My Alpha Tried to Kill Me Before the Ceremony

The door to the Luna Suite creaked open, startling me from my half-conscious state. I'd been lying on the floor since Grayson left, my body still aching from his Alpha command. The room was dark except for a sliver of moonlight filtering through the curtains.

"Psst! Dakota!" A soft voice called. "It's me, Elena."

I struggled to lift my head, blinking to clear my vision. Elena Cross, one of the pack's youngest nurses, slipped inside and quickly closed the door behind her.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered, my voice raw from crying.

Elena knelt beside me, her eyes wide with concern. "I saw what happened. What he did to you." She gently helped me sit up, wincing at the bruises on my neck. "I brought water."

The cool glass against my cracked lips was heaven. I drank greedily, then pulled back to study Elena's face. We'd never been close—she was just a junior nurse, barely out of training—but there was something in her eyes I recognized. Anger. Not at me, but for me.

"They're saying you had an accident," she whispered, helping me into a sitting position. "But I know the truth. I've seen how he treats you."

"Why are you helping me?" I asked, wary of another trap.

Elena's jaw tightened. "Because I'm tired of watching him destroy people. And because..." She hesitated, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a small phone. "I have this."

"A burner phone?" I breathed.

She nodded. "Not connected to the pack network. I've been using it to... well, it doesn't matter. But it can help you now."

My heart raced. "Help me how?"

"Send a message. To someone who can help you."

I closed my eyes, thinking fast. There was only one person powerful enough to stand against Grayson—the man my wolf had urged me to find. The man Grayson had exiled years ago.

"August Harvey," I whispered.

Elena's eyes widened. "The Lycan King?"

"He's my only hope." I took the phone with trembling hands. "Can you get me to the bordering Rogue Lands network?"

"Rogues?" Elena looked nervous but nodded. "I know a trader who can get messages through."

I typed quickly, my fingers flying across the keys as I composed an encrypted message:

"To the Exiled King of the Eastern Territories. This is Dakota Miller, daughter of the late Beta James Miller of Silver Creek Pack. I offer you a political alliance—my legitimate backing as the Beta's daughter in exchange for sanctuary and protection. The Alpha has betrayed his oath. The pack is in danger."

I paused, then added: "I am in danger. Help me."

Elena took the phone, her expression grim. "I'll get this to the trader tonight."

"Thank you," I whispered, clutching her hand. "Be careful."

---

The day of the Mate Ceremony arrived with cruel brightness. Sunlight streamed through the windows of the Pack House grand hall, illuminating the lavish decorations—white roses and silver ribbons adorning every surface. The room buzzed with excitement as pack members and visiting dignitaries filled the rows of chairs.

I sat in my wheelchair, positioned near the altar, feeling like a prop in someone else's play. Dr. Webb had indeed visited me last night, injecting me with something that made my thoughts sluggish and my limbs heavy. But I'd fought against the fog, focusing on one thing: survival.

"Ready to make your entrance?" Elder Thomas Kane asked, his voice gruff as he positioned himself behind my chair.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I replied, my tongue feeling thick.

He wheeled me toward the altar where Grayson stood waiting. Tall, handsome, and utterly vile. He wore his ceremonial Alpha robes, looking every bit the perfect leader. The crowd murmured appreciatively as we approached.

"Today," Elder Kane announced, "we witness the sacred bonding of our future Alpha, Grayson Harvey, to his chosen mate, Dakota Miller."

Grayson stepped forward, taking my hand in his. His grip was painfully tight.

"Under the blessing of the Moon Goddess," he began, his voice carrying throughout the hall, "I take this wolf as my Luna, to protect and cherish..."

His words washed over me as I fought to stay conscious. In the front row, Miley sat with her hand resting on her swollen belly, her eyes gleaming with triumph.

"...in sickness and in health, in strength and in weakness..."

I focused on breathing, on keeping my eyes open. Somewhere in this crowd sat August Harvey. I could feel it. My message had reached him.

Grayson continued his vows, playing the part of the devoted mate perfectly. The crowd was captivated by his performance.

"And now," Elder Kane announced, "the future Luna will respond with her vows."

Grayson squeezed my hand, his nails digging into my palm—a warning. I opened my mouth to speak the words I'd been forced to memorize.

But before I could utter a single syllable, a piercing scream cut through the hall.

"AAHHH!" Miley doubled over in her seat, clutching her stomach dramatically. "The baby! My baby!"

Grayson dropped my hand instantly, his face a mask of concern as he rushed to her side. "Miley! What's wrong?"

"The pain," she gasped, tears streaming down her face. "It's too early! Something's wrong with the baby!"

The crowd erupted in chaos as Grayson lifted Miley into his arms. "We need to get her to the infirmary!" he shouted.

And just like that, I was abandoned at the altar.