The Alpha Tamed by a Femme Fatale

(Serena's POV)

When the silver knife went in, Miles's eyes went wide.

"You dare kill your own Mate! You'll die too!"

My answer was to shove the blade deeper, dragging him with me into the freezing lake.

How ridiculous. Three months ago we were still a loving couple.

"You deserve this!" I screamed. "Go keep my mother company in hell!"

"You're insane—" He choked on water, blood spilling from the corners of his mouth. "It was you—you crawled into the Alpha's bed yourself! Your mom died because you disgusted her!"

Even in death he was still smearing me as a cheater.

I pushed the knife in another inch.

A violent stab of pain shot through the Mate bond—his heart shattered. Eyes wide open.

Clara let out one final howl inside me.

I let go of the silver knife and sank toward the bottom with him.

Someone was shouting from the shore.

Heavy footsteps—only that man would run like that. He crashed into the lake like a cannonball, swimming toward me.

Alpha Dominic.

I'd never seen that expression on his face before—fear. Like he was losing his most precious treasure.

Laughable.

You destroyed everything I had. What are you afraid of now?

His mouth was moving, yelling something, but water had already covered my ears. I couldn't hear a thing.

Too late.

Three months ago, I still thought I was the luckiest woman in the world.

Miles was gentle, caring, never looked down on me for being half human. On our wedding day he held my hand and said, "Serena, I'll take care of you for the rest of my life."

I believed him.

So when he handed me that glass of wine laced with heartvine, I didn't even hesitate before drinking it.

What came after is fragmented—I only remember my body catching fire, burning from my lower belly outward, limbs going weak, instinct screaming to be loved, to be marked.

Then he delivered me to that man's bedroom.

The smell of alcohol mixed with his cedar scent. The instant he saw me, he pulled me in and kissed me deep.

"Daisy... you came back..."

He called that name. With devoted tenderness.

"I'm not Daisy!" I fought with everything I had. Kicked him, scratched him, nails dragging bloody lines down his face.

He didn't stop.

Clara cried out in agony inside me—she tried to resist, but the Alpha's pheromones crushed her limbs into nothing.

What made me want to die even more—my body betrayed me. Under the double effect of Alpha pheromones and heartvine, I came so hard I was squirting.

Pleasure so intense it was sickening. I bit through my lip and still couldn't hold back the sounds.

I hated my own body more than I hated him.

The next morning, Miles came to collect me.

His fingers gently touched the bite mark on the side of my neck—a temporary mark, teeth impressions so deep they'd turned purple. He cried. Buried his face in my shoulder, voice shaking.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry Serena, I had no choice. He's the Alpha. He asked for you by name—what was I supposed to do? But I promise—no one else will ever know. I'll protect you."

Clara snarled low inside me, but I looked at the mole beneath Miles's eye, looked at his trembling shoulders—and I believed him.

I told myself: as long as nobody knows, as long as Miles is still on my side, it's not that bad.

Two weeks later, Miles was promoted to Gamma's assistant.

That same day, I found messages on his phone—him fawning over Dominic's cousin. Love confessions dripping with flattery.

I lost control. Confronted him. Smashed his phone. He calmed me down, and the very next day—the entire Pack knew I'd been fucked by the Alpha.

Overnight, every pair of eyes looking at me changed.

"Disgusting half-blood, of course she can't behave. Betraying her Mate to be the Alpha's mistress!"

"Who would've guessed—that slut!"

"Her poor husband."

Walking through the Pack neighborhood, someone spat at me.

My car was covered in red spray paint overnight. "BITCH" across the hood in letters big as a sign.

When I asked Miles for a divorce, he laughed until tears came out: "Baby, you think this is your little human world where you sign a paper and it's done? Let me tell you—as long as I refuse, you're a servant to me and my family forever!"

Mom came to see me on a Saturday—she'd been calling for three days and I never picked up. On the fourth day she came in person. When I opened the door I froze.

"Mom..."

She didn't ask anything. Just pulled me into a tight hug.

"Mom's taking you home."

I instinctively blocked the doorway—Margaret had taken the best bedroom, Brianna's makeup covered the bathroom counter, and my things had been shoved into the storage room.

"Mom," I forced a smile, "let's go to the grocery store first and grab some food before we leave."

Mom was picking out yogurt, turning to ask me "did this brand change its packaging?"—

Margaret's voice came from the far end of the aisle.

"Well, well. Isn't that the human?"

She wasn't alone. Three or four middle-aged women trailed behind her, their eyes landing on my mother with the excitement of watching a show.

I rushed forward to block them, but her voice was loud enough to echo through the entire store—

"Your daughter is a born whore! Ditching her own Mate to crawl into the Alpha's bed—are you just as cheap? Mother and daughter, both sluts!"

Mom's face went white. Within seconds—heart attack. She collapsed unconscious to the floor.

I dove to catch her: "Mom!"

Margaret stepped back, her expression shifting from cruel to panicked for just one second—then she grabbed the woman beside her and turned toward the exit.

Nobody helped me. I called the ambulance with shaking hands.

But Mom never got treatment.

I went to ask every twenty minutes. Every time the same answer: "No beds available. Please continue waiting."

The way the nurses looked at me—disgusted, scornful, you-deserve-this.

At two a.m., Mom stopped breathing.

I didn't even get to say one last word to her.

What happened after that is blurry.

Maybe three days later. Maybe five. I took the silver knife I'd bought on the black market and went to find Miles.

He lay on a lounge chair by the lake, holding a woman in only a bikini in his arms. He raised an eyebrow at me openly, no hint of hiding anything, and said, “What do you want?”

I stared at him: "It was planned from the very beginning, wasn't it? Sending me to the Alpha's bed. Getting promoted. Then dumping me."

Miles looked at me the way you'd look at a pet that finally learned to speak. Corners of his mouth curving slightly.

"So what if it was? I really hated that attitude of yours—acting like your money meant I had to worship you. Now look at you. A cheating whore who's been used by the Alpha. Where exactly do you think you can go?"

"Was it planned from the start?" I asked again.

He smiled. A real, cruel smile.

"What else is a half-blood like you good for?"

Next second, I killed him.

If the Moon Goddess was watching—she should cheer for me. Applaud.

I thought death was the ending.

But the suffocation vanished.

Like someone yanked me out of the water.

"Cough cough!"

Violent coughing. My hands braced on a marble countertop. Water—no, there was no water. My clothes were dry. Floor beneath my feet.

Clara let out a low, hate-filled snarl.

"Stop spacing out. We're alive!"

I straightened up. Saw the mirror.

The woman in the mirror had delicate features, honey-gold skin flushed from the coughing. Neck clean.

No bite mark. No branding-iron teeth marks of a temporary bond.

I looked at the watch on my wrist—February 14th. PM 9:47. Mating Ball.

The night everything began.

I stared at those eyes in the mirror.

No longer soft, gentle, trying so hard to please everyone.

Those eyes were cold.

Cold as the water at the bottom of a lake.

Moon Goddess—you really did cheer for me. This time, everything will be different.

A knock on the bathroom door.

"Serena?" Miles's voice from outside, warm and concerned. "Are you in there? Feeling sick? The ball's about to start, we should go in."

I forced myself to smile—like I'd never been betrayed. Sweet, obedient, harmless.

I would keep smiling like this while I sent him and everyone who'd hurt me and my mother straight to their graves.

My voice came out of my throat so sweet it made even me want to gag.

"Coming."