I Escaped After My Alpha Poisoned Me for His Mistress

The invitation to the annual Moonlight Gala arrived on my desk, embossed with the Silverfang Pack's emblem—a wolf's head with a silver crown. I traced the raised design with my fingertip, remembering how excited I'd been about our first gala ten years ago. Back then, Cade had spent hours practicing his dance steps, determined not to embarrass me in front of the high-ranking wolves.

"How formal do I need to be?" I'd asked him, twirling in my homemade dress.

He'd pulled me close, his eyes bright with mischief. "Wear whatever makes you feel like a queen, Sofie. You're mine, and that's all that matters."

Now, as I held the invitation, those memories felt like they belonged to someone else's life.

"The car will be ready at seven," Cade announced from the doorway of my office. He didn't bother to enter, just stood there checking his phone. "Wear something... modest."

I looked up, catching his reflection in the window behind him. "Modest?"

"The special guests need to be the center of attention tonight." His eyes flicked to mine briefly. "Not you."

Special guests. I didn't need to ask who he meant.

"I understand," I said quietly, though I didn't. Not really.

After he left, I opened my desk drawer and pulled out a folded piece of paper I'd hidden there months ago. The rejection letter I'd started but couldn't finish. My fingers trembled as I read the words I'd written:

"I, Sofia Reed, reject you, Cade Foster..."

I folded it again and slipped it into my pocket. Not as a threat, but as a reminder—a talisman of courage I might need tonight.

---

The ballroom glittered with crystal chandeliers and the jewelry of high-ranking wolves. I stood near the wall, nursing a glass of champagne I hadn't touched, watching Cade work the room. He was magnificent in his tailored suit, his Alpha aura commanding attention wherever he went.

"Sofia." Estella's voice cut through my thoughts. She approached with two goblets of deep red wine, her silver gown matching Cade's tie perfectly. "I brought you something."

She held out one of the goblets. "A peace offering. The elders are watching."

I smelled it before I saw it—the metallic tang of wolfsbane floating on the surface of the wine. My wolf stirred uneasily inside me.

"What is this really?" I asked quietly.

"Just wine." Estella's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Unless you're afraid?"

Before I could respond, Cade appeared at my side, his hand heavy on my shoulder. "Drink with Estella," he growled low in my ear. "Do not embarrass me in front of her father."

I looked up at him, searching for any sign of concern. There was none.

"It's just wine," he added, his Alpha command pressing against me like a physical weight.

My fingers tightened around the goblet. The rejection letter in my pocket seemed to burn against my thigh.

"To peace," Estella said sweetly, raising her glass.

I raised mine and drank.

The effect was immediate. Fire spread through my veins, my wolf howling in agony as the wolfsbane attacked her. I dropped the goblet, glass shattering across the marble floor as I clutched my throat.

"Sofia!" Someone gasped.

The room spun around me. Through blurred vision, I saw Estella's satisfied smile, the elders' shocked faces, and Cade's expression of irritation rather than concern.

"She can't hold her wine," he announced to the crowd, scooping me up into his arms. Not gently—I felt his fingers dig into my skin. "My Luna needs to learn her limits."

As he carried me out, I heard whispers behind us. "Poor thing... can't even handle one glass..."

"She's always been weak..."

The last thing I saw before the doors closed was Estella raising her untouched goblet in a silent toast.

---

"She'll be fine," the pack doctor said, checking my vitals after administering the antidote. "Her wolf is strong, but wolfsbane is no joke."

Cade paced the clinic room, checking his watch every few minutes. "How long until she's stable?"

"Already stabilizing," the doctor replied. "But she should rest here overnight."

"I can't stay," Cade said immediately. "The Gala is falling apart without me there to manage the fallout from this... incident."

I wanted to call out, to ask him if he even cared that I'd been poisoned. But my throat was raw, my voice a broken whisper.

"I need to return," he continued, straightening his tie. "You'll be safe here."

As he turned to leave, I saw him—the phantom Cade—slipping into the room. Eighteen-year-old Cade moved to my bedside, his translucent form curling up on the floor like a guard dog protecting me.

"I'll stay with her," my phantom whispered, though I was the only one who could hear him.

The real Cade left without a backward glance, the door closing with a soft click that sounded like goodbye.