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My Mate Killed My Father to Steal My Pack Novel Cover

My Mate Killed My Father to Steal My Pack

During her first transformation, Alora's world shatters when her fated mate, Silas, kills her father to usurp the pack's leadership. Forced into a life of exile as a rogue, the betrayal fuels her transformation from a victim into a vengeful warrior. While Silas solidifies his cruel rule, Alora gathers strength in the shadows. She is determined to return, reclaim her stolen heritage, and execute the Alpha who destroyed her family and future.
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Chapter 3

The full moon hung like a silver medallion in the night sky, its light filtering through the ancient trees of Blood River territory. My skin prickled with the urge to shift, to let Luna free, but Parker's command held me frozen in human form.

"Everyone shift!" Parker's voice rang out across the clearing where the pack had gathered for the monthly run. "Except Serena."

I stood alone as bodies around me contorted and transformed. Bones cracked, fur sprouted, and within moments, dozens of wolves surrounded me, their eyes gleaming with predatory curiosity.

"Tonight," Parker announced, his massive black wolf form towering over the others, "we remind everyone of their place in the pack."

Viviana's russet wolf preened beside him, her tail high as she rubbed against his flank.

"Run," Parker commanded me, his Alpha tone brooking no disobedience.

My legs trembled as I began to jog through the forest, human feet pounding against earth meant for paws. The pack followed, a moving sea of fur and fangs around me.

"Keep up, Omega!" someone called, and a gray wolf nipped playfully at my heel.

Another wolf bumped against my side, nearly knocking me over. "Just a little fun," its owner mind-linked to me.

Luna snarled inside me. *Let me out! We can fight them!*

"Not yet," I whispered, pushing forward despite the burning in my lungs.

The wolves herded me like prey, steering me toward the central clearing. My clothes tore on branches and rocks, leaving me bruised and bleeding by the time we reached the open space.

Parker's wolf stood in the center, his massive form silhouetted against the moonlight. Beside him, Viviana paced with predatory grace.

"Serena," Parker's voice rumbled through the mind-link. "Approach."

I stepped forward on shaking legs.

"Lower," he commanded.

Every fiber of my being rebelled against the word. Luna howled in agony inside me.

"I said lower!" Parker's Alpha command hit me like a physical blow.

My knees buckled. I fell forward onto the dirt.

"Bare your neck," Viviana's voice purred through the link. "Show proper respect to your Alpha and his chosen mate."

Tears streamed down my face as I tilted my head, exposing my throat in the ultimate gesture of submission.

"Good girl," Parker said, his wolf circling me. "Remember this feeling. Remember your place."

---

The storm came three nights later, rain lashing against the windows of my basement room. Thunder provided cover for what I needed to do.

I slipped from my bed, a small bundle of stolen clothes clutched in my hand. The storm would mask my scent, confuse the patrols.

"Just a little further," I whispered to myself as I crept through the darkened Pack House.

The rear door was unlocked—a careless oversight during the storm. I pushed it open, rain soaking my face as I stepped into freedom.

I ran toward the border, heart pounding with hope. Just beyond those trees lay neutral territory.

A hand clamped around my hair, yanking me backward.

"Going somewhere?" Marcus growled, his Beta strength pinning me against the wall.

"Please," I begged. "Just let me go."

His fingers tightened in my hair as he dragged me back toward the Pack House. "Parker will deal with you."

The great hall fell silent as Marcus threw me to the floor before Parker's chair. Viviana sat at his right hand, her smile sharp as a blade.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" Parker asked softly. "That I wouldn't feel you slipping away?"

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small bundle—my parents' photographs, the only ones I'd managed to save.

"Parker, no," I gasped.

His eyes were cold as he held the first photo over a candle flame. "If you try to leave again..."

The photo caught fire, curling into ash as he dropped it.

"I will hunt you down," he continued, lighting another. "And I will kill you slowly."

Each word punctuated by another burning photograph. My mother's smile disappeared into flames. My father's proud stance turned to ash.

Something broke inside me as the last photo burned. But in that breaking, something else hardened—a resolve as unyielding as diamond.

---

"Clean the library today," Parker ordered a week later. "Every shelf, every book."

The library was vast, its shelves reaching toward the ceiling. I dusted methodically, my mind numb with grief and hatred.

A leather-bound tome caught my eye—"Herbalism and Werewolf Physiology." I pulled it down, flipping through pages of dried plants and ancient recipes.

My fingers stopped on a page marked with a faded ribbon. "Scent Masking—Advanced Technique."

Wolfsbane, sage, and river mud. Combined in precise measurements, applied to the skin.

"Could it work?" I whispered to Luna.

*We need to try*, she responded, her voice stronger than it had been in weeks.

That night, I slipped into the healer's garden, fingers trembling as I gathered the ingredients. In my basement room, I crushed and mixed them, following the ancient recipe.

The paste smelled terrible—bitter and acrid. I spread it thinly over my wrist and neck.

"Time to test it," I murmured.

I climbed the stairs to where a guard dozed by the kitchen door. Walking past him, I held my breath.

He didn't stir.

The paste had worked. My scent was gone.

I returned to my room, mind racing with possibilities. This was just the beginning. With careful planning, I could disappear completely.

And when I did... Parker Warren would never find me.

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