Banish Me I'm Reclaiming My Alpha Throne!

"Sign it, Lena." Alpha Richard Whitfield slid the exile order across the heavy oak table.

The harsh scraping of paper against wood echoed like a death knell in the silent council hall. I didn't move. My gaze drifted past him, landing on the leather sofa opposite us.

Lily had her face buried deep in Marcus's chest. Her shoulders shook violently as she sobbed, gasping for air. "Marcus, this is all my fault... I shouldn't have touched those files.

Now Lena is paying the price. What are we going to do?" Marcus, my boyfriend of five years and the Beta of our pack, was comforting her.

Right now, he was rubbing Lily's back with a tenderness I had never seen him show me. Then, he looked up.

The warmth vanished from his eyes, replaced by a cold, condescending glare. "Lena, stop making a scene. Lily didn't do it on purpose. She’s only twentytwo.

She didn't know any better." Alpha Whitfield tapped the table, his deep voice dripping with menace. "Lena, you are the Head of Patrol.

The intel leaked from the border you were guarding. Three of our warriors are critically injured.

The entire Crimson Pack demands justice." "Her father is Alpha Thomas Hart of the Silver Creek Pack," Marcus chimed in, his tone dripping with fake concern. "Our pack's supplies for the next winter rely entirely on their trade routes.

Lena, just think of the pack..." "Shut up," Alpha Whitfield snapped at Marcus, who instantly closed his mouth.

The Alpha turned back to me, his voice softening slightly, though his tone remained absolute. "Lena, you’ve served this pack for five years. I’ve treated you well.

If you resign quietly today, I will make sure you get a generous severance. A graceful exit is best for everyone." Looking at the three of them, I suddenly laughed.

I laughed so hard tears almost came to my eyes. Memories of my past life sliced through my mind like a rusty blade. The exact same words. The exact same betrayal.

In my first life, I had screamed and cried like a lunatic. I swore on my wolf that I hadn't leaked the intel.

I begged them to look at the security footage, but Alpha Whitfield claimed the cameras had "conveniently" malfunctioned.

I had grabbed Marcus's hands, begging him to believe me, but he had coldly shoved me away. He had stood before the entire pack and labeled me a traitorous thief.

They forced me to take the fall. Shortly after, Alpha Whitfield banished me from the territory. Branded as a traitor, I had nowhere to go.

On a freezing, rainy night, hounded by rogues, I threw myself off a cliff. The sickening crack of my bones shattering against the rocks—I could still feel that agony in my marrow.

And what about them? Lily’s trade routes secured the pack’s future. Marcus and Whitfield climbed to power over my dead body.

Marcus even became the designated heir to the Silver Creek Pack. But the Moon Goddess had given me a second chance.

I was right back at the moment of signing. "Lena..." Lily peeked out from Marcus's arms, her eyes red and teary, but I caught the mocking triumph hidden in her gaze. "Can you ever forgive me?" My laughter faded.

I looked at the three of them as if they were already dead. "Sure." I reached out, grabbed the pen, and popped the cap off.

Marcus blinked, clearly surprised by how compliant I was being today. Relief washed over his face. "Lena, I knew you’d understand. Don't worry.

Once this storm blows over, I’ll—" Scritch. Scratch. With two sharp strokes, I signed "Lena Shaw" across the exile order. The nib dug so deep it nearly tore the paper.

Lily’s fake sobbing stopped instantly. Her eyes widened in shock.

I flicked the signed order right into Alpha Whitfield’s face. "What do you think you're doing?!" Alpha Whitfield roared.

Ignoring him, I reached into my canvas bag, pulled out another preprepared document, and slammed it onto the table. "Look closely.

This is my official resignation." I leaned over the table, hands planted on the wood, looking down at the three cowards. "You don't get to exile me. I quit. And as for the charge?

I'll take it." With that, I turned toward the heavy double doors of the council hall. "Lena!

Watch your attitude!" Alpha Whitfield bellowed behind me. "Do you have any idea what leaving the pack means? You will be a rogue! No pack will ever take you in!

You won't survive a week out there!" I gripped the brass doorknob, not bothering to look back. "Save that warning for your own gravestone."

The moment I pushed the doors open, I slammed into a solid chest. A strange, intoxicating scent flooded my senses. Pine, leather, and something primal and dark.

It sent a shiver straight down my spine. I took a halfstep back and looked up. The man standing before me was tall, broadshouldered, and wore a black tactical jacket.

One of his hands was shoved casually in his pocket, while the other played with a matte black Zippo lighter.

His facial features were strikingly sharp, his jawline like carved granite. His dark eyes held a dangerous, knowing smirk. Ethan Blackwood. The Alpha of the Iron Crest Pack.

The very man Alpha Whitfield had been desperately trying to kiss up to. And the "stolen" intel? It was the defense map of Ethan's own territory.

The Iron Crest Pack and the Crimson Pack shared a border, so sharing intel was standard. But the moment my eyes met his, my chest throbbed.

A primal, deepseated vibration echoed from the depths of my soul. My inner wolf began to pace, whimpering in recognition. Mate. I saw his pupils dilate.

His fingers tightened around the Zippo. A flash of possessiveness, raw and hungry, flared in his dark eyes. "Lena," he murmured, his voice low and rich.

He had clearly been standing outside, listening to the entire thing. I stared back at him, refusing to back down. "Enjoying the show, Alpha Blackwood?

If you want more, there are still three clowns performing inside." Ethan raised an eyebrow.

The Zippo spun through his fingers and clicked shut. "You do realize," he said, stepping closer, his towering height forcing me to tilt my head, "the intel you just took the fall for belongs to my pack’s joint defense line?" "I do," I replied, meeting his gaze with equal fire. "Which is why I'm warning you, Alpha Blackwood—this pack is rotting from the inside out.

Your alliance with them is worthless." Ethan let out a low chuckle, his chest rumbling. He leaned down, his warm breath brushing against my ear. "Oh?

And what if I aligned with you instead?" "You'd get a guaranteed return on your investment," I whispered back without hesitation. He straightened up, his eyes searching mine.

Then, he slipped a folded piece of paper from his inner pocket and held it out between his long fingers. "I’ll be looking forward to it." I took the paper, my fingers brushing against the back of his hand.

His eyes darkened. Before he could react, I turned and walked toward the outer gates of the pack house.

Behind me, the council doors burst open, and Alpha Whitfield’s oily, eager voice rang out. "Ah, Alpha Blackwood! You're here!

Please, come in, come in..." I sneered and kept walking back to my apartment. They had given me three days to pack.

In my past life, I spent those three days crying, begging the pack elders to save me, looking like a beaten dog. In this life?

Three days was more than enough to plan their execution.

I locked my apartment door and pulled out the metal lockbox hidden under my bed. Inside were all the secrets I had gathered over five years of risking my life on the borders.

The contact info, weaknesses, and dirty secrets of every neighboring Alpha, along with every blind spot on our patrol routes.

I pulled out my phone and dialed the first number. "Alpha Lambert. It’s Lena." A deep voice answered. "Lena?

Why are you calling me on this line?" "I've been banished," I said smoothly. "What?!" Alpha Lambert gasped. "Is Whitfield insane?

You're the strongest Delta warrior they have!" "Just a difference of opinion," I replied, getting straight to the point. "I need to borrow some of your men.

In exchange, I will give you a secure trade route that bypasses the Silver Creek Pack's blockade." Silence stretched over the line. "Lena, do you know what you're asking?" Lambert murmured. "Lending warriors to a rogue?

If word gets out, my alliance with the Crimson Pack is dead." "Whitfield won't be sitting on that throne for much longer," I said coldly. "I can guarantee you that." Another pause. "What kind of guarantee?" "My name," I said. "I took three silver bullets for your men on the border.

You owe me two lives. I’m not asking you to pay me back.

I'm asking you to trust me." The silence lasted for almost a minute. "...Three men," Lambert finally sighed. "I can give you three retired veterans.

They aren't on my official roster. No one will notice if they go missing for a few months. Is that enough?" "More than enough.

Thank you, Alpha Lambert." I hung up and immediately dialed the next number. "Alpha Davidson. About that disputed hunting ground...

I know a hidden trail that bypasses the Silver Creek patrols. I'll trade the map for two of your fighters..." I spent the entire morning making calls.

My phone grew hot against my ear. I had spent five years building my reputation through blood and sweat.

That kind of loyalty and respect couldn't be wiped away by a corrupt Alpha, a golddigging Beta, and a spoiled little wolf.

By noon, five neighboring Alphas had agreed to lend me fighters. Thirteen seasoned warriors in total.

Combined with the fifteen elite fighters I already had within the Crimson Pack, I had a strike force of nearly thirty. Phase one: complete.

In the afternoon, I walked over to the pack’s barracks.

The recreation room of the barracks was loud and filled with the smell of cheap energy drinks. A few younger wolves were playing video games.

George, a scarred veteran, was yelling at a recruit. "That was a dogshit formation! Is that new girl, Lily, braindead?

She almost led our entire patrol straight into a Silver Creek ambush yesterday! I had to drag you idiots out myself!" When he saw me enter, George froze.

He waved the recruit away and walked over. "Lena? What happened?

I heard Whitfield called you into the hall." I walked to the center of the room and clapped my hands. "Listen up, everyone." The fifteen elite warriors looked at each other, putting down their controllers and phones, and gathered around me.

I scanned the room, making sure there were no spies, then spoke plainly. "I'm leaving." The room erupted. "Lena, what the hell?!" George yelled. "Is this about the leaked intel?

We all know that little bitch Lily did it! Why are you taking the blame?" "Exactly! Is Whitfield blind?

You're our captain!" "If you leave, who's going to lead us?" Looking at these fiercely loyal warriors, a wave of warmth rushed through me.

In my past life, after I died, George was the only one who risked his life to find my body. He was executed by Whitfield for protesting my exile.

I raised my hand, silencing them. "I didn't come here to complain," I said, my voice dropping to a low whisper as I looked at each of them. "You all know how Whitfield took the Alpha seat.

My father's death wasn't an accident." The air in the room instantly turned to ice.

The older warriors exchanged grim looks. "Being exiled is actually a good thing," I continued. "I can move freely on the outside.

When I'm ready, I am coming back to take this pack." I stared into George's eyes. "George, when that day comes, I need you beside me.

Not as a captain—but standing right behind me when I reclaim the throne." George’s throat bobbed. "Lena... are you saying..." "I'm going to overthrow him," I said, every word dripping with cold steel. "I’m taking back what belonged to my father.

Anyone who wants in, pack your bags. Meet me outside the territory within three days. If you don't, forget I was ever here." Silence. Ten agonizing seconds of silence.

Suddenly, George slammed his fist on the table, making the soda cans jump. "Hell yes! I've been sick of serving that coward Whitfield anyway! Lena, I’m with you!" "Count me in!

I'm packing my gear right now!" "Me too! This pack is dead anyway!" Every single one of them. All fifteen elite fighters chose to follow me.

A dark, cold smile spread across my face. Alpha Whitfield, Marcus... you thought you could banish me and live happily ever after with your little princess? You have no idea what kind of storm is coming for you.