Revenge of the Rebirthed Female Alpha

The smoke was so saturated in the air that I could taste it. That, added to the soot and blood in my mouth, made me feel like throwing up. My eyes were hazy from looking upwards at the Sun for too long. I didn’t care about making eye contact with the person I was talking to. I just refused to bow to this traitor. His bloody hands tugged my chin upwards, his body in front of my face, providing temporary relief from the harsh sunlight. “Alana, darling.” The angle of the sun formed a halo around him, his face partially hidden but his smile remained as clear as day—a smile that could rival any villain’s. “Don’t look at me like that. This had to be done.” Every inch of me wished to hurl insults at him, make him feel a fraction of the mental damage I experienced as I felt my pack members fall in hoards. But I couldn’t. My tongue lay on the ground a few feet away, lost in the dirt, blood, and ashes. All that could come out of my mouth were pathetic groans and cries. “What? Cat caught your tongue?” he taunted. “Oh, wait…I did that.” I felt like a fool. After priding myself on my position as the Alpha of the Paladin pack, I ended up kneeling before another wolf without Alpha blood, defeated. It was safe to say that I felt like the biggest fool on Earth. To think that my own mate would ambush us and decimate my entire pack under the cover of night when no amount of rallying or fighting would have saved us from the thousands upon thousands of warriors he had brought along. After he killed his own Alpha and welcomed rouges into his pack, I had thought we would be safe from the onslaught that followed afterward. Max had gone on a rampage, annihilating all packs that refused to bow to the Stryder pack. Although I knew what he was doing was absurd, and downright barbaric, I turned a blind eye, using the excuse of my pack’s failing finances as a cover. Did I expect everything to end with all my pack members torn from limb to limb or burned alive while I watched helplessly with silver digging into my body? No. The average wolf wouldn’t hurt his mate. I had forgotten about Max’s extreme inferiority complex, which made him want to be better than everyone else at all costs. “I know you must be feeling foolish but there was no way you could have known about me. All I had to do was slip a number or five into your pack’s financial records and kiss you afterward and all your worries would melt away.” He bent down to my height, pushing my hair behind my ear with a wistful smile. I gnashed my teeth together to prevent myself from recoiling. I refused to give him the satisfaction. “You really are beautiful. Even with your hair all messed up. It’s a pity it had to be like this. I can’t have you living when you could threaten my kingdom.” As my hair swished back to my face because of its short length, his eyes narrowed as if accusing me of such a hairstyle choice. “I wish you had grown out our hair like your sister did. Perhaps I could have picked you instead.” The mention of my twin sister, Lena had me tugging on my chains with renewed vigor. Perhaps through a stroke of luck, I would rip out of my chains and claw his eyes out. However, the silver in the metal burned through my wrist, warning me that any more squirming would inevitably slice them clean off. But I couldn’t stop. Lena was the only family I had left. “Hngh.” His grin grew as he finally got a reaction from me. “I had been wondering what it would take to make you squirm. I mean, you didn’t yell too much when flames were consuming your mother. So, it’s your sister…I’m glad I thought of taking her.” Let her go. Let her go, you bastard, I screamed in mind link. My battered wolf stirred for a moment in my mind and relapsed into silence, too weak to pass along my message. He pressed his lips behind my ear, sighing as he breathed in my scent. “Whatever I do, I just can’t get you out of my head. I have to pry you out, even if it means killing you.” He tugged down his collar to show me the mark resting proudly on his neck. The mark of another female. “It’s the only way I could keep this without needing to tear it out of my skin. Your sister would be horrified by that.” My sister would be… The miniscule amount of air struggling its way into my throat hitched. He marked her. The bastard marked my sister. He had taken my sister and marked her as if she were his mate, eliminating her chances of happiness. How could he ruin my family, just because of the possibility of me fighting against him? Something I was certain would have never come to pass. As I tugged on my wrist chains helplessly, he closed the distance between our lips, his tongue digging forcefully into my throat and stealing the last semblance of dignity I had. Without the obstruction of my tongue and my hands behind my back, I could hardly resist. But even then, I could feel the mating bond working its magic between us, forcing us to enjoy the moment regardless of the situation. Behind my eyes flashed memories of all our kisses, our hidden touches when we were in public, his gentle caresses when we were in private—all those memories that were becoming tainted by the second. If I had known all of those gazes of love were false and would culminate to this point, I would have resisted from the very beginning, rejecting him before he had the chance to hurt me. A stray tear slid down my cheek. I only had myself to blame. I should have taken note of the red flags and all his snide comments thrown towards his Alpha. I shouldn’t have attributed all his hate and lust to teenage angst. His insistence that we put our mating on hold for two years should have made me think twice. All I did, the whole time we were together, was wait like a lamb for his weekly visits. He was supposed to visit that afternoon so I had gone to sleep early to prepare for him. Pain exploded in my stomach. I let out a strangled sound into his mouth. He moaned before finally pulling away, my blood dripping steadily from his lips. Immediately, I spat out blood, panting and trying to force it to rush into my lungs. “Don’t bother, you’ll be dead within a minute or two,” he said, unlocking my chains gently with an anguished look on his face. After I was free, he laid me on my back, and only then did I see something digging out of my body—a familiar dagger with a golden glint I had spent weeks carving with my own hands for a love that wasn’t even real. “Fitting, isn’t it? I kill you with a dagger you gifted me.” My eyes closed, another stray tear trailing down my face. He held my face with such familiar gentleness. Even on the verge of death and my mind clouded over with hatred, I still felt every cell in my body responding to his warmth. “My love, don’t cry. Do you want another kiss?” I trusted you. I loved you. How could you do this to me? I screamed words only I could hear for the minute that my life with my family and this man—this man I loved more than life and hated even more—was flashing behind my eyes. I heard a wail of sorrow as I breathed my last, the smoke wafting from my burned-down packhouse in the background. Max Stryder. If I ever got another chance, you would die by my hands.