the rogue attack, and still no healing, no wolf awakening. Just this broken body and the hollow promise of becoming Grayson's Luna.

"We need to finalize the flower arrangements," I murmured to myself, reaching for the mind-link that connected me to my betrothed.

*Grayson?* I called through our bond. *We need to discuss the ceremony details.*

Nothing. Not even the warm hum of acknowledgment I'd grown accustomed to. Just... cold silence. A wall where our connection should be.

I frowned, concentrating harder. *Grayson, are you there?*

The silence that answered me wasn't natural. It felt deliberate, like a door slammed shut in my face.

A strange tingling sensation crawled up my spine—not my own feeling, but something deeper, more primal. My wolf, buried beneath years of disappointment, was trying to tell me something.

*Danger. Lies. Find.*

The words weren't mine. They couldn't be. My wolf had been silent for so long I'd forgotten what it felt like to hear her voice, even in whispers.

I wheeled myself to the window, looking out at the pack grounds. Everyone was too busy with preparations to notice me—the crippled almost-Luna who needed help with everything.

"Fine," I muttered, gripping my wheels. "If no one will talk to me, I'll find my own answers."

As I exited my room, a scent caught my attention—sweet, sickly, with an undercurrent of deception. It wasn't a scent I recognized, but something about it made my skin crawl.

My wolf stirred again. *Follow. Truth.*

I wheeled myself through the corridors, avoiding the bustling pack members who barely glanced at me. Years of being invisible had taught me how to move unnoticed.

The scent grew stronger as I approached the Pack Infirmary. Strange. That section was supposed to be empty except for Dr. Webb's office and...

My breath caught. The Luna Suite. The private rooms reserved for the pack's most important female—me, after tomorrow's ceremony.

The scent led straight to those doors.

I hesitated, my hand on the door handle. What if Grayson was inside with Dr. Webb, discussing last-minute preparations? What if I was overreacting?

But my wolf growled, urging me forward.

I pushed the door slightly ajar.

"Grayson, you can't keep giving her small doses," a female voice said—Miley's voice. My former friend. "If she suspects anything—"

"She won't," Grayson replied, his voice tender in a way it never was with me. "She's too pathetic to question anything."

I leaned forward, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Through the crack in the door, I could see them. Grayson sat on the bed—my bed—with Miley in his arms. Her stomach protruded prominently, her hand resting protectively over it.

"Our pup will be strong," Grayson murmured, kissing her forehead. "Nothing like that defective one."

"Our pup will be the true heir," Miley agreed, her eyes gleaming with ambition. "And after tomorrow's ceremony, no one will question it when you install me as your Second Mistress."

"Dr. Webb will give her an extra heavy dose before the ceremony," Grayson said casually, as if discussing the weather. "She'll be too docile to cause any problems."

My blood turned to ice. The wolfsbane. The paralysis. My missing wolf. All of it—deliberate.

"She'll never know what hit her," Miley laughed. "The great Luna, reduced to a drooling—"

A noise escaped me—a gasp, a whimper, I wasn't sure which. But it was enough.

Grayson's head snapped toward the door, his eyes narrowing as he spotted me.

"Dakota," he growled, disentangling himself from Miley. "What are you doing here?"

I tried to back away, but my wheelchair caught on the doorframe, making a terrible squeak.

Grayson stalked toward me, his face contorting with rage. When he reached me, he grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"You weren't supposed to know," he snarled.

Then his eyes flashed gold, and the weight of his Alpha command crashed down on me.

"KNEEL."

The word hit me like a physical blow. My body seized, muscles spasming as I collapsed from the wheelchair onto the cold floor. Pain radiated through every nerve ending as his command forced submission.

"That's better," he said, kneeling beside me. "You know, I almost feel sorry for you. Almost."

His hand closed around my throat, fingers digging into my skin. "But you're nothing but a burden. A weak, pathetic excuse for a wolf."

He reached for the Luna necklace at my throat—my mother's necklace, the only thing I had left of her.

"This doesn't belong to you," he sneered, ripping it from my neck. "It belongs to a real Luna."

The door clicked shut behind him as he locked me inside.

"Dr. Webb will be here soon," he called over his shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll take good care of you until the ceremony."

Darkness enveloped me as I lay on the floor, pain wracking my body from the Alpha command.

Then, from the depths of my consciousness, my wolf spoke with perfect clarity:

*Run to the King.*