The Alpha Beyond the Border

It had been Delon’s idea—every calculated step of it.

Disappear before the ceremony. Leave Finn shattered and then strike when despair makes an Alpha careless.

They had planned it perfectly and it worked.

She would vanish two days before the ceremony, leaving behind the letter Delon himself had forged. Finn would spiral beyond control. His guards would loosen. His instincts would dull.

And Delon would kill him. A clean blade in a quiet coup. A grieving pack desperate for stability.

But they never anticipated the Moon Goddess.

“She wasn’t supposed to be mated to him,” Delilah hissed suddenly, crushing the cup in her hand. Wine spilled down her fingers like blood. “She was nothing. A healer. A shadow for ten years.”

Delon grabbed her wrist, steadying her. “Calm yourself.”

“Don’t tell me to calm myself,” she snapped. “That bond almost ruined everything.”

It had forced her hand. She had returned not out of desperation—but strategy.

The kidnapping story. The denial of the letter. The slow poison of suspicion.

And the fool fell for it. Finn had always trusted her tears more than truth.

“And he swallowed it,” Delon said, satisfaction creeping into his voice. “Every word.”

Delilah laughed softly. “Of course he did. Finn wants to be lied to.”

She pulled her hand free and turned toward the window, gazing out at the moonlit pack territory she intended to rule.

“I needed him to turn on her,” she continued calmly. “To reject her. To break the bond himself.”

“And you succeeded,” Delon said. “She’s gone.”

“Yes,” Delilah replied. “But not dead.” That part gnawed at her.

“She can't survive the border,” Delon said, his jaw tightening. “And even if she manages to, my assassins won't fail.”

“I hope you didn't sent weakly to do the job, ” she snapped. “Or someone else won't interfered?.”

A silence fell between them.

Delon’s eyes darkened. “She won’t survive, trust me on this.”

“What about the exiled brother,” Delilah said slowly. “The rogue Alpha.”

The name tasted dangerous." Nothing for now!" Delon replied. 

“Even if she lives,” Delilah continued, turning back to Delon, “she is still a loose end. And fate has a habit of resurrecting things it refuses to bury.”

Delon studied her carefully. “Then we move to the next phase.”

Her smile returned—slow, sharp, lethal.

“Yes,” she said. “Now we let Finn grieve. Let the pack fracture. Let doubt rot the throne from within.”

“And when he is weakest?” Delon asked.

Delilah stepped into his arms, her voice a whisper against his ear.

“Then we finish what the Moon Goddess interrupted.”

She pulled back, eyes gleaming with ambition and cruelty.

“The Alpha will fall,” she said. “And this pack will kneel—to us.”

Delon smiles, pecks her forehead, straightens up, and then walks out of the room with a practiced stern face.

"Fools!" Her smile turned lethal, "Men are fools! One is a weakling, and the other, an inexperienced two faced bastard!" She clenched her fist. "

---- FLASHBACK

Delilah had never meant to eavesdrop.

She had been searching for Delon—drawn by habit, and familiarity —when she heard his voice through the half-open door of the his own antechamber.

She slowed. Then stopped.

“…you will have a Luna from your bloodline,” Delon was saying, his tone smooth, confident. “I swear it.”

Delilah’s breath hitched.

Elder Rowan chuckled softly. “You speak too boldly for a Beta.”

“I am not planning to remain one,” Delon replied.

Delilah’s fingers curled slowly at her sides.

Rowan leaned back in his chair. “My daughter has waited long enough. I will help you unseat Finn, and support your claim to the throne. But as you promise, you must mate her. You will crown her Luna.”

Delon laughed quietly. “Done.”

The word sliced through Delilah like a blade.

Her chest tightened—not with heartbreak, but disbelief.

This was their grand plan, but he is trying to defraud at at the end if it?

“I will deal with Finn,” Delon continued. “He’s weak to be my alpha. Too emotional and easy to manipulate.”

“And Delilah?” Rowan asked casually. “What of her?”

Delilah leaned closer to the wall, every sense sharpening.

Delon didn’t hesitate. “She’s not a problem,” he said flatly.

Rowan raised a brow. “You’ve been fond of her.”

“Fondness is temporary,” Delon replied. “Power is not.” Delilah’s vision blurred.

“And how do you intend to dispose of her once you ascend?” Rowan asked.

Delon’s voice lowered, almost bored.

“I’ll poison her,” he said. “Slowly. Make it look like an illness. By the time anyone notices, she’ll be too weak to fight back.”

Something in Delilah snapped.

Her claws bit into her palms as rage flooded her veins. For one reckless second, she nearly burst into the room—ready to tear out his throat, to expose everything.

But she didn’t. She forced herself to breathe. Forced her face smooth. And walked away silently.

That night, Delilah stared at her reflection until dawn.

If he wanted to use her— She would let him think he is smart. But she would make sure he never lived long enough to try.

End Of Flashback....

“What made you think you will share in my glory?" She picks the other cup and with a little effort, it shatters in her hands. "When your usefulness to me is complete, you will be like this!" She smirks at the broken cup.

She would erase Finn first.

Then Delon. And when the throne was finally hers—No one would ever betray her again.

-----

SOUTHERN REGION - KNOX-SHADE PACK

I woke to warmth.

Not the fevered heat of pain or the burning agony left behind by rejection—but something steady. Controlled and protective.

For a moment, I thought I had died.

The air smelled different here—pine and smoke, leather and steel. Alpha. Strong enough to make my wolf stir for the first time since the bond was ripped from my chest.

I tried to move. A sharp ache flared through my ribs, and I hissed softly.

“Don’t.” The voice was deep. Calm. Commanding without effort.

My eyes fluttered open.

I lay on a wide bed layered with furs, the fire crackling softly nearby. The chamber was carved from stone and wood, rugged and unmistakably masculine. Weapons lined one wall. Maps and sigils marked another.

And standing near the hearth— Him.

Attractive to a fault. A little scar beneth his eye spoke of battles survived, not avoided. His dark hair fell loose around his shoulders, his golden eyes fixed on me with an intensity that stole the breath from my lungs.

Alpha. No—more than that.

“Where am I?” I whispered.

“ The Southern region. And Alive,” he replied. Then, after a pause, “Which is more than you were an hour from being.”

I swallowed. “You saved me.”

“Yes.” There was no pride in his voice. Just fact.

Memories rushed back—the border, the cold, the pain, the glowing eyes in the dark. An Alpha who smells like a rogue? The southern region?.

“You’re the rogue Alpha,” I said.

His jaw tightened almost but softly at once “That is what they call me.”

He crossed the room in two long strides and crouched beside the bed. Close enough now that I could see the faint scars along his jaw, the old rage sleeping behind his gaze.

“You were rejected, i assumed” he said quietly. “Violently.”

My fingers curled into the furs. “Yes.”

“And banished,” he continued. “Illegally.”

That made my chest tighten.

“You know our laws.”

“I wrote some of them,” he replied.

The only person who wrote most of the Nightclaw’s law was alpha knox. Finn’s exiled older brother.

Wait a minute... My eyes widened. “You’re—” My voice caught. “You’re Finn’s brother.”

His gaze sharpened. “Knox.” The name landed heavy between us.

Exiled Alpha. Rogue king.