The Dying Alpha's Unexpected Fated Mate

Carina POV:

The heavy oak door swung open without a knock, the sound jarring me from the grim spiral of my thoughts. A stern-faced woman in a severe gray dress stood in the doorway. Mrs. Gable, the matron of Kensington Pack, her expression frozen in disdain.

Her cold gray eyes swept over me, "The wedding ceremony was moved up." she announced, her voice as sharp and cold as splintered ice. "It will be tonight."

"Tonight?" I questioned, my voice steady, betraying none of the panic churning inside me.

"Lady Cristen, a highly influential figure in the Kensington pack, has made a decision," Mrs. Gable snapped, "She insisted on this ceremonial wedding. The Alpha heir's condition is deteriorating. We can't wait until the full moon."

A ritual marriage to a dying man I'd never met. A "blessed Omega" from the backwater Greywater Marshes, meant to appease the Moon Goddess and save the eldest son of the great Kensington pack, Jasper Kensington.

What a load of crap. In my past life as a doctor, I knew this was just a desperate, superstitious gamble.

I glanced at the barred window. My parents, Hale and Helene Moran, were somewhere in this manor, effectively prisoners. My father-a bastard son of a wolf pack Alpha-traded his daughter for a chance at the Alpha King's recognition.

"Why the sudden change?" I pressed, not out of hope, but to gather information. Every piece of data was a potential weapon.

Mrs. Gable's lips curled upward in contempt. "Miss Kaila Carter, the original intended, has fallen into a complete coma. Her replacement must be offered up quickly."

Kaila Carter. My cousin. The one who was supposed to marry the dying Alpha. A coma? How convenient.She would not die for anyone, let alone sacrifice her future for a dying man. It sounded like a trick.

"I need to see my parents before the ceremony," I stated, testing the limits of my confinement.

Mrs. Gable laughed, a short, barking sound. "You are a sacrifice, girl. You have no rights here. You will go where you are told."

She gestured to two guards who had appeared behind her. Their faces were grim, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords.

A surge of primal fear shot through me, the Omega genetics in this body screaming to submit. My heart hammered against my ribs. I fought it down with cold, clinical logic. Fear was a useless emotion.

My only weapon was the knowledge in my head. They saw a worthless Omega from the marshes. They had no idea who I really am. My goal was The Rejection, the formal severing of a Mate-bond. But the ritual required both parties to agree, and it caused soul-tearing pain. To get him to agree, he had to be alive and willing.

"Fine," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. I stood up, smoothing down my simple dress.

My apparent compliance surprised Mrs. Gable. She expected tears, pleading. I gave her nothing.

"Get her ready," she commanded the maids who scurried in behind the guards, carrying a white ceremonial gown on a wooden hanger.

As the maids approached, I held up a hand. "I will dress myself."

My calm authority momentarily threw them off. They looked to Mrs. Gable for guidance.

She glared at me, annoyed by this small act of defiance, but ultimately waved a dismissive hand. "Be quick about it. The carriage is waiting."

She turned and left, the guards taking up positions outside my door. The lock clicked shut with a definitive thud.

I was left alone with the gown. It was beautiful, intricate lace and silk, a stark contrast to my grim fate. A dress for a lamb being led to slaughter.

I didn't look at it. My mind was already working, formulating a plan. Kaila's "coma" was my first variable. I needed to see her.

They thought they were leading a lamb to slaughter. But this lamb had teeth.

I began to change, my movements precise and unhurried. The first step was to survive tonight. The second was to turn this cage into my operating theater.

Carina POV:

I stepped out of the room, now clad in the ridiculously ornate ceremonial gown. The guards immediately flanked me, their presence an oppressive weight on either side.

Mrs. Gable was waiting in the corridor, tapping her foot impatiently. Her eyes raked over me again, this time with a flicker of something that might have been satisfaction at seeing me in the sacrificial attire.

"This way," she barked, turning on her heel without waiting for a response.

We walked down a long, dimly lit hallway. Portraits of stern-faced Kensingtons watched me from the walls, their painted eyes seeming to follow my every step, judging me.

As we passed a service corridor, I saw a small, terrified face peek out. Holly Hayes, my maid. Her face was pale with anxiety, her brown eyes wide with fear for me. She was a timid Omega girl, a distant relative of my mother's, and my only ally in this gilded prison. Her loyalty was her defining feature.

I gave a subtle, almost imperceptible shake of my head, warning her not to do anything foolish.

Mrs. Gable noticed my brief pause. "Keep moving," she snapped, shoving me lightly between the shoulder blades.

The physical contact was jarring. I stumbled but caught myself, my jaw tightening. The insult was a small, sharp stone I tucked away in my mind. I would remember it.

We reached the grand entrance of the manor. The massive doors were open, revealing a dark carriage drawn by two black horses. The air was cold, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth.

"My attendant," I said, my voice firm. "Holly. She comes with me."

Mrs. Gable scoffed. "You're in no position to make demands."

"The ritual requires a virgin attendant to present the bride," I lied smoothly,This is what I just managed to come up with. "It's to ensure the purity of the offering to the Goddess. Surely Lady Cristen wouldn't want to risk the ritual's efficacy over something so trivial?"

My lie was based on their own superstitious nonsense. It was a gamble that their fear of a failed ritual outweighed their desire to control me.

Mrs. Gable hesitated. Her face contorted with suspicion and annoyance, but the mention of the ritual's efficacy struck a nerve.

"Is this true?" she asked one of the guards, who just shrugged, clueless.

The uncertainty was enough. She didn't want to be the one responsible if the ritual failed because of a missing detail.

"Fine," she ground out. "Fetch the girl. But she rides on the outside with the driver."

"She must be with me to prepare me," I countered, pushing my advantage. "That is her purpose."

After a tense moment, Mrs. Gable gave a frustrated sigh and nodded curtly. Holly was quickly brought forward, trembling.

I was pushed towards the carriage. Before I could get in, the carriage lurched violently, a wheel dipping into a deep, freshly made rut in the gravel.

My head connected sharply with the low roof of the carriage door. I hissed in pain, feeling a trickle of warmth on my forehead. My fingers came away sticky with a trace of blood. I looked back and saw a smirk on the driver's face. This was no accident.

I was shoved inside. Holly scrambled in after me, her eyes filled with tears as she saw the cut on my forehead.

The carriage door slammed shut, plunging us into near darkness.

"My Lady, you're hurt!" Holly whispered, fumbling for a handkerchief.

"I'm fine, Holly," I whispered back, my voice urgent. "Listen to me very carefully. I don't have much time."

I grabbed her hands, stilling their trembling. "I need you to do something for me. It's very important."

She looked at me, her fear warring with her loyalty. She understood loyalty, if not strategy. That was enough.

I leaned in close, the carriage rattling as it started to move, and began to give her my instructions in a low, urgent whisper.

Carina POV:

The carriage ride was tense and silent after I finished my instructions. Holly just nodded, her face pale but determined. I could only hope she had the courage to follow through.

Suddenly, I clutched my stomach and let out a soft groan, letting my body go limp against the worn velvet seat.

"My lady?" Holly asked, her voice filled with practiced concern. She was a better actor than I expected.

"The bump..." I whispered, pressing a hand to my forehead where the cut was. "I feel... dizzy. Sick."

I began to breathe shallowly, my eyes fluttering. It was a classic presentation of a mild concussion, something they wouldn't understand but whose symptoms were undeniable.

The carriage soon lurched to a stop, not at a ceremonial site, but back at the manor's entrance. Mrs. Gable yanked the door open, her face a thundercloud.

"What is this now?" she demanded, seeing my pale face and the blood on my forehead.

"She's unwell, ma'am," Holly said timidly. "The blow to her head..."

"If the sacrifice is damaged before the ritual, the offering is tainted," I murmured, my voice weak but clear. I was weaponizing their own beliefs against them. "The Goddess will be angered."

Mrs. Gable's face shifted from fury to fear. A failed ceremony would be a disaster, and the blame would fall directly on Lady Cristen. And then, by extension, on herself.

"I need to rest for a moment," I said. "And... I wish to see my cousin, Kaila. To pray for her, and for myself. It will please the Goddess."

The request was audacious, but I'd framed it in the language of piety and ritual. It was a difficult request to refuse without seeming impious.

After a tense standoff, Mrs. Gable relented. "Five minutes. Then you go to the Alpha, conscious or not."

Victory. A small, cold spark in the darkness. I was led through the manor again, this time to a lavish bedroom on the main floor. I could hear faint, pained moans from within as we approached.

I entered the room. Kaila Carter was lying in the center of a massive bed, her blonde hair splayed out on the pillow. A doctor and her mother, Lady Eleanor Carter, were fussing over her.

"Cousin," I whispered, walking to the bedside, my expression one of deep sorrow.

As I leaned over her, ostensibly to smooth her hair, I discreetly pressed my fingers against the artery in her neck. Her pulse was thready, but her skin was clammy. My eyes scanned her face. A faint bluish tint to her lips. Dilated pupils. I smelled it then, a faint, almost undetectable trace of a plant I knew as deep bog nightshade. A paralytic toxin.

She'd poisoned herself to get out of the wedding. A dangerous, stupid gambit.

"I will pray for her," I announced to the room.

I took her hand in mine. As I did, my thumb pressed down hard on a specific nerve cluster at her wrist. It was a technique to induce intense, temporary pain without leaving a mark.

Kaila's body instantly arched off the bed with a strangled cry, her eyes flying open in pure agony before rolling back in her head.

The room erupted into chaos. "What did you do?" Lady Eleanor shrieked at me.

"I did nothing!" I said, my face a mask of shock and horror. "I was just praying! It must be the Goddess's judgment!"

While everyone was distracted by Kaila's convulsions, I used the opportunity to brush my fingers, now coated with a residue from Kaila's own skin, against the inner lining of the carriage driver's glove, which Holly had deftly stolen and passed to me earlier. I dropped the glove back into Holly's waiting hand unnoticed.

"Her condition has worsened!" the doctor shouted. "She's having convulsions!"

Mrs. Gable grabbed my arm, her face white with panic. "Get her out of here! Get her to the carriage! Now!"

I was dragged from the room, leaving a scene of medical pandemonium behind me.My revenge worked perfectly.

As I was shoved back into the carriage, the vehicle gave a sudden, violent jolt, far worse than before. I was thrown against the wall, and I heard a sickening crack from one of the axle supports.

The sabotage was obvious. Someone was trying to stop me from reaching the Alpha heir.