My Alpha Mate Poisoned Me for His Mistress

Trevor didn't call it house arrest. He called it "rest."

"You're not well," he said the morning after I confronted him. He stood in the doorway of my room, arms crossed, his face blank. "You need time to recover. To think clearly."

"I'm thinking clearly," I said.

He reached out and took my phone from the nightstand. I lunged for it, but he pulled it back, holding it above my head like I was a child reaching for a toy.

"You'll get this back when you're better," he said.

Then he left. I heard the lock click from the outside.

For the first two days, I paced. The room was small—just a bed, a dresser, and a narrow window that looked out over the pack training grounds. I could see wolves running drills in the morning, sparring in the afternoon. Life went on. Normal. Steady.

No one came to check on me.

Gia's Omega servants left trays of food outside my door three times a day. Plain oatmeal. Dry toast. Watered-down soup. I ate because Selene needed the strength, not because I wanted to. The trays were always gone when I woke up the next morning, replaced with new ones. Silent. Efficient.

On the third day, I heard voices in the hallway. Two women, whispering.

"Is it true?" one asked. "That she stole from the treasury?"

"That's what Luna Gia said," the other replied. "She's unstable. Dangerous."

"I always thought she was strange. Too quiet."

"Quiet ones are the worst."

They laughed softly and moved on.

I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at my hands. These were the same wolves I had cooked for. The same wolves whose children I had healed when they scraped their knees or caught fevers. I had spent three years pouring everything I had into this pack, and now they believed I was a thief.

Selene whimpered. *They never saw us.*

No. They hadn't.

The only one who came was Toby.

It was always late at night, long after the pack house had gone quiet. I would hear his small footsteps in the hallway, soft and hesitant. Then his voice, barely a whisper, would slip through the gap beneath the door.

"Miss Sophia?"

The first time, I didn't answer. I pressed my hand over my mouth and tried not to cry.

The second time, he tried again.

"Miss Sophia, are you angry with me?"

I crawled off the bed and knelt by the door. I pressed my palm flat against the wood.

"No, sweetheart," I said quietly. "I'm not angry with you."

"Mama said you're sick. She said you might go away."

My throat tightened. "I'm okay, Toby. I promise."

"Can I come in?"

"Not right now."

There was a long pause. Then I heard a soft rustling sound. He had sat down on the floor.

"I brought Mr. Woolly," he said.

Mr. Woolly. The stuffed wolf I had knitted for him during my first month in Dusthowl, back when I still believed Trevor loved me. Back when I thought this place could be home.

"That's good," I said. My voice cracked. "You take care of him, okay?"

"Okay."

He stayed there for a while, humming softly to himself. Then his footsteps pattered away.

I stayed on the floor, my forehead pressed against the door, and let myself cry.

On the fifth day, Trevor unlocked the door.

"Get dressed," he said. "We're leaving in an hour."

I looked up at him from the bed. "Leaving?"

"Supply run. Neighboring territory. You're coming with us."

"Why?"

He didn't answer. He just turned and walked out, leaving the door open.

I didn't trust it. But I also didn't have a choice.

I pulled on jeans and a sweater, tied my hair back, and followed him downstairs. Gia was waiting by the front door, Toby's hand clutched in hers. She smiled when she saw me.

"Good morning, Sophia," she said brightly. "Feeling better?"

I didn't answer.

Trevor led us out to the truck. It was an old pickup, rusted at the edges, the bed loaded with empty crates. He opened the passenger door and gestured for Gia and Toby to climb in. Then he looked at me.

"Back seat," he said.

I climbed in and buckled my seatbelt. Toby turned around and waved at me, clutching Mr. Woolly to his chest. I tried to smile.

The drive was long. We passed through dense forest, the road narrow and winding. Trevor didn't speak. Gia hummed softly, scrolling through her phone. Toby fell asleep against her shoulder.

When we finally stopped, it was at a rest area near the territorial border. The parking lot was empty except for a semi-truck idling near the far edge. Trevor killed the engine and climbed out.

"Wait here," he said.

Gia nodded. I stayed in the back seat, watching through the window as Trevor walked toward the truck. The driver stepped out, a broad-shouldered man with a greying beard. They shook hands. Talked. Trevor gestured toward the crates in the pickup bed.

Then I smelled it.

Rotten meat. Wet fur. Blood.

Selene's head snapped up. *Rogues.*

I turned toward the tree line. At first, I saw nothing. Then the shadows moved.

Five wolves. Maybe six. Their pelts were matted and scarred, their eyes yellow and wild. They slunk out of the forest, low to the ground, teeth bared.

Gia saw them too. She gasped and grabbed Toby, yanking him awake.

"Trevor!" she screamed.

He spun around. The rogues lunged.

Everything happened fast. Trevor shifted mid-run, his clothes tearing as his ashen-grey wolf burst forward. The truck driver scrambled back into his cab and slammed the door. Gia threw open the passenger door and dragged Toby out, running toward Trevor.

I fumbled with my seatbelt. My hands were shaking. The buckle wouldn't release.

One of the rogues veered toward the pickup. It was massive, its ribs showing through its filthy coat, saliva dripping from its jaws. It circled the truck, growling.

I finally got the seatbelt off and reached for the door handle.

Then Trevor was there.

He wasn't in wolf form anymore. He had shifted back, his chest heaving, blood streaking his shoulder. He grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the truck.

"Trevor—"

He shoved me.

Hard.

I stumbled backward, my feet skidding on the gravel. The rogue's head snapped toward me. Its eyes locked onto mine.

Trevor scooped Toby into his arms and ran for the semi-truck.

The rogue lunged.

I tried to dodge, but I wasn't fast enough. Its claws raked across my shoulder, tearing through fabric and skin. Pain exploded down my arm. I hit the ground hard, gravel biting into my palms.

The rogue loomed over me, its breath hot and rancid.

Selene screamed. *Fight. FIGHT.*

But I couldn't shift. The wolfsbane was still in my system, still choking her, still keeping her caged.

The rogue's jaws opened wide.

And then something hit it from the side.