After His Mistress Poisoned the Alpha, I Walked Away

The moonlight filtered through the curtains as I carefully measured the dried moonflower petals into the mortar. My hands moved with practiced precision, grinding the rare herbs into a fine powder. Ten years of this routine had made me an expert in preparing the "Moonbane" serum—the only thing keeping Carson's wolf from going feral.

I glanced at the clock. 5:30 AM. If I didn't get this to him soon, the effects of yesterday's dose would wear off, and his wolf would begin to stir restlessly. The thought sent a chill down my spine. I'd seen what happened when the Blackwood Alphas went without their medicine.

"Just a few more minutes," I whispered to myself, adding three drops of distilled water to the mixture.

My wolf, Silver, stirred within me. *He doesn't deserve your dedication.*

"I know," I murmured back. "But it's not about what he deserves. It's about what I promised."

The treaty between our packs had been clear—I would heal the Blackwood Alpha's curse, and in return, my small pack would receive protection. For ten years, I'd clung to the hope that if I could save Carson, he might finally see me as something more than a convenient healer.

I carefully poured the finished serum into a small glass vial, sealing it with a cork. The liquid glowed faintly blue—a sign of its potency. One dose would last exactly twenty-four hours.

With a deep breath, I made my way through the quiet hallways of the pack house toward the Alpha quarters. The corridors were empty this early, but I could still feel the weight of the pack's judgment. The unwanted mate. The outsider.

As I approached Carson's door, I smoothed down my simple gray dress and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. My heart hammered against my ribs.

"Alpha," I called softly, knocking on the heavy oak door. "Your morning dose is ready."

Silence answered me.

"Alpha?" I tried again, louder this time.

The door swung open abruptly, revealing Bria. She wore nothing but Carson's black button-down shirt, her golden-brown hair tumbling over her shoulders. The sight of her in his clothes sent a familiar ache through my chest.

"Elena," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "You're up early."

I held up the vial. "I need to give Alpha his medicine."

"Carson is still sleeping," she said, blocking the doorway. "He doesn't need your poisonous sludge this morning."

"It's not sludge," I said quietly. "It's moonflower extract with—"

"I don't care what it is," she cut me off. "He won't be taking it today."

Before I could respond, a deep voice came from behind her. "What's going on?"

Carson appeared in the doorway, his dark hair tousled from sleep. His eyes, normally a piercing blue, were still cloudy with fatigue. He looked between us, then settled his gaze on the vial in my hand.

"What is that?" he asked, though we both knew perfectly well.

"Your daily serum," I replied, holding it out to him. "The effects of yesterday's dose will wear off soon."

He scoffed, taking the vial from my hand only to set it on a nearby table. "I'm not taking that poisonous sludge today."

My stomach clenched at his words—so similar to Bria's. "Carson, please. Without it—"

"Without it, I'll be fine," he interrupted, his tone hardening. "I've been fine for twenty-six years before you came along with your so-called cures."

"May I remind you," I said carefully, "that your father wasn't fine without his medication."

His eyes flashed with anger. "Don't you dare mention my father to me."

Bria placed a hand on his arm, her fingers lingering. "Don't let her ruin our day," she purred.

Carson's expression softened as he looked at her. Then his eyes hardened again as he turned back to me. "Since you're up so early, you can make yourself useful. Prepare a picnic basket for our run today."

"A picnic?" I echoed.

"Yes," he said coldly. "For Bria and me. We're running near the northern border."

My heart sank. The Winter Solstice Run was traditionally for mates to strengthen their bond. "I could join you," I suggested quietly. "I haven't shifted in weeks, and—"

"No," Carson cut me off. "You won't join us. You'll prepare the food and then stay here."

Bria's lips curved into a triumphant smile. "We need wine, fresh bread, and those little strawberries Carson likes."

I stood frozen, the rejection stinging like a physical blow.

"Well?" Carson demanded. "Is there a problem?"

"No," I managed. "No problem."

"Good," he said, turning away. "Have it ready in an hour."

As they closed the door in my face, I stood there for a long moment, the empty vial still in my hand. Silver growled within me.

*He doesn't deserve us.*

For the first time in ten years, I found myself agreeing with her.