In Bed With My Father's Deadly Rival

Nicole’s POV

“Kill the Alpha of Kingswood Pack, and steal the relic!”

“But first, his mate guards the relic with her life. Kill her quietly, or the relic’s wards will alert every wolf in the territory. If she lives, she’ll warn him. She already suspects us.”

Father glared at me, then spat at my face. “Prove you’re not useless or do not bother coming back.”

My father’s words played on repeat in my head every single second reminding me I needed to murder the man I loved all my life tonight.

Someone brushed past my shoulder, laughing, already drunk.

I adjusted the black silk mask and was about to step into line with the dancers when a hand caught my wrist briefly.

“You’re late,” one of the performers muttered without looking at me.

“I am sorry.”

She released me, already turning away.

I joined the line of dancers at the edge of the ballroom. The black silk mask pressed against my cheekbones. My hands would not stop shaking.

The room smelled of champagne, expensive cologne, and the wild scent that always rose when too many werewolves gathered together.

Chandeliers hung low as light fell across tuxedos and gowns.

The crowd roared when Desmond stepped onto the raised platform to be crowned as the new Alpha. Black tux opened at the collar, and silver pin on his lapel.

Kiara stood beside him in emerald silk, her hand resting on his arm.

“Look at them,” one of the dancers beside me whispered. “Perfect match.”

I forced myself to smile, then began to move with the others when the music started.

Slow tempo.

We flowed forward in a loose circle, hips swaying, arms lifting in the rehearsed steps.

I kept my head lowered at first so the mask hid my eyes. But I could not stop looking at him.

The music pulled us closer to the platform. I spun once. His gaze slid over me, then moved on.

“Next group, close the circle,” the choreographer called from the side.

We tightened the formation. I ended up directly in front of him.

Kiara stood at his side, emerald silk, fingers laced through his.

“Smile,” the dancer beside me hissed.

I did.

My jaw ached from how tight it was.

The music pulled us closer in a widening circle. My feet followed the steps automatically. Years of training meant my body could lie even when my thoughts wouldn’t shut up.

Don’t look at him.

Don’t look at him.

I looked anyway.

His gaze swept the room once, sharp and quick, then paused when it reached me. Just for a second.

My stomach dropped.

He didn’t recognize me. Of course he didn’t. The mask hid most of my face. The veil blurred the rest.

Still, my pulse jumped like I’d been caught doing something wrong.

The dancers shifted, and space opened. It was my turn.

I stepped forward, letting the music carry me closer. I spun, slow and deliberate, silk brushing my legs. The spotlight caught the edge of my mask.

I dropped low, knees bending, back arching, head tilting back so the mask caught the light. Then I rose slowly.

Desmond watched.

I hated how much that look still affected me.

I moved the way my father trained me. Close enough to be noticed. Far enough to be safe.

My hand skimmed the railing near his thigh. I didn’t touch him.

He exhaled through his nose. His jaw tightened.

Good.

His scent hit me harder, and the feeling I had tried to ignore flared low in my chest, making my pulse jump.

The moment I yearned to lean closer to him, I spun away from him and turned toward Kiara next.

She leaned forward slightly, curious, amused. Her eyes were bright, and happy.

Something sharp twisted low in my chest.

I dropped in front of her, rose slowly, close enough that the hem of my skirt brushed her knee.

She laughed under her breath. “You’re good,” she said quietly.

“Thank you, Luna.”

She reached for her champagne.

The vial was already in my palm.

Father’s voice echoed again: “She suspects us. If she lives, the alliance falls apart before you even start, and your failure will be public. The relic is bound to her life force through the mate bond—kill her quietly, sever the anchor, or the wards would be alerted and our whole pack would be burned to ashes.”

I tipped it in as the dancers shifted again, bodies blocking the view for half a second.

My heart shuddered for once at the thought of her dropping dead, but I didn't care. I would do anything to protect myself, my family and our pack from any danger.

I watched her as she lifted her glass, and took a sip. Then another.

I kept dancing.

Nineteen minutes.

Kiara placed her fingers on her temple.

“What’s wrong?” Desmond noticed immediately.

“Nothing…I’m sorry,” she said loud enough for the nearby tables to hear, still massaging her temples.

Desmond caught her hand. “You sure?”

“I’m fine. Just a headache. I’ll lie down for a bit. Join you upstairs soon, my love.”

“Alright.”

She kissed him quickly. “Enjoy the night, my love.”

She then slipped away through the side corridor that led to the private wing.

I waited five more minutes.

Then I moved.

The hallway to the penthouse suite was quiet. I spent weeks studying the floor plans so I knew the layout.

At the door to the private suite, Kiara’s assistant was helping her out of the emerald dress.

“Extra staff for tonight,” I said. “The event manager sent me up.”

The assistant looked at me, then at Kiara, who was swaying slightly, hand braced on the dresser.

“I’ll stay with her,” I said. “You’ve had a long night.”

Another second passed. Then the assistant nodded and stepped out. The door shut behind her with a soft click.

The lock slid into place.

Kiara exhaled slowly and lifted her head. “I really did enjoy the performance,” she said, still trying to get a better grasp of the table. “You were—”

Kiara turned, not recognizing me. “Who—”

I crossed the room in four steps.

My arm locked around her throat from behind before she could finish the sentence. I pulled her back hard, forearm pressing tight.

Her breath cut off in a sharp gasp.

She jerked hard. “Let—go—”

She clawed at my sleeve, nails scraping uselessly over silk.

“No—” she tried to say.

My hands wouldn’t stop shaking as it tried to locate the dagger under the waistband of my skirt.

My father’s voice surfaced in my head again: “Kill her first, or the relic will alert every wolf in the territory.”

I hated that voice. Hated how it still made my hands shake.

His voice surfaced again: Useless child! Weakling!

I swallowed hard. She was already dying.

Father had been secretly poisoning her for the past three weeks. I’d seen the signs: the headaches, the pallor, the way she leaned on furniture like the room was tilting.

He’d told me the night before: “She’s been selling pack secrets to the Hampton Pack for months. She’s dying anyway. Finish it quickly. Prove you’re not useless. Or your mother pays next.”

I saw my mum’s face, still believing I could keep her safe.

I couldn’t let her die because of my failure.

Kiara’s body thrashed harder on me. She was weakening fast as the poison had already done most of the work.

The dagger would be mercy compared to days of agony.

I drove the dagger through her ribs, straight to her heart, twisting it in and out.

I needed my father's validation more than anything I was feeling right now.

Kiara’s eyes widened in shock as her body thrashed. “W…h…..y???” she gasped as blood splurged from her mouth.