I bought myself a burial plot three days after being diagnosed with wolfsbane poisoning.

"Ms. Sophia, I'm sorry, but this poison is incurable. You only have seven days left."

The most renowned doctor in the pack told me, his voice heavy with regret.

After just a moment of shock, I accepted my fate with eerie calm.

"Could you keep this between us, for now?"

The doctor sighed and nodded. Just then, with a soft click, the door to the medical office swung open.

My husband, the tall and imposing Alpha Dane William, strode in with a thunderous expression.

"Did you seriously need to come to the hospital? Since when did you become so damn fragile over nothing?"

The "nothing" he referred to was his sister Flora Smith—a pharmaceutical researcher—using me as a guinea pig for her latest experimental poison, with his full permission.

"Look, Flora didn't mean it, and she gave you the antidote right away. Yet here you are, making a scene at the hospital. Are you trying to humiliate her? You've never been sickly before."

Dane's brow furrowed as he stared at me, utterly baffled by my behavior.

I'd always been the gentle, accommodating wife. No wonder he couldn't understand why I was standing my ground this time.

But he had no idea that Flora's little "experiment" had triggered the dormant wolfsbane poison in my system—causing it to spread throughout my body.

When I was eighteen, during the clan uprising, I took wolfsbane poison meant for Dane. My wolf spirit, Lucy, absorbed half the toxin to save me, sacrificing herself in the process.

I lost my wolf spirit forever.

I could no longer shift. Could no longer feel the pack bonds.

I became painfully, utterly human.

But Dane had conveniently forgotten all that.

I still remember Lucy's final words before she faded away: "Promise me you'll live well." Her voice breaking with tears.

But now, I was about to break that promise.

"Do you honestly believe she didn't do this deliberately?"

I tucked my trembling hands into my sleeves, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.

Perhaps it was because I'd never shown weakness in front of him before.

Dane's eyes narrowed, his expression darkening.

He cupped my face between his hands, his voice dropping to a concerned whisper. "Why are you so pale?"

Just then, Flora's voice floated in from the doorway. She peeked out from behind Dane, her eyes artfully rimmed with red.

"It's all my fault. I test these potions on myself all the time without issues. I was just so careless this time. I never meant to make my dear sister-in-law so ill."

Her eyes brimmed with tears, the tip of her nose flushed pink—the perfect picture of remorse.

"What did you just say?" Dane's expression hardened as he gripped Flora's wrist, his voice dropping dangerously low. "Testing on yourself? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

His Alpha aura filled the room, thick with rage. Flora's tears spilled down her cheeks as she whimpered, "I just wanted to help Grandma get better faster."

Dane's grandmother, Astrid, suffered from a rare disease that baffled even the best specialists. They could only manage her pain, not cure her.

As she finished speaking, Flora suddenly clutched her chest and crumpled to the floor with a pained gasp. In a flash, Dane scooped her into his arms, panic etched across his face.

"Someone get a doctor! Now!"

As he turned to rush out with her cradled against his chest, I grabbed his sleeve.

"You came here with me today. Remember, Dane?"

"Damn it, Sophia, can you stop being so stubborn? Flora's in serious condition right now."

His eyes flashed with reproach, but I held firm, my voice eerily calm. "But I'm dying, Dane."

"Christ, what kind of sick joke is that? You look perfectly fine." Dane's tone turned glacial. "Listen, Sophia, if you die, I'll die with you. Now let go."

My hands dropped limply to my sides.

I watched him rush away with Flora in his arms, not once looking back.

Too late, My Alpha — Chapter 8

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