My Mate Killed My Father to Steal My Pack

The white ceremonial robes felt heavy against my skin as I stood at the altar, my heart racing with anticipation. Tonight was supposed to be the beginning of my forever—my Union Ceremony with Parker Warren, the Alpha of Blood River Pack. The man who was destined to be my mate.

"Are you ready?" Parker whispered, his breath warm against my ear. His eyes sparkled with what looked like excitement, but something in them seemed... off. A coldness I couldn't quite place.

"I've been ready since the Moon Goddess paired us," I replied, forcing a smile. My wolf, Luna, purred contentedly inside me. *Finally, we would be complete.*

The pack elders surrounded us, their faces solemn as they prepared for the sacred marking ritual. My father, Alpha Murphy, stood tall and proud, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "My little girl," he had said earlier, "you're the future of Silver Creek."

Parker took my hand, his grip firm. "I, Alpha Parker Warren, take you—"

The explosion cut through his words like a blade.

The ground shook beneath our feet. Screams erupted from the perimeter as flames erupted in the distance.

"Rogues!" someone shouted. "They've breached the borders!"

My father immediately shifted into his wolf form, a massive silver beast that roared a warning to our pack. "Protect the Alpha pair!" he commanded through the mind-link.

Parker's grip tightened on my hand. "Stay close to me," he ordered, but his eyes weren't on me—they were scanning the chaos with an odd intensity.

The night air filled with smoke and the metallic scent of blood. Wolves clashed in brutal combat around us. I watched in horror as a massive rogue wolf lunged at my father, teeth bared.

"Father!" I screamed, trying to pull away from Parker to shift and help.

His arms locked around me like iron. "No! It's too dangerous!"

I struggled against his hold. "Let me go! I need to help him!"

Through tears, I saw my father fighting bravely, but he was outnumbered. The rogue leader, a massive black wolf with a scar across his muzzle, lunged for my father's throat.

"No!" The scream tore from my lungs as my father's body crumpled to the ground.

Parker pulled me against his chest, his hand covering my eyes. "Don't look," he murmured, but his voice lacked the compassion his words suggested.

When he finally released me, the Pack House was engulfed in flames. My home. My family. My legacy.

---

A week later, I stood at the window of my new "room" in Blood River Pack House. The word room was generous—it was a prison with silk sheets.

Parker had carried me across the threshold himself, playing the part of the grieving fiancé perfectly. "I will protect the last of the Silver Creek bloodline," he had declared to his assembled pack, his voice breaking with emotion that never reached his eyes.

But at night, when the pack slept, he came to my door. "Serena," he said gently, "I can't complete our