My Alpha Helped His Mistress Murder My Family

My bare feet slapped against the cold marble floor as I stumbled through the pack house corridors, leaving wet footprints in my wake. The ceremonial dress clung to my skin like a second layer of humiliation, and I could still hear the echo of Capri's laughter ringing in my ears.

I needed to get away. I needed to think. I needed to understand how my mate—my fated mate—could stand there and watch me be degraded at my own parents' memorial.

Kolson's private Alpha office was the closest sanctuary I could find. I pushed through the heavy oak door and immediately went for the small bathroom attached to his workspace. My reflection in the mirror made me flinch. My dark hair was plastered to my skull, mascara streaked down my cheeks in black rivers, and the white silk dress might as well have been invisible.

I grabbed a thick towel from the shelf and wrapped it around my shoulders, but it did nothing to warm the ice that had settled in my chest. My wolf was pacing restlessly, her anger a low, constant growl in the back of my mind.

Something was wrong. Something beyond the obvious cruelty of what had just happened. My instincts were screaming at me, but I couldn't put my finger on what they were trying to tell me.

I walked back into the main office, still dripping, and reached blindly across Kolson's massive mahogany desk for another towel. My elbow knocked against something hard—his tablet, which went sliding across the polished surface.

Ping. Ping. Ping.

The screen lit up with a rapid succession of notifications, all from Capri. The messages were flooding in so fast I could barely read them, but a few phrases caught my eye:

"OMG 50K views already!"

"The comments are INSANE"

"Best content we've made yet!"

We've made?

My blood turned to ice water in my veins. I stared at the screen, my hand hovering over the tablet. I shouldn't look. This was Kolson's private device. But my wolf was practically clawing her way out of my chest, demanding answers.

I touched the screen.

The tablet wasn't even password protected. It opened directly to a message thread between Kolson and Capri, and what I saw there made my knees buckle.

"Operation Ice Queen is a go. You have the bucket ready?"

"Yeah. You sure about the timing? Right during the prayer?"

"Trust me, the shock value will be PERFECT. My followers eat this stuff up."

"Capri, I don't know... it's her parents' memorial."

"Kolson, we talked about this. You promised to help me get to a million followers. This is how we do it. Besides, she'll get over it."

I scrolled up, my hands shaking so violently I could barely control the screen. There were dozens of messages, going back weeks. Planning. Scheming. Plotting my humiliation like it was some kind of business strategy.

But then I saw something that made my world tilt completely off its axis.

A folder labeled "Deleted - Recover?"

My finger hovered over it. Every instinct I had was screaming at me to stop, to put the tablet down, to pretend I'd never seen any of this. But I couldn't. I had to know.

I tapped the folder.

The files that opened made me sink into Kolson's leather chair, my legs no longer able to support me. Mind-link transcripts. Text messages. And something called "Content Scripts" with detailed scenarios and expected reactions.

I found the entry dated three weeks ago. The day I lost the baby.

"Stress Test #3: Capri stages 'emergency' requiring immediate pack response. Aviana left alone during vulnerable time. Film reaction for 'Abandoned Luna' series."

Below that, in Kolson's handwriting: "Capri says the stress hormones will make for better 'authentic' footage. I told her Aviana's been having some issues but she insists the content needs to be real."

And then, Capri's response: "If something happens, we can always spin it as 'tragedy content.' My followers love a good sob story."

If something happens.

They knew. They knew the stress could hurt the baby, and they did it anyway. For content. For views. For Capri's fucking follower count.

My vision blurred as tears of pure rage filled my eyes. But I kept scrolling, because some sick part of me needed to know how deep this betrayal went.

Then I found it. The file that shattered what was left of my world.

"Silvermoon Patrol Routes - CLASSIFIED"

Attached to a message from Capri to someone named @WildlifeVlogger23: "Posted the route schedules like you asked! Can't wait to see what kind of 'wildlife' you capture on camera! This is going to be SUCH good content for my survival series!"

The timestamp was three days before my parents died.

Three days before the rogue attack that killed them.

I stared at the screen until the words blurred together, my brain refusing to process what I was seeing. Capri had leaked classified patrol information to strangers on the internet. She had essentially drawn a map for anyone who wanted to attack the Silvermoon territory.

For a vlog. For content. For views.

My parents died because of a fucking social media post.

The tablet slipped from my numb fingers and clattered to the floor. I sat in the darkness of Kolson's office, wrapped in a towel, staring at nothing as the full scope of the betrayal crashed over me like another bucket of ice water.

They hadn't just humiliated me tonight. They had killed my parents. They had killed my baby. And they had documented every second of my suffering for entertainment.

Somewhere deep in my chest, something that had been cracked finally shattered completely. The mate bond, already weakened by tonight's betrayal, snapped like a rubber band stretched too far.

I wasn't just angry anymore. I was done.

And as I sat there in the dark, my wolf stopped pacing. She sat back on her haunches, tilted her head toward the moon, and began to plan.