My Alpha Helped His Mistress Murder My Family

The scent of burning sage and crushed pine needles hung thick in the evening air. I stood before the ancient stone altar, the heavy white silk of my traditional Luna ceremonial dress pooling around my bare feet. My hands trembled as I gripped the silver chalice. Today wasn't about my title as the Luna of the Shadowcrest Pack. Today, I was just Aviana—an orphaned daughter mourning the two greatest warriors the Silvermoon Pack had ever known.

My parents.

Tears hot and fast tracked down my cheeks as I looked out at the sea of faces in the twilight. The Shadowcrest elders stood in the front row, their heads bowed in deep respect. Beside them was Beta Ryan Cross, his expression tight with shared sorrow. And lingering near the back, an imposing shadow among the visiting dignitaries, was Lycan Prince Maximus Hamilton. Even in my grief, the raw, suffocating power of his Lycan aura was undeniable, demanding silent reverence.

I took a shaky breath, raising my face to the rising moon. "Goddess, guide their fierce souls," I whispered, my voice cracking as I recited the ancient pack prayers. "They bled for the pack. They fought for the innocent. Welcome these warriors to your celestial hunting grounds..."

The sacred silence of the clearing was absolute. My wolf whimpered in my chest, a hollow, aching sound of pure loss. I closed my eyes, seeking the comforting warmth of my fated mate, Alpha Kolson, who was supposed to be standing right behind me, anchoring me through the worst pain of my life.

Then, the world exploded in ice.

A massive, violent wave of freezing water smashed into the back of my head and shoulders. The sheer force of it knocked the breath from my lungs. I gasped, a violent, choking sound, as the silver chalice slipped from my numb fingers and clattered against the stone altar.

The bone-chilling shock paralyzed me. Blessed moon water—kept in ice-cold subterranean caverns for the ritual—now drenched me from head to toe. But the cold was nothing compared to the immediate, horrifying reality of my ceremonial dress. The pristine, heavy white silk instantly turned completely transparent. It plastered to my shivering skin, outlining every curve, every inch of my body, exposing me to the elders, the warriors, and the visiting Alphas.

I stood frozen, dripping and humiliated on the sacred altar of my parents' memorial.

And then, a sound sliced through the horrified silence of the crowd.

Laughter. Loud, obnoxious, grating laughter.

I spun around, my wet hair whipping across my face. Standing just inches away was Capri. Kolson’s childhood friend. She was holding her phone up, the glaring flash of her camera light blinding me in the dim twilight. She was practically doubled over, cackling as she captured every angle of my shivering, exposed body.

"Oh my god, her face!" Capri squealed, tapping her screen frantically. "This is going to get a million views. The 'Ice Bucket Grief Challenge'!"

My stomach plummeted. I looked past the blinding light