Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother - Chapter 263

Chapter 263: Chapter 263
Valerie’s POV

He’s dying.

I can see it. The way his chest heaves. Shallow. Uneven. Like every breath might be his last.

Damien fucking Nightshadow. The great Alpha. The untouchable king. Lying in the dirt like common trash.

Beautiful.

God, it’s beautiful.

“Is it working?” Voss asks. His voice rough. Excited. Almost giddy.

“It’s working.” I can’t stop smiling. My face actually hurts from it. “Look at him. He can barely move.”

We’d spent years on this. Years hiding like rats in abandoned buildings. Eating scraps. Living like the rogues we’d become.

But it was worth it.

Every miserable moment was worth this.

The wolfsbane we’d perfected. Not the regular kind that just weakened wolves. This was different. Special. Lethal.

We’d tested it on homeless wolves. The ones nobody would miss. Street dwellers. Rogues without packs.

The first few batches killed too fast. No suffering. No pain. Just quick death.

That wasn’t what I wanted.

I wanted him to feel it. To know he was dying. To have time to think about everything he’d done. Everyone he’d hurt.

Everyone he’d rejected.

So we refined it. Made it slower. More agonizing.

One scratch—just one—would be enough.

And Voss had given him more than one.

Damien’s trying to stand. His legs won’t cooperate. They buckle. He collapses. Again.

Blood everywhere. His blood. That pure Alpha blood that’s supposed to make him invincible. That’s supposed to make him better than everyone else.

Turns out even Alphas bleed.

Even gods fall.

“How long?” Voss circles him. Like a predator. Watching his prey suffer. “How much longer?”

“Minutes.” I move closer. Careful though. Even dying, Damien’s dangerous. “Maybe less. Depends on how much got into his system.”

But looking at him now—at the way he’s convulsing, the foam at his mouth—I’d say we got plenty in there.

Damien’s eyes find mine. Those silver-blue eyes. The ones that used to make my heart race when I was young and stupid. The ones I’d dreamed about for years.

The ones that never looked at me the way they looked at her.

Now they’re just angry. Accusing. Like I’m the villain in this story.

Like he has any right to judge me.

“You had everything,” I continue. My voice getting louder. Years of rage pouring out. “Everything I wanted. Everything I deserved.”

“The power. The pack. The respect. The perfect fucking life.”

I’m yelling now. Don’t care who hears.

“And you chose her.” The words taste like ash. Like poison. “That omega bitch who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.”

“Sera—” He starts to say her name. Like she’s precious. Like she matters.

“Don’t.” I crouch down. Just out of reach. Close enough to see his pupils dilate. To smell his fear. “Don’t you dare say her name like she matters. Like she’s special.”

“She’s nothing.” Spit flies from my mouth. “Nothing but a whore who got lucky. Who spread her legs at the right time and trapped you with bastard children.”

His hand moves. Reaching for me. Trying to defend her even now.

Pathetic.

It falls before it gets close. No strength left. Just weakness.

“You could’ve had me,” I whisper. Leaning closer. Making sure he hears every word. “We could’ve been perfect together. I would’ve given you everything. Been everything you needed.”

I would have. God, I would have worshipped him. Given him heirs. Been the perfect Luna his pack deserved.

But no.

“You chose her.” My nails dig into my palms. Hard enough to draw blood. To match his. “You chose that omega trash over me.”

“Every. Single. Time.”

The memories flood back. Uninvited. Unwanted.

Watching them together at pack meetings. The way he touched her. Protected her. Looked at her like she was the only person in the room.

Watching her parade around like she belonged. Like she deserved the title of Luna. Like she hadn’t stolen it from someone more worthy.

From me.

“So yeah.” I stand up. Brush off my pants. “This is why.”

“This is what happens when you reject someone like me. When you choose wrong. When you throw away something precious for trash.”

Damien’s breathing gets worse. More labored. His body starting to convulse again.

Harder this time. More violent.

The poison working through his system. Attacking his nervous system. Shutting down organs one by one.

Slowly. Painfully. Exactly how we designed it.

“It’s almost over,” Voss says. He sounds disappointed. “I thought an Alpha would last longer.”

“Maybe he’s not as strong as everyone thinks.” I watch Damien’s chest rise and fall. Rise and fall. Each breath weaker than the last. “Maybe he’s just another wolf playing dress-up.”

The convulsions stop. Suddenly. Completely.

His body goes still.

Too still.

“Check him,” I order. My voice shaking slightly. Not from fear. From excitement.

This is it. This is really it.

Voss approaches. Cautious. He’s seen too many wounded enemies play dead before.

But Damien’s not playing.

Voss kneels. Presses fingers to Damien’s throat. Waits.

“Well?” My heart’s pounding. Adrenaline and excitement mixing. “Is he dead?”

“No pulse.” Voss checks again. Thorough. “No breathing. Nothing.”

“He’s gone.”

Dead.

Damien Nightshadow is dead.

The reality hits like a physical force. Like a punch to the gut. We did it. We actually did it.

The most powerful Alpha on the East Coast. The man everyone feared. The king who seemed untouchable.

Gone. Just like that.

I wait for the triumph to come. The satisfaction. The vindication of years of planning and suffering.

But there’s just… nothing.

This hollow feeling in my chest. This emptiness where something should be.

Not regret. Never regret. Just… is this it? Is this all there is?

“We should leave him here.” Voss stands. Wipes his hands on his pants. Like Damien’s death is nothing. Like we didn’t just change everything. “Let him rot. Let the animals have him.”

I stare down at the body. At what used to be the man I obsessed over for years. The man I thought I loved. The man I thought would save me. Complete me. Make me whole.

Now just meat. Cooling in the dirt. Becoming nothing.

And still—still—I feel empty.

“What a waste,” I mutter. Not sure if I’m talking about him or me.

“What?” Voss looks over.

“Nothing.” I shake my head. Clear my thoughts. Focus.

This isn’t over yet. Damien was just the first step. The opening move.

There’s still Sera. Still those brats she calls children. Still an entire pack to destroy.

And suddenly—suddenly I know exactly how to do it.

“No,” I say. My voice stronger now. Clearer.

Voss turns. “What?”

“We take him.” The plan forms as I speak. Pieces clicking into place. “Back to our camp.”

“Why?” He looks confused. “He’s dead. We won. Why drag a corpse around?”

“Because she’ll come for him.” I meet Voss’s eyes. See the moment he understands. “Seraphina. She’ll come looking.”

“That bitch loves him,” I continue. The words taste bitter but true. “She’ll tear apart the forest to find his body. To bring him home. To bury him with honors he doesn’t deserve.”

“And when she does—” Voss’s smile spreads. Predatory. Hungry.

“We’ll be waiting,” I finish.

“Exactly.” My mind races ahead. Planning. Plotting. “She’ll come alone. Or with minimal guard. Too desperate to be careful. Too grief-stricken to think straight.”

“That’s when we take her.” I kick Damien’s leg. Hard. No response. No reaction. Just dead weight. “Kill her. Slowly. Make her suffer for everything she took from us.”

From me.

“And the children?” Voss asks.

“Will be orphans.” I shrug. “Easy to control. Easy to use. Or easy to dispose of if they’re too much trouble.”

“You’re cruel.” But Voss is smiling. “I like it.”

“I learned from the best.” I gesture at Damien’s corpse. “Come on. Let’s move him before someone finds us.”

Before anyone realizes what we’ve done.

Voss grabs Damien’s arms. I take the legs. The body’s heavy. Dead weight.

The phrase makes me want to laugh. But I don’t. Can’t waste energy.

We lift. Start dragging him toward the trees. Toward our camp hidden deeper in the forest.

My muscles strain. Sweat beads on my forehead despite the cold. But I don’t complain. Don’t stop.

This is worth it. All of it.

All those years of humiliation. Of being second choice. Second thought. Second everything.

All those years watching Sera get handed everything I wanted. Everything I’d worked for. Everything I deserved.

The perfect mate. The perfect life. The perfect fucking fairy tale.

Well, fairy tales end. And hers just did.

We make it about ten feet. Maybe less. Hard to tell in the dark.

Then I hear it.

A sound.

Soft at first. Almost imperceptible. Like wind through leaves or branches shifting.

Coming from the bushes to our left. Maybe twenty feet away.