The Alpha's Regret: Murdered By Her Mate

"Sign it," Simon growled, slamming the document onto the rickety table.

As the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack and my fated mate, he wasn't asking. He was commanding me to give my Wolf Essence—the source of my life—to my dying sister, Laila.

"If I give her my essence, I will die," I whispered, my body already trembling from the hidden poison coursing through my veins.

But Simon only looked at me with cold, amber eyes.

"Stop lying, Zora. You're just jealous because she is the future Luna and you are nothing. Sign it, or I will reject you publicly right now."

Broken and hopeless, I signed my life away.

I died the moment the silver scalpel touched my skin on the operating table.

It was only during the autopsy that the surgeon screamed in horror.

She discovered my organs were liquefied by chronic Wolfsbane poisoning.

And worse, she found that I had no essence to give. My primary essence had already been stolen five years ago—carved out of me by Laila herself to fake her own power.

Simon fell to his knees in the morgue, the realization shattering him.

He had forced his true mate to die to save the monster who had been killing her all along.

In a fit of madness, he executed Laila and then drove a silver dagger into his own heart, desperate to find me in the afterlife.

"I'm here, Zora," his ghost wept, kneeling before me in the realm of the dead. "Please, forgive me."

I looked at the man who had watched me rot without seeing me.

"No," I said.

And I turned my back on him forever.

Chapter 1

Zora POV:

The attic smelled of wet rot and old misery. I lay curled on the thin mattress, my body trembling not from the draft, but from the liquid fire coursing through my veins.

Wolfsbane.

*It wasn't a quick death. It was a slow, sadistic eviction.* It hunted down the wolf first, dissolving the spirit before coming for the flesh. My wolf, once a vibrant, golden thing in my mind, was silent. She was curled into a tight, shivering ball in the back of my consciousness, fading like a dying ember in the rain.

The door burst open, the handle slamming into the plaster with a violence that made my teeth rattle.

Simon Knightley filled the frame. His broad shoulders blocked out the hallway light, casting a long, jagged shadow over me. He was the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack, the predator at the top of the food chain. He used to smell like storm clouds and ozone-a scent that made my knees weak with want. Now, it just smelled like danger.

"Get up, Zora," he growled. It wasn't a request; it was a vibration that shook my bones.

I tried to push myself up, but my arms were wet noodles. The poison had eaten too much of me. I coughed, the taste of copper and ash coating my tongue.

"I...