Claimed by My Ex's Father, the Alpha King

Enola POV:

"Drink it all, cousin," my cousin, Colette George, whispered, tilting the silver vial against my cracked lips. Archer Reynolds-my husband and the newly crowned Alpha King of Eldoria-stood behind her with one arm wrapped intimately around her waist.

The liquid burned like liquid fire down my throat.

It was Wolfsbane, distilled to its blackest potency, paralyzing my nervous system from the inside out. My fingers twitched against the damp flagstones of the royal dungeon, but my arms refused to lift. Deep in my chest, my inner wolf clawed in agony, suffocating beneath the chemical rot before going completely silent.

I forced my head up through the blinding pain and glared at them. "You fucking traitors! You've been screwing each other behind my back all along!"

Colette's expression sharpened. "Watch your tongue. I am the Alpha King's Luna and the Queen of this realm. How dare you speak to me that way?" Then she giggled, pressing her cheek against Archer's crimson cloak. "Look at her, Archer. She looks like a gutted deer."

Archer Reynolds, once the Prince of Eldoria and now its Alpha King, stepped forward. His polished riding boots came to a halt inches from my face. He did not kneel. He merely looked down at me, his icy blue eyes stripped of every ounce of false warmth he had performed since our childhood.

"Stop struggling, Enola," Archer said, his voice flat and detached. "It only makes you look pathetic. You should be grateful we gave you a painless death."

I forced air past my frozen vocal cords, my vision blurring at the edges.

"My... father..." I rasped.

"Your father is dead," Colette said sweetly, stepping around Archer so I could see the victory shining in her pale eyes. "Your mother too. And your loud-mouthed brothers. Lord Carlisle was kind enough to deliver the forged letters of treason directly to the Elders this morning. The Hanson Pack was wiped out before noon. Not a single stone stands in Northwind Castle."

A violent spasm locked my jaw. My heart pounded so hard against my ribs it felt ready to tear through my flesh.

My entire family.

My parents. Felix. Rocco. Dead because of a stack of forged papers.

"Why?" I choked out, a thin trickle of blood escaping the corner of my mouth. "We gave you... everything."

Archer scoffed, resting an arrogant hand on the silver hilt of his rapier.

"You gave me soldiers, Enola. That was all you were ever good for. Did you really think I would seat a plain, unbonded female beside me on the Silvermoon Throne? If it weren't for your pack's northern garrisons, you wouldn't even have been fit to warm my bed."

He turned, pulling Colette hard against his chest.

Before my dying eyes, Archer buried one hand in Colette's blonde hair and kissed her. His tongue forced its way between her lips while his other hand slid down her body and closed over her ass through the thin silk, grinding her against him. Colette let out a breathless moan and arched into his touch, making certain I saw every obscene movement.

I clenched my teeth until blood filled my mouth. My eyes burned red, and endless hatred surged through me, hotter than the Wolfsbane devouring my veins. He had never once claimed me with such hunger in all the years I had loved him.

Colette pulled back slightly, panting, her painted lips curving into a venomous smile aimed straight at me.

"Everything you had is mine now, cousin," she murmured, pulling a small perfume flask from her silk bodice.

She tipped the glass, splashing a sickly-sweet peony scent over my trembling shoulders.

"Archer will mark me before the entire court at the Winter Solstice. Then every pack in Eldoria will kneel and acknowledge me as their Luna Queen. And your name will be remembered only as a traitor's daughter who died of shame in the dark."

"Come, Colette," Archer muttered, grabbing her elbow with clear impatience. "Don't waste another second on a corpse. The High Council awaits my victory report."

They turned toward the heavy oak door.

The heavy iron hinges groaned as the guards pushed the dungeon barrier shut. The latch slammed down with the finality of a guillotine.

Darkness flooded the cell, absolute and freezing.

I lay in my own filth, the poison freezing my veins until my lungs could no longer expand. The cold stone pressed hard against my cheek.

Archer Reynolds.

Colette George.

The names branded themselves into my soul with white-hot iron.

If the Moon Goddess has any justice left in the heavens, I prayed into the choking dark, my fingernails scraping bloody grooves into the stone, send me back. Give me one more life. Give me one breath beneath the sun.

My heartbeat stuttered, slowed, and began to snap like a dry twig. With the last shred of strength in my dying body, I carved one final vow into my soul.

If I ever draw breath again, I will tear Archer Reynolds from his stolen throne, make Colette George choke on the crown she stole from me, and drown every last soul who slaughtered my family in their own blood!