The Alpha's Assassin Wolfless Mate

Ariel POV:

"I may never be your wife in this life, Alphonso — but I'll be your ghost in the next."

I didn't die.

For seven days my body lay empty while my soul lived an entire lifetime on Earth. Born an orphan there, I fought my way through school on scholarships and stubbornness alone, until I became the most decorated trauma surgeon of my generation. I spent the next thirty years on the worst battlefields that world had to offer — half medic, half soldier, a chip wired into my own skull so I could operate where no hospital could reach. They started calling me the Reaper's Doctor, because death backed off whenever I showed up. I grew old. I died in my sleep, satisfied, at peace.

Then I opened my eyes, and it was seven days ago again. I was young. I was dying. None of it had happened yet.

I woke up on the stone platform in the middle of the ceremony hall. Blood covered the floor under me. It was my blood.

The elders had backed away from the platform. Along the wall stood the Sun River Pack's delegation, sent here to witness the binding. Alphonso stood over me, his hand covered in my blood. He had been pressing it against the wound in my chest.

Before he could say a word, another voice cut through the hall.

"Wait." Elder Corbin, the pack's tracker, pushed through the crowd. "Something's wrong with her scent."

Nobody stopped him. He leaned down close to my chest, close to the blood on my dress, and breathed in.

His face changed.

"That's not a stranger's blood," he said, loud enough for the whole hall to hear. "That's Alpha blood. She carries your bloodline, Alphonso."

The hall broke into noise. Elders backing away. Someone from the delegation cursing. A woman screaming "Abomination" before someone shushed her.

Alphonso didn't move. He was staring at his own blood-covered hand.

I knew him. Alphonso West. The man I'd married on paper and stabbed myself in front of, seven days and one lifetime ago. He had no idea I wasn't the girl who'd loved him enough to die for him anymore. To him, this still looked like one of my old tricks.

"Are you done with this pathetic performance?" he said. The words came out slower than they should have.

The elders kept talking. "She ruined the rite in front of the delegation." "Corbin's never been wrong." "This is a disaster."

"Stabbing yourself just to force my hand," Alphonso said, louder now. "Did you think this would make me pity you? I will never accept a wolfless cripple as my Luna."

I pushed myself up. My ribs screamed. I looked at him. No fear in my face.

"You have the wrong person," I said.

"Amnesia now?" He laughed, short and angry. "You lied and schemed your way into this marriage, and now that it's inconvenient, you don't remember any of it. I am Alphonso West, Alpha of the Black Moon Pack. I don't have time for your games. Not in front of witnesses."

He grabbed my wrist. Hard. His Alpha power slammed into me.

I didn't flinch. I dug my fingers into the nerve point on his forearm. He gasped and let go.

Someone in the delegation drew a sharp breath.

Chase pushed through the crowd and gripped Alphonso's arm. "Alpha. It's already moving through the bond. The whole pack will know what Corbin said before you leave this hall."

Alphonso looked at me. The contempt was gone from his face. What was left looked like fear.

"This isn't finished," he said, but the edge was gone from his voice. He let Chase pull him toward the side door. The crowd went quiet as they passed.

Nobody looked at me on their way out.

I lay back down. A fatal wound. A husband who hated me, a hall full of witnesses who now thought I might be his blood relative, and an old man's nose that had just turned a bad wedding into a scandal big enough to burn down two packs.

Thirty years of trauma surgery, and I still couldn't catch a break on my own deathbed.