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The Alpha War God's Reborn Destined Mate

Tango

5.0

Werewolf

10 Chapters

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I poured my entire clan's wealth into raising my commoner husband, Cooper, to the royal court. But at the royal banquet, I was drugged and framed for sleeping with the supreme Pack Alpha, Arther. Cooper burst into the room with the royal guards, his face twisted in fake grief as he pointed his sword at us. "How dare you defile my wife inside the royal palace!" He condemned me to the family dungeon and personally forced lethal silver poison down my throat. As the molten fire scorched my veins, I realized in horror that I was pregnant with Arther's child, but Cooper just watched me bleed out with a cruel smile. Floating as a bodiless soul, I watched Cooper play the heartbroken widower to steal my noble status. I also heard my illegitimate half-sister Kiya laughing about how they had conspired to slash my face and cripple my Inner Wolf years ago, just so Cooper could play my loyal savior. The only one who truly mourned me was Arther, the feared war god, who slaughtered his way into my funeral to avenge me and wept blood over my ice coffin. Until my soul faded, I hated myself for being such a blind, timid fool. My entire miserable life had been a carefully staged trap by the people I trusted most. Opening my eyes again, I was back in my bedroom years ago, my face flawless and my fate still in my hands. This time, I would tear their masks off and make them pay a thousandfold.

The Alpha War God's Reborn Destined Mate Chapter 1

Collette Cooley POV:

Rain lashed against the leaded glass of Morgan Keep as I forced my eyes open, every bone aching as if shattered and reset.

Shreds of my silk gown and crushed pearls from my haircomb littered the rug. Over the faint haze of myrrh, the tangled sheets reeked of something far more lethal: cedar, crushed pine, and raw, suffocating dominance. The unmistakable mark of a warrior Alpha.

Memories flooded my mind like freezing water. Today was the royal return banquet for my only close friend, Kaiya Morgan, the legitimate daughter of Morgan Keep, celebrating her union with the royal line. I had traveled here with my lawful husband, Cooper Ortiz, to offer our congratulations.

During the feast, Cooper, always so gentle and attentive, had urged me to drink several goblets of snow-ridge fruit wine to celebrate my friend's joy. That wine had been laced with a potent secret draught designed to artificially trigger the Heat-the primal, scorching biological cycle where a werewolf is completely ruled by mating instincts.

Once the wine hit my stomach, a suffocating fever burned away my reason and strength. Through my blurred vision, someone had dragged me into this west guest room, followed by the heavy iron clank of the oak door locking from the outside.

Then I was shoved onto the cushions. A towering shadow, built like a giant Dire Wolf, stepped out from behind the screen, radiating the crushing bloodline pressure of a pure-blooded Alpha.

In the dim light, I could not see his face, but my stinging eyes caught the relief carved into the black iron breastplate on his chest. It was the Frostwolf Grand Commander's Platinum Crest-an emblem reserved solely for the supreme war god of the kingdom.

My blood turned to ice. A supreme warlord. Cooper was merely a junior functionary of the Civil Secretariat, wearing the modest dark wool of a clerk adorned with a simple bronze quills-pin. Who was this formidable male claiming my body in the middle of my drugged Heat?

Before I could process the shock, heavy military boots kicked the oak doors open, splintering the wood. The angry shouts of castle guards and noble guests tore through the room.

Cooper rushed in at the very front, his face livid as he pointed a trembling finger at the bed.

"Arther Morgan!" Cooper roared. "You dare trample the royal laws and use your high-ranking Alpha strength to violate my wife!"

Torchlight spilled across the bedside, illuminating a face as cold and sharp as northern ice. It was Kaiya's older brother, the Grand Warlord commanding the Frostwolf Legion-Arther Morgan.

Looking at me with open disgust, Cooper lunged forward and yanked me roughly from the bed. He threw a heavy gray wolf-pelt cloak over my head, cutting off my pale face from the sneering crowd as suffocation and shame pulled me into darkness.

---

A few days later, and my vision focused on the canopy of my four-poster bed in the Maiden's Wing of Cooley Manor in the capital.

For days, my body had been terribly weak, my dormant wolf aching in strange, violent pulses. When my maid summoned the manor's Pack Healer, he placed a palm over my abdomen-and froze in absolute dread. Beneath my skin thrummed the volatile, aggressive seed of an apex warrior wolf, taking root with unstoppable vitality.

Cooper had kept his distance for half a year, and even had he touched me, a lowborn Beta could never spark such violent biological alchemy. This child was conceived in the blinding madness of a forced Heat-sown by the pure-blooded Grand Warlord, Arther Morgan.

I pressed my cold hands over my face, my shoulders shaking uncontrollably as the memory of that scorching grip and low growl echoed in my ears.

Outside the door, a servant's voice rang out. "My Lord, you are here? My Lady is waiting inside."

The wooden door creaked open, and I lowered my hands to watch Cooper walk across the threshold into my inner chamber.

Now standing before me, he wore the lavish obsidian velvet tunic of a High Minister, the silver-chased raven insignia of the Privy Council gleaming prominently at his breast. He carried a dark stone bowl reeking of bitter herbs, looking nothing like the impoverished commoner who had begged for my hand three years ago. Back then, an ambush had left a deep, hideous scar from a poisoned silver blade across half my face and scorched my inner wolf into a state of permanent dormancy. In the eyes of the court, I had fallen from a prized noble daughter into a damaged, wolfless pariah. Only Cooper, a low-born Beta, had sworn never to abandon me, prompting me to pour my entire dowry and my family's noble connections into carving out his political ascendance.

Yet to help the ambitious Third Prince bring down his rival Arther, Cooper had used my body as bait.

My dry lips trembled as I forced out a hoarse whisper. "Why? Why did you do this to me?"

Cooper held a polished obsidian spoon, stirring the dark liquid slowly with a faint, self-satisfied smile on his lips. The surface of the draught shimmered with the faint, deadly glint of crushed silver dust.

"Lottie, this matter is vital to my future," he said, his voice so soft it made my skin crawl. "Arther is always guarded and stays away from women, yet he lowers his defenses only around you. Was that not a golden opportunity gifted to me by the Moon Goddess?"

His eyes gleamed with the triumph of a schemer who had finally climbed into the ranks of the High Council.

"Now, secret letters from the pack Elders impeaching Arther for abusing his Alpha privileges are flying to the council like snow," Cooper continued smoothly. "Even if the Alpha King favors him, he cannot silence the entire realm. Did you not always wish to see me enter the royal core? The Third Prince has kept his word-with Arther brought down, my promotion to High Minister is sealed, and once the northern military power is fully crippled, I will be the first among the new court nobles!"

He stepped closer to the edge of my bed, his smile widening.

"When the new king is crowned, I will stand above ten thousand men. Lottie, you are my lawful wife. Should you not be happy for me?"

He leaned down and pressed the spoon, reeking of death and bitter metal, right against my lips. My chest heaved with rage as a bone-deep chill spread through my limbs.