The Alpha’s Game

The accident happened on our way to Yellowstone.

When the RV flipped off the cliff, I thought it was the end.

But when I opened my eyes, we weren't in a hospital.

We were in a strange, cold space filled with damp mist.

A massive holographic screen floated before us, displaying a blood-red countdown.

A cold, mechanical voice—perhaps some higher-dimensional deity—announced the rules:

Welcome to the Werewolf World's "Rebirth Trial."

You are already dead. However, complete the mission, and you shall be reborn.

Mission Objective: Conquer the Cursed Alpha, Killian.

Conditions: Obtain his "Token of the Blood Oath." Raise Killian's favorability to 100%.

Reward: Resurrection for the entire family.

Failure: Your souls will be torn apart, damned for eternity.

The entire game was being livestreamed to the Divine Realm.

The deity granted us special communicators, allowing us to see the real-time barrage of comments from the "audience."

"Killian? That madman?"

Someone in the chat gasped.

"This is Hell Mode."

"This Alpha has been betrayed by everyone since he was a pup. His own mother tried to strangle him, his Mate rejected him, and even his best friend stabbed him in the back. He’s nothing but an emotionless killing machine now."

It sounded terrifying, but we had no retreat.

The System opened the identity selection interface.

Everyone started with 10 initial points.

Cousin Chloe, a drama student at Yale, was the first to step up.

She spent all her points to purchase a specific "Memory Fragment" of Killian’s.

The screen displayed a bloody wolf boy collapsed in the snow.

A girl in a white dress approached him, seemingly offering food and water.

The chat started scrolling fast:

"That has to be Killian’s 'White Moonlight,' right? The only person who helped him when he was just a Rogue."

"Rumor has it that after he became the strongest Alpha and slaughtered the entire Dark Valley Pack, he was looking for this girl."

Chloe’s eyes lit up.

She flipped her blonde hair and looked at us confidently.

"This is an easy win. I’ll play the role of the 'Savior.' A feral dog starved for love like him? He’ll eat this up."

I stared at the gloomy boy on the screen, feeling something was off.

"Chloe, wait," I grabbed her arm. "This doesn't add up."

"If we are the seventh batch, that means six batches failed before us. If the 'Savior' card was such an easy win, why hasn't anyone succeeded?"

Chloe patted my head, dismissing my worries.

"Trust me, I'm a pro. I have to win this for the family."

"As soon as I get that Token, we’re all saved. Just wait to call me Luna."

Before I could argue, she locked in her identity and stepped into the portal.

Grandpa Mike, seeing this, quickly selected an identity and followed her in.

Soon, the livestream turned on.

Chloe, dressed in the exact white dress from the memory, appeared at the edge of Killian’s territory.

The Alpha, rumored to be tyrannical and bloodthirsty, paused.

When he caught the scent Chloe had synthetically forged, the feral rage in his scarlet eyes instantly faded.

The System notifications went wild:

[Killian’s Favorability has skyrocketed to 95%!]

Good news even came from Grandpa Mike’s side.

Because he took a knife for Killian, he was immediately promoted to a trusted confidant.

The remaining elders in the family hugged each other, weeping tears of joy, thinking we were going home.

But the unease in my heart grew like weeds.

That night, we glued ourselves to the screen.

We watched Killian take Chloe back to his castle.

He even settled her in the room closest to his own.

Everyone assumed that during tomorrow's Full Moon Ceremony, Killian would claim Chloe as his Mate, hit 100% favorability, and hand over the Token.

I sent Chloe a message on the communicator: "Chloe, be careful. Don't push too hard."

She didn't reply.

Dawn broke. The livestream flickered on again.

But I didn't see a wedding.

I saw a slaughterhouse.

It was hell on earth.

Cousin Mike, who had been so high-spirited yesterday, now had his head mounted on a spike on the castle walls.

His eyes were wide open in death.

And Chloe...

She was locked inside a massive cage made of pure silver—kryptonite to werewolves.

Merely touching the bars caused her skin to blister and rot.

She wasn't dead yet, but she wasn't far from it.

She was naked, her body covered in deep lacerations and bite marks.

Surrounding the cage was a pack of red-eyed Rogues and Berserkers.

They were playing with her like a dying mouse, occasionally reaching through the bars to slash her skin, leaving wounds deep enough to see bone.

"Ugh..."

My mom couldn't handle the sight and fainted.

I retched, my stomach churning violently.

In the chat, the divine spectators finally dropped their masks, revealing their cruelty:

"Hahahaha! I knew it! Did this idiot really think she had the 'Sweet Romance' script?"

"Someone educate the newbies so they know why they're dying."

"That girl in the memory did 'save' Killian, sure. But she treated him like a pet!"

"She fed him moldy dog food, chained him up, hooked up with other men right in front of him, and mocked him for being a stray cur. Killian wants to tear her into a million pieces!"

"And this woman dared to impersonate that bitch? She’s literally tap-dancing on the Alpha’s landmine."

On the screen, that tall, terrifying Alpha—Killian—stood there holding a glass of red wine.

He looked indifferently at the carnage in the cage.

Chloe, face covered in blood, wept and begged:

"Killian... I'm your savior... How could you do this to me..."

Killian set down his glass and walked to the bars.

His voice was low and raspy, possessing a heavy metallic quality, like an echo from the abyss:

"Savior? Heh."

He suddenly reached in and choked Chloe, his claws piercing her skin.

"She had that exact same expression when she looked at me like I was trash."

"You aren't her. But you dared to use that memory to manipulate me."

"You reek of hypocrisy and calculation."

"Since you want to be the 'Savior,' enjoy the 'gift' I prepared for her."

He released her, then coldly gave the order to the agitated, feral wolves surrounding the cage:

"She's yours. Make it last."

The screen went black.

At the same moment, my communicator vibrated.

It was the last message from Chloe.

Just one word.

Carrying the stench of despair and blood:

"RUN!!!"