My Alpha Tried to Kill Me for His Gamma

The summons came without warning. My phone buzzed with a message from Beta Marcus: *Pack assembly. Grand Hall. Now.*

I knew better than to ask questions. For twelve years, I'd learned to navigate the invisible chains that bound me to this Pack House—to Asher.

"Remember your place," Asher had reminded me this morning, his fingers tracing the outline of my missing arm with that mixture of fascination and possession that made my skin crawl. "You'll watch from the balcony. I don't want you... distracting from the announcement."

The grand hall buzzed with excitement when I slipped into the shadows of the upper balcony. Pack members filled the seats below, their eager faces turned toward the empty platform. I pressed myself against the wall, making myself as small as possible. My wolf, Luna, whimpered inside me.

*We're invisible again,* she whispered. *We're always invisible.*

"Attention, Silverclaw Pack," Asher's voice boomed across the hall as he strode onto the platform. My breath caught at the sight of him—tall, commanding, beautiful in that terrible way predators are beautiful. His silver-streaked hair caught the light, and his remaining arm gestured with practiced authority.

"Today marks a new chapter for our pack," he continued, his ice-blue eyes scanning the crowd. "We've been blessed with a rare gift—a warrior who understands our unique... aesthetic."

My stomach twisted as a woman stepped forward from the wings. She moved with military precision, her auburn hair pulled back in a severe braid that emphasized her sharp features. But it was the empty sleeve pinned carefully to her shoulder that made my heart stutter.

"Serenity Blackwood," Asher announced, his voice warm with approval I'd never heard directed at me. "A true warrior who sacrificed her arm in battle against rogues."

Serenity's green eyes gleamed as she lifted her chin, accepting the pack's applause. I caught the faint scent of antiseptic and something else—something that made Luna growl softly.

"Not just any warrior," Asher continued, "but my spiritual equal. Someone who understands the beauty in our... shared brokenness."

The pack erupted in cheers again. I pressed my hand against my mouth, stifling the sound that threatened to escape. Spiritual equal? What was he saying?

---

"More wine, Serenity?" Asher's voice was honey-smooth as he held out the crystal decanter.

"I'd be honored, Alpha," she replied, extending her glass with her remaining hand.

I stood rigid beside them, the bottle trembling slightly in my grip as I poured. The private Alpha dining room felt suffocating, the candlelight casting long shadows across the mahogany table.

"Perfect," Asher murmured, but he wasn't looking at the wine. He was studying us—Serenity and me—side by side. "Such symmetry."

I felt his gaze travel from Serenity's missing arm to my own stump, but there was no warmth in his eyes when they reached me.

"Do you know what I love most about Serenity's injury?" he asked conversationally, swirling his wine. "It's heroic. A badge of courage earned in battle."

Serenity smiled, a practiced modesty that didn't reach her eyes.

"Unlike some tragedies," he continued, his gaze hardening as it fell on me, "which stem from... weakness."

The words hit like physical blows. Luna snarled inside me, but she was too weak to push back.

"I was protecting you," I whispered, the words escaping before I could stop them.

Asher's eyes flashed dangerously. "You dare question me?"

The Alpha Tone hit me like a physical weight, driving me to my knees beside the table. The wine bottle slipped from my fingers, but Asher caught it effortlessly, setting it aside before turning his full attention to me.

"Look at this," he said to Serenity, gesturing to my kneeling form. "The perfect reflection—one knee for each of us who's missing something."

Serenity's laugh was light, musical. "You're right, Alpha. We are mirrors of each other."

---

"Drink it all," Asher instructed, holding out the delicate porcelain cup filled with sweet-smelling tea.

I took it with my trembling hand, the familiar ritual making my stomach clench. The tea was thick, herbal—and laced with wolfsbane.

"It's for your own good," he murmured, watching me intently. "Only I know how to care for your... fragile form."

Luna whimpered as the cup touched my lips. *Don't drink it. We need to be strong.*

But I couldn't fight him. Not yet.

The liquid burned going down, sweet at first then bitter. Asher's fingers traced my jawline, then moved to my stump, caressing it with obsessive tenderness.

"My beautiful broken thing," he whispered. "So dependent. So perfect."

The familiar fog began to spread through my mind, dulling Luna's voice until she was barely a whisper. My limbs grew heavy, my thoughts sluggish.

"Good girl," Asher praised, taking the empty cup from my limp fingers. "Now sleep. Tomorrow will be... interesting."

As darkness claimed me, I caught a glimpse of something in his eyes—not love, not even desire. Ownership. Satisfaction.

And something else. Something that made what remained of Luna's consciousness shiver with dread.

Planning.