My Alpha Tried to Kill Me for Power

The war room smelled of coffee and ambition. I stood over the massive oak table, my fingers tracing the contours of the Northern Valley map I'd spent three days perfecting. The territory was rich with resources—lumber, water, game—everything our pack needed to thrive. But taking it would require precision.

"The key is here," I said, pointing to a narrow pass between two mountains. "If we position scouts here and here, we can monitor the enemy's movements without being detected. Then we send a small team to secure the eastern ridge while the main force—"

"Estella." Damien's voice cut through my explanation like a blade. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest, his Alpha aura filling the room. "You're overthinking this."

I swallowed my frustration. "With respect, Alpha, the supply lines are vulnerable if we don't—"

"Enough." He straightened, his jaw tightening. "The Elders are waiting."

I stepped back, allowing him to approach the table. My table. My strategy. My victory that would be his.

Damien studied the map, his fingers memorizing the routes I'd marked. I watched him commit every detail to memory—the same details he'd ignored when I'd first presented them.

"The plan is solid," he finally said, rolling up the map. "I'll present it to the Elders tonight."

"Should I come?" I asked, knowing the answer.

He paused, looking at me with those golden eyes that once made my heart race. Now they just made me feel invisible.

"No. Stay here." He gestured to the coffee cups scattered around the table. "Clean this up. And make more coffee. The Elders like it strong."

I nodded, my fingers curling into fists at my sides. "Yes, Alpha."

He left without another word, taking my work, my ideas, my future with him.

---

The morning air was crisp against my skin as I watched the warriors train from the sidelines. Their movements were fluid, powerful—everything I wasn't.

"Did you hear about the Northern Valley plan?" A young Delta named Kai asked his training partner. "Brilliant strategy. Alpha says we can take it without losing a single wolf."

"I heard he stayed up all night developing it," another replied. "That's what makes him a great Alpha."

I turned away, focusing on the trees beyond the training field. Seven years. Seven years I'd been doing this work while Damien took the credit. Seven years of being the ghost behind his throne.

"Estella?"

I turned to find Brielle Walker approaching, her perfect blonde hair catching the sunlight. The daughter of Alpha Marcus wore her power like jewelry—flaunted it for all to see.

"Brielle," I acknowledged, keeping my voice neutral.

"I just wanted to say how sorry I am about your... situation." Her sympathy was as fake as her smile. "It must be so difficult, being so... fragile."

She twisted her wrist, drawing attention to the silver bracelet there. I recognized it instantly—a Grant family heirloom that Damien had promised would one day be mine.

"It suits you," I said quietly.

"Oh, this old thing?" She laughed, but her eyes were calculating. "Damien insisted I wear it. Said it looked better on me than collecting dust."

I caught the scent then—Damien's distinct pine and smoke mixed with her expensive perfume. My stomach clenched.

"If you'll excuse me," I murmured, turning away.

---

"Sit down, Estella." Damien's office was dark, the only light coming from the lamp on his desk. He gestured to the chair across from him.

I sat, folding my hands in my lap. "You wanted to see me, Alpha?"

"There's a new threat emerging." He leaned forward, his expression grave. "Silver Dust."

My breath caught. The drug was notorious among rogues—it forced painful shifts, sometimes permanently damaging a werewolf's ability to change.

"We've received intelligence that it's being distributed in No Man's Land," he continued. "I need someone to go undercover, gather proof of who's behind it."

"You want me to go?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"Only you could do this, Estella." His voice softened, becoming the Damien I'd fallen in love with years ago. "You're smart enough to blend in. Strong enough to survive if detected."

Strong? Me? The woman who couldn't shift?

"This will be the last dangerous mission I ask of you," he promised, reaching across the desk to take my hand. "After this, I'll acknowledge your contributions publicly. You have my word."

I looked into his eyes, searching for truth. Finding none.

"When do I leave?" I asked.

"Tomorrow night." He squeezed my hand. "Pack light. Take only what you need to look like a helpless traveler."

Helpless. That's what he thought of me.

Little did he know that helplessness could sometimes be the most dangerous weapon of all.