
After My Mate Tried Killing Me
Chapter 1
The fire came at dawn.
I woke to the smell of smoke and the crackle of flames eating through the dry brush around my shelter. The Northern Wastes had been brutal for five years, but I'd survived. I'd learned to hunt small game, to filter water from muddy streams, to patch my clothes with scraps of bark and hide. I'd carved a life out of nothing because I believed Duncan needed me to.
Now that life was burning.
I grabbed my worn pack and stumbled outside. Heat slammed into me like a wall. Orange flames roared through the dead trees, turning the gray morning sky black. My wolf stirred weakly inside me, too drained to shift. The Devotion Mark over my heart throbbed, a jagged scar that pulsed with every beat. I'd carved it into my own flesh after a hundred-mile trek to the Moon Shrine, channeling my life-force to heal Duncan. For five years, it had been my anchor. My proof that love could survive anything.
I ran.
Branches tore at my arms. Smoke filled my lungs. I tripped over roots and fell hard, scraping my palms raw. Behind me, the fire roared louder, closer. I forced myself up and kept moving. My legs shook. My vision blurred. But I didn't stop.
By the time I reached the edge of the Wastes, the sun was high and merciless. I collapsed on the rocky ground, gasping, my clothes scorched and filthy. Blood seeped through the thin fabric over my chest where the Devotion Mark sat. I pressed my hand against it and felt the familiar ache—the bond I'd poured everything into.
Duncan had to be awake by now. He had to be.
I forced myself to stand. Silverfang territory was two days' walk south. I had no food, no water, no strength left. But I started walking anyway.
---
I reached the Silverfang pack house at dusk on the second day.
I expected silence. Grief. Maybe a few guards standing watch over their comatose Alpha. Instead, every window glowed with warm light. Laughter spilled out into the evening air, loud and carefree. The scent of roasted meat and fresh bread made my stomach twist with hunger.
I stood at the edge of the clearing, staring. Something was wrong.
I circled around to the side entrance, the one the staff used. The door was unlocked. I slipped inside, my bare feet silent on the polished wood floor. The great room was just ahead, filled with voices and the clink of glasses. I pressed myself against the wall and edged closer, hiding behind a wide stone pillar.
Then I saw him.
Duncan sat at the head of the long dining table, his back straight, his face healthy and glowing in the firelight. He wore a dark shirt that fit him perfectly. His hair was clean and styled. He looked strong. Rested. Alive.
And Kylie was draped against his shoulder.
My half-sister. The illegitimate daughter my father had always favored. She laughed at something Duncan said, her hand resting on his chest. Around her neck hung my Luna pendant—the silver crescent moon Duncan had given me the night we were mated. On her throat, just below her jaw, I saw the mark. His mark.
My wolf released a sound inside my head—a howl so sharp and broken it felt like my skull was splitting open.
"Honestly," Duncan said, his voice easy and amused, "I can't believe she actually did it. Carved herself up at that shrine like a lunatic."
Kylie giggled. "I know, right? All that dramatic devotion. And for what?"
Marcus, Duncan's Beta, shook his head. "The dormancy act was genius, Alpha. Five years of peace. No obligations. No drama."
Duncan raised his glass. "To clever solutions."
They all laughed.
I couldn't breathe. My chest felt like it was caving in. The Devotion Mark burned, a searing, impossible pain that shot through every nerve. My wolf howled again, louder, and I pressed my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming.
Five years. Five years of exile. Of starvation. Of carving my own flesh to save him. And it was all a lie.
I looked down at the scar over my heart. The jagged lines I'd carved with a sacred blade. The life-force I'd poured into the bond, believing it would reach him. Believing he needed me.
Something inside me snapped.
I dug my nails into the scar and tore. The pain was blinding, white-hot, but I didn't stop. I clawed at the Mark, ripping through skin and tissue, muffling my screams against my arm. Blood poured down my chest, hot and thick. The bond shattered like glass, a violent rupture that sent shockwaves through my entire body.
I collapsed against the pillar, gasping, my vision going dark at the edges. Blood pooled at my feet, dripping onto the stone floor.
No one noticed.
I forced myself to move. One step. Then another. I staggered toward the side door, leaving a smear of blood on the pillar as I passed. Outside, the cool night air hit my face. I kept walking, my legs barely holding me up.
I didn't know where I was going. I just knew I couldn't stay.
---
Three days later, pack members spotted me near the border.
I was sitting under a tree, too weak to move. My chest was wrapped in torn fabric, the wound still bleeding. I hadn't eaten. Hadn't slept. My wolf was silent, broken.
Word reached Duncan fast.
Within hours, he arrived with Marcus and a small group of warriors. He stood over me, his face carefully arranged into shock and concern. "Alivia," he said, his voice thick with false emotion. "You're alive. Thank the Moon Goddess."
I stared at him. I didn't speak.
He crouched down, reaching for my hand. I pulled away.
"You've been through so much," he continued. "But I'm awake now. My wolf finally came back. And it was you, Alivia. Your return brought me back."
Lies. Every word.
But the pack members were watching. Whispering. Duncan's eyes flicked to them, then back to me. He couldn't let me wander the border like a rogue. It would raise too many questions.
"Come home," he said. "We'll take care of you."
I wanted to refuse. I wanted to spit in his face. But I had nowhere else to go.
So I let them carry me back to the pack house. Not to the Luna's suite. Not to the rooms I'd once decorated with care. They put me in a bare guest room on the lowest floor, far from everyone else.
Kylie stayed in the master suite.
And Duncan's mark stayed on her neck.
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