My Alpha Ordered Me to Die for His Mistress

The darkness tasted like copper and regret.

I clawed my way back to consciousness through layers of pain, my throat raw, my chest aching like someone had cracked my ribs open. Every breath felt like swallowing broken glass.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The steady rhythm of a heart monitor pulled me fully awake. Sterile white ceiling. Antiseptic smell. The pack hospital.

I was alive.

My wolf stirred weakly in my mind, whimpering. She felt distant, damaged, like a part of me had been torn away and hastily stitched back together.

"You're awake." A deep, unfamiliar voice spoke from my left.

I turned my head slowly, every muscle protesting. A man sat in the chair beside my bed—tall, broad-shouldered, with silver threading through his dark hair. His eyes were the color of storm clouds, and they held an authority that made my wolf instinctively lower her head.

Lycan. Not just any Lycan—the enforcer who'd saved me.

"High Enforcer Silas," I managed, my voice a broken rasp.

"Just Silas is fine." He leaned forward, his expression grave. "You were poisoned with concentrated Wolfsbane. Military grade. Someone wanted you dead, Beta Lawrence."

The words should have shocked me. They didn't. I'd known the moment that false water touched my tongue.

"How long?" I asked.

"Thirty-six hours. Your heart stopped twice during treatment." His jaw tightened. "If I'd arrived five minutes later, there would have been nothing to save."

I closed my eyes, processing. Twice. I'd died twice while Cameron stood over me, accusing me of faking.

The door burst open with enough force to rattle the medical equipment.

"Finally!" Cameron's voice boomed through the small room. "Do you have any idea what you've cost this pack?"

I opened my eyes. My mate stood in the doorway, his face flushed with anger, his Alpha aura pressing against the room like a physical weight. Behind him, I caught a glimpse of pack warriors stationed outside—whether to protect me or guard me, I couldn't tell.

Silas rose smoothly, placing himself between Cameron and my bed. "Alpha Bradley. The patient is still recovering from a murder attempt."

"Murder attempt?" Cameron's laugh was sharp, dismissive. "Is that what she told you? Enforcer, I appreciate your concern, but Beta Lawrence has always been... dramatic. She had a panic attack. Hysteria brought on by stress."

Hysteria. The word landed like a slap.

"I smelled the Wolfsbane myself," Silas said, his voice dangerously quiet. "I administered the antidote. There is no question of what happened."

"You were mistaken." Cameron moved closer, his Alpha tone creeping into his words. "Perhaps the wine was slightly off, but Nora has always been prone to exaggeration. She's embarrassed the Silver Moon Pack in front of Alpha Blackwood. The treaty negotiations are ruined."

I watched him speak, this man I'd loved, this mate I'd trusted with everything. His eyes never once met mine with concern. Only irritation. Only inconvenience.

"The treaty," I whispered, and something cold and hard crystallized in my chest. "That's what you're worried about."

"Of course that's what I'm worried about!" He finally looked at me, and there was nothing in his gaze but contempt. "You've cost us everything with your theatrics. When you're released, you will personally apologize to Alpha Blackwood. You will grovel if necessary. And then we'll discuss your future as Beta."

My future. As if he held it in his hands.

Silas's hand moved to the weapon at his belt. "Alpha Bradley, I'm going to ask you to leave. Now."

"This is my pack hospital—"

"And this is a Lycan Council investigation." Silas's aura expanded, flooding the room with power that made Cameron stumble back a step. "The banquet hall remains a crime scene under lockdown. You will leave. Now."

For a moment, I thought Cameron might challenge him. But even his arrogance had limits. He shot me one last glare—promising retribution—and stalked out.

The silence he left behind felt heavier than his presence.

"That man," Silas said carefully, "is your fated mate?"

"Yes." The word tasted like ash.

He studied me for a long moment, then pulled out a tablet. "I need your statement about what happened. Everything you remember."

I closed my eyes, and my mind—my cursed, perfect memory—replayed every detail. Yasmin's smile. The switched vial. Cameron's ice-cold eyes.

But something else surfaced too. Something I'd been too busy, too trusting, too blind to see before.

The ledgers. The pack's financial records I'd been auditing for months. The discrepancies I'd noted but dismissed as clerical errors.

"Enforcer Silas," I said slowly, my eyes opening. "I think I know why someone tried to kill me."

His expression sharpened. "Go on."

"The Silver Moon Pack accounts. There's been embezzlement—systematic, careful, hidden in sub-directories under false vendor codes." My photographic memory pulled up exact numbers, dates, patterns. "Account code SM-7743-Omega-Services. Check the transaction logs against pack duty rosters. Specifically, Yasmin Foster's shifts."

Silas's fingers flew across his tablet. His expression darkened with each passing second.

"The amounts align perfectly with her schedule," I continued, my voice growing stronger despite the pain. "Small withdrawals, always under the audit threshold. But over eighteen months? She's stolen nearly fifty thousand dollars."

"Fifty thousand." Silas looked up at me with something like respect. "That's motive for murder."

"That's motive for desperation." I met his eyes. "She didn't just want me dead, Enforcer. She needed me dead. Because I was three days away from presenting my audit report to the Alpha."

Silas stood, his jaw set. "I'm placing Yasmin Foster under immediate arrest. And Beta Lawrence?" He paused at the door. "You just saved your own life. Again."

As the door closed behind him, I lay back against the pillows, my heart monitor beeping steadily.

I'd survived the poison. Survived Cameron's betrayal. And now, finally, I understood the game being played.

My wolf stirred, wounded but not broken.

*Survive,* she whispered again. *And then make them pay.*