Reborn: I Chose the Hidden Alpha

The blood moon hung overhead like an open wound against the night sky.

I pulled my shawl closer, unable to shake the chill that had nothing to do with the temperature.

Something was wrong with tonight's moon—it seemed to pulse with malevolent energy, turning the familiar grounds of Silvermoon Estate into a twisted landscape of shadows and crimson light.

"Sera." Dashiell's voice was warm honey in the darkness. "You're safe with me. You know that, right?"

I turned toward him, my anxiety melting away like it always did when he was near.

For the past year, Dashiell had been my anchor, my protector, my everything. The way he looked at me—like I was the only thing that mattered in his world—had become as essential to me as breathing.

"Marcus should be here by now," I said, scanning the treeline. "He promised he'd meet us."

"He'll show." Something flickered across Dashiell's face, but it was gone before I could read it.

The bushes exploded.

A massive wolf burst from the undergrowth, all black fur and gleaming fangs. Marcus—but not Marcus. This creature was twice his normal size, eyes burning red as the moon above, every trace of humanity stripped away.

I screamed and stumbled backward, my heel catching on a root. The ground rushed up to meet me as claws raked across my cheek, leaving fire in their wake.

The pain was nothing compared to the terror. This was Marcus—my friend, my sister's mate. Why was he looking at me like I was prey?

"Dashiell!" His name tore from my throat. "Help me!"

I heard his footsteps. Relief flooded through me even as Marcus's weight pinned me to the forest floor. Dashiell would save me. He always saved me.

But the footsteps stopped.

"Dashiell?" I twisted around, confusion replacing relief.

He stood just out of reach, hands casually tucked in his pockets, watching Marcus hold me down like he was observing mildly interesting theater. The blood moon painted his face in shades of red, and for the first time, I didn't recognize the man I loved.

"Why would I do that?" His voice was conversational, almost bored.

The words hit me like a physical blow. "What are you talking about? Dashiell, it's me—help me!"

His smile was beautiful and terrible. "I know exactly who you are, Sera."

Footsteps whispered through the grass. Another figure stepped into the moonlight, and my world shattered completely.

Vivienne. My stepsister.

She moved to Dashiell's side with fluid grace, sliding her arm through his like she belonged there. Like she'd always belonged there.

"Thank you, sister dear," Vivienne said, her voice sweet as poisoned wine. "You made such a perfect little spy. All those family secrets you shared with your beloved Dashiell—they've been incredibly useful."

"No." The word came out broken. "That's not—Vivienne, what are you saying? Dashiell loves me."

Vivienne's laughter was like breaking glass. "Did you hear that, darling? She still thinks you love her."

Dashiell looked down at me with eyes like winter. "Love you? Christ, Sera, did you actually believe I could love someone so pathetically desperate for affection?"

Each word was a knife between my ribs. A year of whispered promises, stolen kisses, nights when he'd held me like I was precious—all of it lies.

"Vivienne and I have been planning this for years," he continued, his tone matter-of-fact. "Help her take control of the pack, and I become Head Warrior. You were just the key to get inside. And keys, once they've served their purpose..." He shrugged.

"Why?" The word scraped my throat raw.

"Because you made it so easy," Vivienne said, triumph bright in her voice. "A few sweet words, some pretty promises, and you told him everything. The ward locations, the pack's weaknesses, even Father's private strategies. You really are remarkably stupid."

The truth crashed over me like ice water. For an entire year, I'd been living in a fantasy. Every moment of happiness had been carefully orchestrated. Every declaration of love had been a calculated lie.

Marcus's claws descended again. This time, I didn't try to move.

What was the point? The physical pain was nothing compared to the agony of knowing I'd destroyed my own family. That I'd handed them the weapons to tear apart everything I was supposed to protect.

Blood spread beneath me, warm and sticky. My vision blurred at the edges, but I could still hear them—Vivienne and Dashiell, laughing together like they were sharing the world's best joke.

If I could do it over, I thought as rage burned through the pain, I'd make you pay. I'd make you all pay.

Marcus's fangs found my throat. Blood sprayed across the moonlit ground.

But instead of darkness, I felt something else—a pull, deep and ancient, like the moon itself was listening to my fury.

If there was any power in this world that could give me another chance, I'd take it. Whatever the cost.

I would make them feel every ounce of pain they'd given me tonight.

The blood moon pulsed brighter as consciousness slipped away.

Just before the darkness claimed me, I heard a voice like distant thunder:

"As you wish."