My Mate Tried to Kill Me

The dungeon smelled like rot and old blood. I sat on the stone floor, my back against the damp wall, wrists bound in iron chains that bit into my skin with every breath. Above me, somewhere in the world of light and music, Kieran was preparing to mark another woman.

I'd failed. Failed to prove the truth. Failed to save him. Failed at everything.

My wolf whimpered inside me, so weak I could barely feel her anymore. The mate bond pulled at my chest like a fishhook, dragging me toward him even as he prepared to sever it forever. In a few hours, I'd feel that bond snap. I'd feel the part of my soul that belonged to him die.

Maybe I deserved it. Maybe the Moon Goddess really had made a mistake.

Tears tracked down my face, mixing with the dirt and blood already there. I closed my eyes, too exhausted to even cry properly anymore.

Then the moon rose.

I felt it before I saw it—a beam of silver light cutting through the barred window high above. It touched my skin, and something inside me ignited.

Heat. Not the familiar warmth of a shift, but something else entirely. Something that burned through my veins like liquid fire, racing from my fingertips to my core. My eyes snapped open, and the dungeon blazed with light.

Violet light.

I stared at my hands. They were glowing, pulsing with an energy I'd never felt before. The iron chains around my wrists began to smoke, the metal heating until it glowed red.

"What—" The word died in my throat as power surged through me, so intense I thought I might shatter from it.

My wolf stirred. Not the weak, cowering creature I'd carried for years, but something ancient and fierce. Something that had been sleeping, waiting.

*Royal blood,* she whispered. *Our true blood.*

The chains snapped.

I gasped as the iron fell away, the broken links clattering to the stone floor. I stood on shaking legs, staring at my hands—still glowing that impossible violet, still burning with power that felt both foreign and intimately mine.

Above me, music drifted down. The ceremony was starting.

Kieran. I had to get to Kieran.

I crossed to the cell door, my body moving with a speed and grace I'd never possessed. The wood was old, rotting at the hinges. I pressed my palm against it, and the violet light flared brighter.

The door exploded outward.

I stepped into the corridor, my heart hammering. A guard rounded the corner, his eyes widening when he saw me standing there, free, glowing like some kind of avenging spirit.

"How did you—"

I moved before he could finish. One moment I was ten feet away, the next my hand was on his chest, shoving him back against the wall with strength that shouldn't have been possible. His head cracked against stone, and he slumped to the ground, unconscious.

I stared at him, then at my hands. What was happening to me?

No time. No time to think, to question, to understand.

I ran.

The dungeon corridors blurred past me, my feet barely touching the ground. I took stairs three at a time, my body responding to commands before my mind could process them. Guards shouted behind me, but I was faster. So much faster.

The ceremonial hall was on the main floor. I could hear the music growing louder, could hear the murmur of hundreds of voices. The elite of the werewolf world, gathered to witness the mating of an Alpha and his chosen Luna.

Gathered to witness my destruction.

I burst through a service entrance, startling a group of servers. They scattered, champagne glasses crashing to the floor. I didn't stop. Couldn't stop.

The grand doors to the hall loomed ahead, carved oak inlaid with silver. Through them, I could hear the officiant's voice, deep and resonant.

"We gather under the light of the Moon Goddess to witness the sacred bond between Alpha Kieran Foster of Shadow Creek Pack, and Ava Anderson, daughter of Alpha Marcus Anderson of Crescent Moon Pack..."

My hands hit the doors. The violet light flared one more time, so bright it hurt to look at.

The doors flew open.

Every head in the hall turned toward me. Hundreds of eyes, hundreds of faces frozen in shock. At the altar, Kieran stood in a black suit, his hand on Ava's waist. She wore white lace and a smile that died the moment she saw me.

I stood in the doorway, breathing hard, my dress torn and bloody, my wrists marked with burns from broken chains.

And my eyes—I could feel them still glowing that impossible, undeniable violet.

The color of Lycan royalty.

Kieran's face went white. "Estelle?"

I stepped into the hall, and the crowd parted like water, instinct driving them back from whatever I'd become.

"Stop," I said, my voice carrying through the sudden silence. "Stop this ceremony. Now."