Tag: Substitute Bride

  • Bride by Chance novel by Delight Write

    Bride by Chance novel by Delight Write

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    On the day of her arranged wedding, Isabella Torres flees the altar, desperate to escape a loveless union her influential family is forcing upon her. Rumors say her groom, the powerful CEO of a multinational empire is a cruel, arrogant man with no capacity for love.

    Running through the streets in her bridal gown, Isabella throws herself into the car of a man she believes is a simple driver. In truth, he is Sebastián Alvarez, the very CEO she is running from abandoned at his own wedding only hours earlier. Hiding behind his second name, Sebastián listens as Isabella curses the man she believes destroyed her life. Instead of revealing the truth, he makes her a startling offer.

    Their scandalous union ignites outrage among both families. Enemies whisper, plots unfold, and secrets deepen. Isabella struggles to reconcile the tender, protective man she is falling for with the arrogant CEO she swore she would never love. Sebastián, torn between pride and passion, must prove his heart before his hidden identity destroys their fragile bond.

    In a world of betrayal, deception, and burning desire, their marriage of convenience becomes a dangerous game of love and destiny. What began as an accident may turn into the greatest love story of their lives.

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    Bride by Chance novel Chapter 1

    It was her wedding day.

    The Torres house was filled with noise and frenzy. The smell of stew drifted from the kitchen, neighbors spilled into the compound, and borrowed plastic chairs clattered against one another as boys arranged them under the tent. From the outside, it looked like a celebration. From the inside, it felt like a prison.

    Isabella stood in her tiny bedroom, pressed against the wall as if the plaster itself might open and swallow her whole. Her chest rose and fell with frantic breaths, and the wedding gown which was a stiff lace and heavy satin felt more like a shroud than a dress. Her fingers itched to tear it off, but there was no time.

    Her father’s voice thundered from the living room.

    “Where is she? Bring her out! The priest has been waiting for hours!”

    Her mother’s sharp reply followed. “Isabella! Enough foolishness. Do you know what this marriage means for us?”

    Yes, she knew. It meant money. It meant her father’s debts would be wiped clean, her brothers would return to school, her mother would finally have respect in the neighborhood. It meant her freedom, her dreams, her life traded like goods in the market.

    For a man she had never seen.

    Sebastián Álvarez. His name carried weight like a curse. The CEO of Velasco Holdings, rumored to be older, proud, untouchable. Some said he had ruined men with a flick of his wrist. Others said he was cold as steel, incapable of kindness. To Isabella, it didn’t matter what the rumors said. He could be kind or cruel, young or old. The truth was the same: he wasn’t her choice.

    The doorknob rattled, her mother’s hand beating against the wood. “Isabella, open this door!”

    Her heart slammed against her ribs. If she didn’t move now, they would drag her out and force her to the altar like a goat tied for sacrifice.

    Her decision was made.

    She grabbed her small backpack, already hidden beneath the bed stuffed with nothing more than a water bottle, an old sweater, and a little money she had managed to save. With shaking hands, she shoved the window open. The wooden frame groaned in protest. The lace veil snagged on a nail and ripped, but she didn’t care.

    The cold morning air slapped her face as she pushed herself through. Her bare feet hit the earth.

    “Isabella!” her mother screamed as the door burst open behind her.

    But Isabella was already running.

    The gown tangled around her legs, her veil caught on a branch, her knees burned as she stumbled over stones. Still, she didn’t stop. She ran past children pointing and laughing, past neighbors gasping at the sight of a bride fleeing through the street. The sound of voices rose behind her-shouts, calls, curses.

    “Catch her!”

    “Don’t let her go!”

    But Isabella’s fear was stronger than their reach. She tore through alleys, her lungs aching, her throat raw, her vision blurred with tears.

    She didn’t know how long she ran, only that her legs screamed in protest and her body felt close to collapsing. She turned onto a wide avenue, and cars roared past, horns blaring as she darted across recklessly.

    Then she saw a sleek black car, parked at the corner with the engine humming softly.

    Without thinking, she yanked the back door open and flung herself inside. The smell of leather and cologne filled her nose. She slammed the door shut behind her, heart hammering.

    “Please!” she gasped, clutching the seat. “Drive. Just-just drive!”

    The man in the front seat turned his head.

    For a moment, Isabella froze. He wasn’t what she expected. Not scruffy, not ordinary. His suit was immaculate despite the loosened tie, his watch gleamed, and his eyes-dark, unreadable-stared at her in stunned silence. Too polished, too perfect to be just a driver.

    But desperation drowned her suspicion.

    “I’ll pay you,” she blurted, her voice trembling. “Any amount. Just take me far away from here. Please.”

    He didn’t answer immediately. His gaze swept over her-her wild eyes, the torn veil, the trembling hands clutching the gown. Something flickered in his expression, but it was gone before she could name it.

    “I…” he started to speak but stopped almost immediately.

    At last, without a word, he shifted the gear and pulled the car away from the curb.

    Relief flooded her body, and she sagged against the seat. The dress pooled around her like stormclouds, heavy and suffocating. For the first time that morning, she felt a breath of freedom.

    But his voice cut through the silence. Low, calm, steady. “Who are you running from?”

    Her laugh came out bitter, and broken.

    “My family. They want to marry me off. Today-right now-I was supposed to be Sebastián Álvarez’s bride.” She spat the name like poison. “They say he’s arrogant, merciless. I’d rather die than marry him.”

    His fingers tightened slightly around the wheel. Still, he said nothing.

    Isabella turned her face toward the window, tears streaking her cheeks.

    “Men like him think they can buy everything. Wives. Loyalty. Even love. But no money in this world can buy me.”

    The car was silent except for the hum of the engine. She wiped her eyes and glanced at him again, uneasy with his quietness.

    Bride by Chance novel Chapter 2

    The hum of the car was the only sound for a long while. Isabella sat stiff in the backseat, her fingers twisting the veil that had torn during her escape. At first, relief had washed over her. She had gotten away. She was free. But now, staring out at the streets flashing past, the truth dawned on her.

    She had nowhere to go.

    No relative she could run to, no friend bold enough to hide her. If her parents caught her, they would drag her back, bind her wrists if they had to, and throw her before the priest.

    Her throat tightened. Slowly, she leaned forward. “Gabriel?”

    His eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. Calm, unreadable.

    “Where are you taking me?” she asked, her voice trembling.

    The question made her blood run cold. She hadn’t thought this through. She had jumped into a stranger’s car without a plan. Now her hands shook with the weight of that mistake.

    “Anywhere you want, ma’am,” he said, calmly.

    Her voice broke as she begged, “Please… take me to the cheapest hotel. Somewhere far from here. Somewhere they won’t think to look for me.”

    He gave a small nod, not asking further questions. Relief loosened her chest, though it was short-lived.

    As the car turned, Isabella studied him again. The way his suit sat perfectly on broad shoulders, the way his hands gripped the wheel with quiet control. He didn’t look like any Bolt driver she’d ever seen.

    “You know,” she said softly, “you look too good to be a driver.”

    For the first time since she met him, his lips curved. Not a full smile, but close.

    “Thank you for the compliment.”

    She blinked, surprised at his answer. Most men she knew would have laughed or boasted. But before she could say more, he added, almost casually, “My bride abandoned me this morning. Left me standing at the altar.”

    Her jaw dropped. “What?”

    The corner of his mouth twitched again. “Hard to believe, I know.”

    Isabella let out an incredulous laugh. “Impossible. What kind of foolish girl would abandon a hardworking, decent man like you?”

    He didn’t reply, but his eyes flicked toward her briefly, as if weighing her words.

    “I mean it,” she went on, indignant. “That girl is blind, ungrateful. She deserves… she deserves someone like that arrogant CEO they wanted to force me on. Sebastián Álvarez. That kind of man should marry selfish, brainless girls like her.”

    The silence in the car thickened, but Isabella didn’t notice. She shook her head with fire in her eyes. “If I had a man like you, kind enough to help a stranger, responsible enough to keep his word, I would never run. Never.”

    He said nothing, though his grip tightened on the wheel.

    Minutes later, he slowed the car and pulled over in front of a run-down hotel, its neon sign flickering weakly in the dusk. Isabella sighed in relief.

    “How much?” she asked, fumbling with her backpack.

    His eyes met hers in the mirror. “Ten thousand dollars.”

    Her mouth fell open. “What?!”

    His face was unreadable. “That’s the fare.”

    “That’s outrageous!” she burst out. “Even if I saved for five years, I wouldn’t have that kind of money! I was planning to look for a job, not rob a bank.”

    He didn’t flinch. “That’s the price.”

    She threw her hands up, frustration spilling over. “What kind of driver are you? You think because I’m in a wedding dress I have money hidden somewhere?”

    This time he turned to face her fully. And in that moment, Isabella froze.

    She saw him clearly for the first time-tall, strikingly handsome, with sharp cheekbones and a mouth curved in a way that could almost be called charming. His eyes held hers with a calm intensity that made her heartbeat stutter.

    And then he said it.

    “Marry me.”

    Her breath caught. She almost choked on the air. “What?”

    “Marry me,” he repeated, his voice even, steady.

    She blinked, stunned. Then anger flared hot. “Are you sick, Gabriel? Did you hit your head this morning? You can’t just-just-”

    He didn’t interrupt. He only waited, as if her outburst meant nothing.

    “You told me your bride left you, and I’m not that bride,” she said.

    “And you ran away from your husband. So marry me instead,” Gabriel replied.

    Her laugh was sharp, disbelieving. “Never. Do you hear me? Never!”

    The click of the locks echoed around the car. Isabella’s stomach dropped as she realized he had closed all the doors. Her pulse skyrocketed.

    “What are you doing?” she whispered, panic lacing her voice.

    He turned the key, the engine growling to life again. “If you won’t marry me, I’ll return you to your family.”

    “No!” she cried, leaning forward, grabbing at his arm. “Please don’t take me back there. Please!”

    “Then marry me.” His tone was calm, almost casual, but his eyes burned with something she couldn’t name.

    Tears welled in her eyes. “Gabriel, this is insane. We don’t even know each other!”

    His jaw set. The car rolled forward, turning back toward the main road.

    “Stop!” she sobbed. “Stop, I’ll do it! I’ll marry you-but on one condition.”

    His eyes flicked to her, curious.

    She swallowed hard. “It will be a contract marriage. Nothing real. Just an agreement between us.”

    The car slowed again, his expression unreadable.

    “Contract marriage,” he repeated slowly, as if tasting the words.

    She nodded, tears streaking down her face. “Yes. That’s the only way.”

    He watched her in silence for a long moment. Then his lips curved into that faint, disarming smile again.

    “Deal.”

    Bride by Chance novel Chapter 3

    Gabriel started the car and drive for what seems like hours. Finally, the car rolled to a stop on the quiet road, the hum of the engine fading into silence. Isabella glanced up, confusion tightening her chest. They were nowhere near the hotel now.

    “Why are we stopping?” she asked, wary.

    Gabriel’s eyes flicked to her, calm and steady. “We’re going to a church.”

    Her throat tightened. “A church? Why?”

    “Because we’re getting married today…you accepted to be my wife, right?” His voice was firm, no hesitation.

    Her mouth fell open. “So fast? You can’t be serious!”

    He turned slightly in his seat, his expression unreadable. “I want this done before my family ties me to another woman. Another arrangement I have no intention of honoring. You want freedom, Isabella. So do I. This is how we get it.”

    Her heart pounded. Everything about this was wrong, reckless, insane-but she was cornered. Slowly, she drew in a breath, gathering what little courage she had.

    “Fine. But if we’re doing this, then I have rules.”

    His brow arched, amused. “Rules?”

    “Yes.” Her chin lifted, though her voice shook. “No sex. We won’t stay together. We live our lives separately. Do you understand?”

    For the first time, he laughed-low, deep, almost mocking. “I never planned to have sex with you anyway.”

    The ease of his answer stunned her. He didn’t look embarrassed or offended, just amused, as though her declaration had been childish. Isabella’s cheeks burned, but she crossed her arms, determined not to show weakness.

    Before she could retort, he reached for his phone. She watched as he dialed a number, his tone shifting into something sharp and commanding.

    “Prepare the chapel,” he said. “I am getting married and I want the papers ready. We’ll be there within the hour. And no one is to know. Not a soul.”

    The voice on the other end seemed to protest, but his response cut like a blade. “Do as I say.” And with that, he ended the call abruptly.

    Isabella blinked, startled. The authority in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. Too sharp. Too arrogant.

    “Too arrogant for a poor man,” she muttered under her breath before she could stop herself.

    His head turned sharply. “What did you say?”

    Her heart leapt into her throat. “I-I said you sound… too caring for a stranger. That’s all.” She forced a weak smile.

    He didn’t look convinced, but after a moment, he returned his eyes to the road, the car gliding smoothly forward. Isabella exhaled, pressing her hands together to keep them from trembling.

    Minutes later, the car pulled into the courtyard of a small, dimly lit church. The building was old, its white paint peeling, its bell tower leaning slightly as though burdened by secrets. Isabella’s stomach knotted.

    “This is insane,” she whispered.

    Gabriel didn’t reply. He opened the door and stepped out with the quiet assurance of a man who knew exactly what he wanted. She hesitated, but when he held the door open for her, she found her legs moving.

    Inside, the church smelled faintly of candle wax and dust. A priest stood waiting near the altar, his eyes flickering nervously between the tall man in the suit and the trembling bride in her torn gown.

    “Mr…” the priest started speaking, but Gabriel cut him off.”

    “No pleasantries, her name is Isabella Torres..go straight with the marriage.

    Isabella paused, staring at him.
    “How did you..?” she asked but he ignored her, as he held her hand and pulled her towards the altar.

    Two weary-looking witnesses, a young woman from the parish choir and an old man sweeping the floor were called to stand in.

    Isabella’s hands shook as the priest began.

    “In the name of God and this holy church, we are gathered here today…”

    Her ears rang. She barely heard the words as her mind screamed at her to run. But her feet wouldn’t move, and her heart wouldn’t obey.

    The priest’s voice droned on, the words both surreal and terrifying.

    “Do you, Gabriel Álvarez, take this woman-”

    Her head snapped up.

    Álvarez.

    The name sliced through her like a knife.

    Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Álvarez. Where had she heard it before? It clawed at the back of her mind, tugging at every whispered rumor, every late-night conversation she had overheard.

    “I do,” Gabriel said firmly.

    The priest turned to her. “Do you, Isabella Torres, take this man-”

    Her heart pounded so loudly she could barely hear herself whisper, “I do.”

    “Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may sign here.”

    Her hand shook so badly the pen almost slipped. She scrawled her name across the page, her signature jagged and messy.

    Gabriel took the pen next, his movements calm, deliberate. She leaned closer, eyes darting to the paper.

    There it was.

    Gabriel Álvarez.

    The name rang a louder bell now. Her blood ran cold.

    She turned to look at him, her lips parting, but the words caught in her throat.

    Álvarez.

    Could it be-?

    Her knees felt weak, the ground shifting beneath her as the priest murmured a final blessing. Gabriel’s hand brushed lightly against hers as he closed the book, his eyes flicking to her face.

    “You’re trembling,” he said softly, almost like a taunt.

    “No, I’m,” she replied, adjusting her dress.

    “Yes, you’re,” he said coldly.

    And Isabella knew. Deep down, though she couldn’t yet piece it all together, something was terribly, terrifyingly wrong.

    👉 CONTINUE READING

  • Accidentally In Bed With My Ex’s Uncle. Dark Alpha Nero by Marie Jessette

    Accidentally In Bed With My Ex's Uncle. Dark Alpha Nero by Marie Jessette

    Accidentally murdered the bride? Check.
    Forced to marry the cursed Alpha who’s lost six wives? Check.
    Now wearing her dress, dragged to his bed, while the pack waits outside for proof he’s fucked me raw? Double check.
    Remi was just trying to catch her cheating boyfriend in the act.
    Instead, she tripped, ripped lace, and cracked a skull.
    Now Alpha Nero Blackwater owns her.
    “Bride for bride,” he growls. “You owe me a wedding… and a womb.”
    The curse kills his mates before dawn.
    Unless he plants an heir fast.
    But something’s wrong. What if there was never a curse at all?
    One night to survive.
    One claiming to break everything.
    One Alpha who’ll fuck her senseless… even if it’s the last thing she feels.

    Accidentally In Bed With My Ex’s Uncle. Dark Alpha Nero Chapter 1 Some Kind Of Deranged Stalker

    “Are my tits out?”
    Zaya barely glanced over. “A little. Fix the left one.”
    I yanked up the neckline of my dress for the third time. It was too tight, too low-cut, and stole from my sister who apparently had the body of a Victoria’s Secret model. I did not.
    “Remind me why we’re doing this again?” Jade whispered from behind the hedge.
    “Because Marcus said I couldn’t come to his uncle’s wedding,” I said, wobbling on heels that were definitely a mistake. “Something about it being Moonstone Pack only.”
    “So we’re crashing another pack’s wedding to prove what exactly?”
    “That I’m not some embarrassing girlfriend he has to hide because I’m from Riverside Pack.” I peeked through the gap in the bushes. 
    The ceremony was already starting. White chairs, string lights in the trees, at least two hundred guests in expensive clothes. 
    Jade snorted. “Or he’s going to be pissed and dump you in front of everyone.”
    “Then at least I’ll know where we stand.”
    “You’re insane,” Zaya muttered, but she was grinning. She lived for this kind of chaos.
    If I’d known what was about to happen, I would’ve turned around right then.
    I spotted Marcus in the third row. Dark hair, broad shoulders, wearing a suit that probably cost more than my rent. We’d been dating for eight months.
    The guy who currently had his arm around another girl.
    My heart stopped.
    “Is that Sophie?” Zaya’s voice went up an octave.
    “No.” I leaned closer, squinting. “That can’t be Sophie. He said only Moonstone Pack could attend. She’s from Landravers pack, but he swore they were just-“
    Marcus leaned over and kissed her. On the mouth. For way too long.
    “That’s definitely Sophie,” Jade confirmed.
    “Oh my god.” My stomach dropped into my feet. “Oh my god, that’s Sophie. He’s-they’re-“
    “Okay, new plan,” Zaya said quickly. “We leave. Right now. We go home, eat ice cream, and you block his number-“
    “He LIED to me.” My voice cracked.
    “Remi, we need to go-“
    “I can’t believe this. I borrowed these torture heels. I’m sneaking in like some kind of deranged stalker-“
    I stepped back, gesturing wildly. My heel caught on something.
    A root. Or a rock. I didn’t know. Didn’t matter.
    I was falling.
    “REMI-“
    I grabbed for the hedge. The branch snapped in my hand.
    And then I was rolling.
    Down the hill. Through decorative flowers. Over what might have been a speaker and what I think was the cake table because something creamy slapped my face on the way down.
    My dress was ripping, my hair was in my face, and all I could think was this is how I die. Death by heartbreak and bad footwear choices.
    I hit the aisle runner with a thud that knocked the air from my lungs.
    For one beautiful, horrible second, everything went silent.
    I was face-down on white fabric. There were shoes nearby. I lifted my head.
    I was at the altar.
    The bride was three feet away, mid-vow, staring at me with her mouth open.
    “What the-“
    I tried to get up, but my hand was tangled in something. White fabric. Lace.
    The train of her dress.
    “Wait, I’m sorry-” I yanked my hand free.
    And then the train ripped.
    The bride stumbled backward with force.
    Her heel caught on the torn fabric.
    She fell.
    Everything happened in slow motion. Her arms windmilling. Her head tilting back. The sickening crack when her skull hit the stone pavement.
    Then silence.
    She wasn’t moving.
    “Oh my god,” someone whispered.
    A man rushed forward. He knelt beside her, pressing fingers to her neck. Checking for a pulse.
    He looked up at the groom. His face was pale.
    “She’s… she’s not breathing.”
    My ears started ringing. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.
    Someone in the crowd laughed. “Well. That’s a new record.”
    “She didn’t even make it an hour,” another voice added. “Didn’t even get marked.”
    “Poor Nero. Six times. Has to be some kind of curse.”
    My brain was short-circuiting. Six? What did that mean?
    “Remi?” Marcus stepped forward, still holding Sophie’s hand like she was his emotional support slut. “What are you doing here?”
    I blinked up at him. Frosting dripped down my cheek. “I should’ve tripped on you instead.” 
    Strong hands grabbed my arms. Hauled me to my feet.
    I looked up.
    The groom was standing in front of me. And he was… jesus. He was beautiful. No, that was the wrong word. Devastating. 
    The kind of face that made you forget your own name. He was tall-taller than Marcus, taller than any wolf I’d ever met.. Sharp jaw. 
    Dark hair that looked like he’d run his hands through it too many times. And his eyes-silver. Actual silver, glowing faintly. Alpha eyes.
    My wolf stirred. Interested. Very interested.
    Not now, I told her. We literally just killed someone.
    I forgot where I was.
    I forgot what I’d just done.
    All I could think was: Holy shit, he’s hot.
    “Are you LISTENING to me?”
    I blinked. “Sorry. You’re just very… hot.”
    His eye twitched. Hot.”
    “Yeah. Aggressively. It’s distracting.”
    “You just killed my bride and you’re commenting on my face?”
    Oh. Right. The bride. The murder. Reality came crashing back like a bucket of ice water.
    From somewhere in the bushes, I heard my friends completely losing it.
    “OH MY GOD SHE KILLED SOMEONE-“
    “WE NEED A LAWYER!”
    “RUN, REMI! RUNNNN!”
    “NO, STAY! CONFESS! IT’S MANSLAUGHTER AT MOST-“
    “Was that her SPINE?! I heard cracking!”
    “That was a BRANCH, you idiot-“

    The groom’s grip on my arm tightened. His alpha presence pressed against me, suffocating.  My wolf wanted to submit immediately. I shoved her down.
    His voice dropped to something dangerous. “What pack are you from?”
    “Riverside,” I squeaked. “I’m-I’m nobody. This is a mistake. I didn’t mean to-the branch broke and I fell and..”
    “You’re from Riverside?” he smirked. “And you crashed a Moonstone Pack wedding?”
    “Technically, I crashed through the wedding-“
    “You killed my bride.”
    “That was an accident-“
    “She’s dead.”
    “I KNOW.” My voice broke. “I know, okay? I know. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I’ll do anything-“
    “Anything?”  He looked at me-really looked. Taking in my torn dress, my smeared makeup, the way I was shaking.
    An old woman stepped forward from the crowd. She was smiling.
    “Congratulations, Alpha Nero,” she said cheerfully. “Seems the Moon Goddess has chosen your seventh bride.”
    I choked. “SEVENTH?!”
    “The other six are dead,” he said flatly.
    My blood went cold. “Six. You’ve had SIX wives. And they’re all DEAD?”
    “Yes.”
    “And  I’m number seven?”
    “Correct.”
    “IS THIS A MARRIAGE OR A SURVIVAL GAME?!”
    His jaw ticked. “Both.” Then, to the guards nearby: “Get her cleaned up. We’re finishing the ceremony.”
    “I’M NOT MARRYING YOU-“
    “You killed my bride.” His voice was cold. Final. “You owe me a wedding.”
    “That’s not how marriage works!”
    “It is when you kill an alpha’s intended.” He leaned close. So close I could feel his breath on my face. 
     “Of all the idiots who could’ve killed her,” he said quietly, “it had to be the one with spicy eyes.”
    My brain stuttered. “Spicy… eyes?”
    “Get her dressed,” Nero told the guards. “Ten minutes.”
    “Wait-“
    He was already walking away. Then he looked back over his shoulder.
    “Try not to die tonight,” he said, eyes lingering on my face. “I’m curious about you.”
    Then he was gone.
    Guards grabbed my arms and started dragging me toward a side building.
    “WAIT-” I twisted, trying to see my friends in the bushes. “Jade! Zaya! DON’T LEAVE ME-“
    But they were already running. I saw them disappear into the trees.
    Smart girls.
    I was being pulled through a doorway. Into a room with a vanity and a wedding dress hanging on the wall. The dead bride’s dress.
    A woman appeared with makeup and pins in her hair. She was a wolf too-I could smell it. Moonstone Pack.
    “We need to work fast,” she said, eyeing me critically. “You’re smaller than she was. We’ll have to take in the waist.”
    “I’m not actually doing this,” I said. My voice sounded dreamlike. “This is insane. You can’t force someone to marry-“
    “You killed his bride,” the woman said simply, like that explained everything. “Bride for bride.”
    “It was an accident-“
    “Doesn’t matter.” She started unlacing my torn dress. “You’re here now. And trust me, honey, you do NOT want to refuse Alpha Nero.”
    “Why? What happens if I refuse?”
    She met my eyes in the mirror. And for the first time, I saw genuine pity there.
    She pulled the wedding dress off the hanger. “Let’s just say the last wolf who refused him didn’t walk away.”
    My blood ran cold. “He killed them?”
    “Killing is an understatement.” She held up the dress. “Now put this on. Your groom is waiting.”
    I stared at the dress. 
    Somewhere outside, music started playing.
    The wedding march.
    My wedding march.
    I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Torn dress. Smeared mascara. Leaves in my hair.
    This morning I’d woken up planning to surprise my boyfriend at his uncle’s wedding.
    Now I was about to marry an alpha with six dead wives.
    And if I refused, he would probably kill me.
    “This is not happening,” I whispered.
    The woman smiled sadly. “Honey, it already did.”
    She slipped the dress over my head.
    And I realized I just accidentally murdered my way into a cursed marriage with the most dangerous alpha.
    I was so fucked.

    Accidentally In Bed With My Ex’s Uncle. Dark Alpha Nero Chapter 2 The Wedding Night

    “Do you take this woman-“
    “I’ve done this six times already,” Nero interrupted. “Just skip to the end.”
    The priest’s face went pale. “But Alpha, the sacred vows require…”
    “Five minutes ago, she killed my last bride. I think we can bypass the sacred part.”
    I stood there in a dead woman’s dress, leaves still tangled in my hair, and wondered if this was actually happening or if I’d hit my head harder than I thought when I fell.
    The priest cleared his throat nervously. “Do you, Alpha Nero Blackwater, take this woman as your  bride?”
    “Sure.”
    “And do you-” He squinted at me. “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”
    “Remi,” I whispered. “Remi Olandria Cross.”
    “Do you, Remi Olandria Cross, take Alpha Nero Blackwater as your husband?”
    I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
    Nero’s hand tightened. “She does,” he said.
    “Actually, I should probably-“
    “She does,” he repeated, louder this time. His eyes met mine. 
    The priest hurried through the rest. Something about the Moon Goddess and eternal bonds and pack law. I wasn’t listening. I was staring at the white sheet covering the bride’s body twenty feet away.
    They’d carried her off to the side. Out of the way. Like she was furniture.
    “I caught a glimpse of her hand before they covered it. Something green under her fingernails. Like… plant residue? Or something else?”
    “You may now kiss the bride.”
    My head snapped up. “Wait, we don’t have to-“
    Nero leaned in close enough that I could smell him. 
    “Your parents,” he said quietly. “Your siblings. Those two friends who ran away. I know where they all live.”
    My blood went cold.
    “So you’re going to kiss me,” he continued, “And you’re going to make it convincing. Understand?”
    I stared at him. 
    “Understand?” he repeated.
    I nodded.
    His hand came up, fingers tilting my chin. And then he kissed me.
    I’d kissed Marcus plenty of times. Sweet kisses. Soft kisses. The kind that made you feel warm and safe.
    This wasn’t that.
    This was heat and possession and something that made my wolf sit up and pay attention.
     His mouth moved against mine and my brain short-circuited. I forgot where I was. Forgot the crowd watching. Forgot everything except the way his thumb brushed my jaw and how my whole body leaned into him without permission.
    Finally, my wolf purred. More of this.
    Shut up, I told her. We’re being threatened.
    He tastes good though.
    He did taste good. Damn it.
    Nero pulled back. There was a smirk on his face.
    “Are you sure you’re my nephew’s girl?” he said, just loud enough for me to hear.
    My face burned. “Fuck  you.”
    “Good. We’re off to a great start.”
    Drums started beating. The crowd shifted, forming lines on either side of us.
    The priestess stepped forward, holding a ceremonial bowl. She was dressed in white robes, her face painted with symbols.
    “The consummation will now proceed,” she announced. “The pack will remain here until confirmation of the Alpha’s heir.”
    Wait.
    What?
    “I’m sorry,” I said. “Did you just say-“
    Oh god.
    They were waiting for us to-
    “No,” I said. “No, no, no-“
    “NERO.”
    An older woman’s voice cut through the crowd. Her eyes were the same silver as Nero’s.
    “Mother,” Nero said flatly.
    “Stop this. Now.”
    “Not really the time-“
    “She’s not one of ours.” His mother looked at me with pure disdain. “She’s not even Moonstone Pack. She’s riverside trash. She won’t last the night-“
    “YOU chose the last six brides,” Nero interrupted. His voice dropped to dangerous. “Every single one. All dead within days. So forgive me if I don’t trust your judgment anymore.”
    His mother’s face went tight. “Your father would roll over in his grave if he knew-“
    “My father is dead. And you’re done picking my brides.” He pulled me closer. “This one’s mine.”
    She stared at him for a long moment. Then her eyes slid to me.
    “Mark my words,” she said quietly. “This one won’t survive till morning.”
    Then she turned and walked away.
    I looked up at Nero. “Your family’s great. Really warm.”
    Nero started walking. I stumbled after him, still in bare feet, the wedding dress dragging on the ground.
    The pack parted for us, forming a processional line. 
    We reached a set of massive doors with guards standing on either side.
    The Alpha chambers.
    My stomach dropped.
    “Wait-” I tried to stop, but Nero kept moving, pulling me with him.
    The pack filed in behind us, lining the hallway. More drums and witnesses.
    This is like a horror movie, I thought wildly. Or one of those dark romance novels where the heroine dies in chapter three. Finally, we reached another door. Nero opened it.
    A massive bedroom with a four-poster bed, dark walls, and candles everywhere.
    He pulled me inside.
    We were alone, but I could hear the pack waiting outside.
    Waiting for proof that we’d-
    “Okay,” I said, my voice too high. “So we don’t actually have to do this, right? You just go back out there and say it’s done and they leave-“
    Nero turned to face me.
    “No.”
    “No?”
    “Evidence must be submitted to the priestess.”
    “Evidence?” My voice cracked. “What kind of evidence?”
    “My seed. Proof of consummation.”
    The room tilted.
    “I’m a virgin,” I blurted out.
    “I know.”
    “How do you-” I stopped. “You know what, I don’t want to know. This is insane. You can’t actually expect me to-“
    He stepped closer. I stepped back. “My bloodline fights the curse. If I leave an heir in you tonight, you have a fighting chance.”
    “The other six didn’t survive.”
    “Luck isn’t something my brides have.” He took another step. “We’re doing this tonight.”
    YES, my wolf said immediately. Finally. Yes. Absolutely yes.
    “Did you miss the part where six women DIED?” I said to her.
    But he’s so-
    “Don’t even finish that sentence.”
    Nero was watching me. He started unbuttoning his shirt. “Strip.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “We’re running out of time. The longer we wait, the stronger the curse gets.”
    “This is-I can’t just-“
    He pulled his shirt off.
    Oh.
    Oh no.
    He was built like he spent every day fighting bears. Broad shoulders. Defined chest. Abs that should be illegal.
    See? my wolf said smugly. Death wish. Totally worth it.
    “Stop staring,” Nero said.
    “I’m not staring.”
    “You’re staring.”
    “You took your shirt off in front of me. That’s on you.”
    He almost smiled. Then he turned around, giving me privacy.
    I stared at his back. At the way his muscles moved under his skin. At the scars crisscrossing his shoulders.
    He’d been in fights. Real ones.
    My fingers went to the laces of my dress. I hesitated.
    “I can hear your heartbeat,” he said, not turning around. “You’re terrified.”
    “Six dead wives. You do the math.”
    “Fair point.”
    I unlaced the dress. Let it pool at my feet. I was standing in just my undergarments, shaking.
    I’d been planning to surprise my boyfriend Now I was half-naked in a stranger’s bedroom, about to have sex to maybe-possibly-probably-not survive a curse.
    Nero unbuckled his belt.
    I should’ve looked away.
    I didn’t.
    He pushed his pants down. Stepped out of them. He was in just his briefs now, and I could see everything. The muscles in his thighs. His ass, which was unfairly perfect.
    Such a wild imagination for someone about to die, my wolf teased. And didn’t your boyfriend just cheat on you?
    “He’s objectively attractive,” I muttered. “That’s just facts.”
    Nero climbed into bed. Pulled the sheet over himself. Then he turned to look at me.
    His eyes went wide.
    For the first time since I’d met him, his control cracked.
    His pupils dilated. His breathing changed. I watched his body react under the sheets-watched his arousal become very, very obvious.
    He was BEAUTIFUL.
    Oh god.
    He was hard. Very hard. And there was… a lot of him.
    “Fuck,” he breathed.
    I froze.
    He stared at me like I was the only thing in the world. Like he’d forgotten how to think.
    “You’re-” He shook his head, like he was trying to clear it. “Fuck.”
    “That’s not a complete sentence.”
    He moved fast. Suddenly, he was right there, kneeling in front of me on the bed, his hand coming up to cup my face.
    “You’re fucking beautiful,” he said. “Spicy eyes.”
    My breath caught. He leaned in, and His thumb traced my bottom lip.
    “I’m going to-“
    “His hand slid down my stomach. Lower. I stopped breathing. This was happening. This was actually-
    Then he stopped.
    His hand dropped, and His whole body went rigid  like he’d just remembered something
    “Get dressed,” he said.
    “What?”
    He grabbed my clothes. Threw them at me.
    “Get dressed. Now.”
    “I thought you said we had to-“
    “Change of plans.” He climbed out of bed, wrapping a towel around himself.
    “But the evidence. The people outside-“
    “I’m the Alpha.” His voice was cold again. Distant. “They listen to me. Not the other way around.”
    “But this gives me a fighting chance against the curse-“
    He spun on me. His eyes flashed silver.
    “Maybe I don’t want you to fight it,” he said quietly. “Maybe I want you dead.”
    I flinched.
    He stared at me for another second. Then he grabbed his pants, pulled them on, and headed for the door.
    “Wait-“
    The door slammed behind him.
    I heard the lock click from the outside.
    He locked me in.
    I stood there, half-naked, holding my dress, and stared at the door.
    Outside, the music was still playing. The pack was still waiting.
    But he’d left me here.
    Alone.
    I pulled my dress back on. My hands were shaking.
    “I’m not dying here,” I said out loud. “I’m not one of those stupid romance novel heroines who dies for some cursed alpha. Fuck that.”
    I needed to get out. Get back to my parents. To Jade and Zaya. To people who actually gave a shit if I lived or died.
    I searched the room. Looked for another exit. A window I could climb out of. A key. Anything.
    Nothing.
    I was about to start trying to pick the lock when I spotted something under the bed.
    A book.
    No. A sketchbook.
    I pulled it out. There were Pages and pages of drawings.
    Creatures. Wolves mid-transformation, but wrong. Twisted. Their bones breaking in ways that shouldn’t be possible.. Notes scribbled in tight handwriting.
    Symbols I didn’t recognize. Runes, maybe.
    He was studying the curse.
    I kept flipping. More sketches. More notes. Then-
    I stopped.
    The page was crumpled. Like someone had tried to throw it away and then changed their mind.
    I smoothed it out.
    It was a drawing of a woman’s face. Beautiful. Detailed. Drawn with care.
    My face.
    My heart stopped.
    I flipped back through the book, searching for a date.
    There In the corner of the page.
    Three months ago.
    Three months before I’d ever crashed that wedding. Three months before I’d ever heard the name Nero Blackwater.
    My hands started shaking.
    Outside, the music finally stopped. The pack was leaving. Giving up on the consummation.
    I stared at my own face in the drawing.
    “This wasn’t an accident,” I whispered.

    Accidentally In Bed With My Ex’s Uncle. Dark Alpha Nero Chapter 3 Black Lace Thong

    Alpha NERO POV
    “Fuck.” I slammed the door to my father’s office so hard the windows rattled.
    I was trying to ignore the fact that I was still hard. Still thinking about her. About the way she’d looked standing there in nothing but scraps of lace, all curves and those fucking eyes that made my wolf want to-
    “Rough night?”
    I spun around. My brother Kade was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking far too amused for someone who’d just watched another wedding turn into a shitshow.
    “Get out.”
    “That’s no way to talk to your Second.” He pushed off the frame, strolling into the room. “Especially when I’m here to help.”
    “I don’t need help.”
    “You just walked away from a gorgeous woman who was naked in your bed.” He dropped into the chair across from my desk. “Trust me, brother, you need all the help you can get.”
    I glared at him. Kade was two years younger than me, lighter in every way-lighter hair, lighter eyes, lighter approach to life. Where I carried the weight of the pack, he carried designer clothes and an iPad full of interior design apps.
    “She was willing,” he continued, studying his nails. “She was naked. You were very obviously into it. And yet here you are, pacing around Dad’s office like a caged animal while she’s locked in your room. So what happened?”
    “None of your business.”
    “Actually, it is my business. I’m your Second. And also your brother. And also the one who’s going to have to deal with the very angry priestess and the very confused pack tomorrow morning when they find out you didn’t complete the consummation ritual.” He tilted his head. “Again.”
    I turned away, staring out the window at the dark forest beyond. “I had my reasons.”
    “Which were?”
    “Kade-“
    “Come on. This isn’t like you. You usually take every opportunity to sleep with your brides. Especially one that hot.” He paused. “Why’d you stop?”
    I pressed my palms against the desk, trying to find words for something I didn’t understand myself.
    “You remember the woman from my dreams?”
    Silence. Then: “The one you’ve been sketching for months? The face you keep seeing?”
    “Yeah.”
    “What about her?”
    I turned to face him. “It’s her.”
    Kade blinked. “It’s… who?”
    “Remi. The girl downstairs. She’s the woman from my dreams.”
    His eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding.”
    “I didn’t recognize her at first. Her eyes are different-warmer in the dreams. Kinder. And her hair…” I ran a hand through my own hair, frustrated. “But when she took off the dress, I saw the scar. On her. Same placement as in my dreams.”
    Kade leaned forward. “Nero-“
    “She’s the one. The face I see every time I close my eyes. And tonight she just… appeared. Crashed a wedding, killed my bride, and ended up in my bed.” I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Tell me that’s not suspicious.”
    “So you think what? She’s a spy? Someone sent her?”
    Kade was quiet for a moment. Then he pulled out his phone. “I did some digging after the ceremony.”
    “And?”
    “She’s nobody, Nero. Like, actually nobody. Works as a bartender at some dive in Riverside territory. Comes from a big family. Father drinks too much. Mother does… let’s just say ‘sketchy business’ and leave it at that.”
    “A bartender,” I repeated.
    “From Riverside. The poorest pack in the region.” He looked up. “So the question what the hell was our nephew doing with her?”
    That was a good question.
    “Or,” Kade said slowly, “the Moon Goddess has a twisted sense of humor.”
    I shot him a look.
    Fair point.
    We sat in silence for a moment.
    “You should’ve slept with her,” Kade said finally. “Consummation would give her a fighting chance against the curse. You know that.”
    “Don’t remind me of my mistake.”
    “Oh, it was a mistake?” Kade’s eyebrows rose. “So you DO want to sleep with her.”
    “You can’t imagine how much I’m regretting not finishing what I started.”
    “Nero-“
    I thought for a moment. “Prepare a peace offering basket for the dead bride’s parents. The usual-gold, apology letter, blood money.”
    “And for Remi’s family?”
    “Same thing. They’ll need it for her funeral.”
    Kade froze. “You really think she’s going to die tonight.”
    “They all do.” My voice was flat. “Might as well dig both graves now. Same plot as the others. Save time.”
    “That’s dark, even for you.”
    Kade studied me. A clock chimed. It was almost midnight.
    “Shit,” Kade said. “Nero, we need to-“
    “I know.” I was already moving toward the door.
    “Your room. Now.”
    We reached my chambers-not the ones where I’d left Remi, but my real chambers. The ones with reinforced walls and chains built into the bedframe.
    Kade locked the door behind us.
    “Lie down,” he said.
    He moved quickly, securing the chains around my wrists. Heavy iron, blessed by the priestess. The only thing strong enough to hold an Alpha.
    He finished with my wrists and moved to my ankles. The chains were long enough that I could move, but not long enough to break free. Not long enough to hurt myself or anyone.
    “Make sure she doesn’t leave,” I said.
    Kade looked up. “Remi?”
    “And Kade?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Make sure the chains are tight. I don’t want… incidents.”
    He tested each lock again, yanking on them hard enough to make sure they held.
    “Tight enough?” Kade asked.
    I tested them, pulling hard. The chains held. “Good.”
    Kade squeezed my shoulder. “Get some sleep. Or, you know, whatever passes for sleep when you’re chained to a bed.”
    Then he was gone.
    I was alone.
    I closed my eyes and thought about her. About Remi. About the way she’d looked at me right before I’d told her I wanted her dead.
    I’d lied.
    REMI POV That Night
    I was still staring at the drawing when I heard footsteps outside the door.
    I grabbed the first thing I could reach-a heavy candlestick-and pressed myself against the wall beside the door.
    If someone was coming to kill me, I was going out swinging.
    The lock clicked.
    The door opened.
    A man walked in. Not Nero. This one was leaner, prettier, and moved like a dancer.
    “Hello, sister-in-law,” he said cheerfully.
    I raised the candlestick. “Take one more step and I’ll bash your skull in.”
    He looked at the candlestick. Then at me. Then he smiled.
    “Oh, I REALLY like you. Nero’s going to have so much fun with this one.”
    “Who the fuck are you?”
    “Kade. Nero’s brother.” He held up a shopping bag. “I come bearing gifts.”
    “I don’t want gifts. I want answers.”
    “Can’t help you there. But I can help you out of that tragic dress situation you’ve got going on.” He tossed me the bag. “You can’t sleep in a dead woman’s wedding gown. That’s just depressing.”
    I caught the bag reflexively. “Nero sent you?”
    “Nero’s… busy.” Something flickered across his face. “I’m here on my own.”
    I opened the bag slowly and pulled out what was inside.
    A black lace thong. Matching bra. And absolutely nothing else.
    “Are you KIDDING me?” I held up the thong. It was basically a string. “Where’s the rest of it?”
    Kade grinned. “That is the rest of it.”
    “This is lingerie.”
    “That IS clothes. Very expensive clothes, actually. You’re welcome.”
    I threw the thong at his face. He caught it, laughing.
    “I’m not wearing this,” I said.
    “Your choice. But the alternative is sleeping in that.” He nodded at the bloodstained wedding dress. “And trust me, that’s not doing you any favors.”
    I glared at him. Then at the dress. He had a point..
    “Has anyone ever told you that you’re annoying?”
    He laughed. “I like you. You’ve got bite.”
    “I’ve got questions. Are you going to answer them or not?”
    “Not.” He pushed off the frame. “But I will tell you this: my brother’s not the monster everyone thinks he is.”
    “Six dead wives would suggest otherwise.”
    “Six cursed wives,” he corrected. “There’s a difference.You’re still alive, aren’t you?”
    “You should get some sleep.” He backed toward the door. “Big day tomorrow. Assuming you survive the night.”
    “Wait-“
    “Goodnight, sister-in-law. Try not to die before breakfast.”
    He closed the door.
    I couldn’t sleep for hours. I lay on the bed, thinking about how I got into this mess.
    Then, A sound came from outside my door. Then again.
    Chains rattling.
    It was coming from down the hall.
    From Nero’s direction. Whatever monster lived in that room…
    I was married to it now.

  • Chosen as the Cursed Alpha’s Seventh Bride by Alibi

    Chosen as the Cursed Alpha's Seventh Bride by Alibi

    Emilia Taylor was the most unwanted daughter of the Frostridge Pack.
    She had no wolf, no status, and no one who truly loved her. After failing to awaken at the age of twenty-two, she was betrayed by her lover, abandoned by her family, and finally sent by her father to the Silver Moon Pack-to become Sebastian Simons’ seventh bride.
    Sebastian was the Alpha everyone feared.
    Rumor had it that none of his first six wives had met a good end, and every woman who married him eventually became another name on the list of the dead.
    Everyone was waiting for Emilia to die.
    But they did not know that her failed awakening had not left her with nothing. Instead, she had gained the ability to read minds. She could hear the malice and lies hidden behind every smile.
    Everyone’s thoughts were open to her.
    Except Sebastian’s.
    She could not hear his mind, nor could she see through his secrets.
    When a wolfless girl abandoned by everyone meets a cold-blooded Alpha haunted by the mystery of six dead wives, will she become his next victim-or the only one who can break the curse?

    Chosen as the Cursed Alpha’s Seventh Bride Chapter 1

    Wolfless But Mind Reader
    Emilia’s POV
    For a very long time, I had believed that pain was something a person could grow used to, the same way one grew used to winter wind slipping through cracked windows or old scars aching before rain.
    In the Frostridge pack, I was not simply disliked. I was considered an error that had somehow survived birth.
    My father was Alpha Henry, but being his daughter had never protected me, because my mother had been a witch, and in a pack that worshiped pure wolf blood above almost everything else, my mixed blood became a crime no one needed to prove before punishing me for it.
    When I was younger, I used to wonder if they would have treated me differently if my wolf had awakened early, if I had shifted beneath the moon like every other Alpha-blooded child was expected to do, if my claws had been sharp enough and my howl loud enough to make them forget the witch half of me.
    But year after year, nothing came.
    Hybrid.
    Bastard.
    Curse.
    The words followed me through the halls of the pack house, across the training field. My stepsister Linda was even better at it; she never needed to raise her hand when she could turn an entire room against me with one sweet, pitying glance.
    By the time I turned twenty-two, I had already learned how to lower my eyes when elders looked at me with disgust, how to ignore the servants who whispered that I was cursed, and how to pretend my stepmother Dorothy’s gentle smile did not hurt more than open cruelty because it always came before she reminded me, in the softest possible voice, that I should be grateful the pack still allowed me to stay.
    The only reason I had not completely collapsed under all of it was Brandon Cole.
    He had been my hope for so long that I no longer knew how to separate him from the idea of survival itself.
    Brandon was the strongest young warrior in our pack, handsome, admired, and respected in a way I had never been.
    “When she comes, Emmy,” he used to whisper, brushing his lips over my scars as if they were something precious instead of proof of every punishment I had endured, “everyone who looked down on you will regret it.”
    So I waited.
    I waited through my eighteenth birthday, when most wolves shifted for the first time and I felt nothing but silence beneath my skin. I waited through nineteen, twenty, and twenty-one, while the pack’s disappointment hardened into mockery and my father’s eyes grew colder each time he looked at me. I waited until my twenty-second birthday, the final night a werewolf could still awaken before being declared permanently defective.
    Tonight was my last chance.
    Under the full moon, surrounded by wolves who had gathered less to witness my awakening than to enjoy my final failure, I stood barefoot in the ritual circle and forced myself not to tremble. The silver bowl before me reflected the moonlight, the elder’s chant rose and fell like distant thunder, and somewhere beyond the crowd, Brandon watched me with an expression I wanted desperately to believe was love.
    Then the ritual ended.
    Nothing happened.
    A few wolves laughed.
    My stepmother sighed as if my failure had personally inconvenienced her, Linda lowered her eyes to hide the smile pulling at her lips, and my father turned away before the elder even announced what everyone already knew.
    That would be the worst pain of the night.
    But I was wrong.
    As I stepped out of the ritual circle, something sharp split through my skull, and a flood of voices crashed into me all at once.
    [What a waste of moonlight.]
    [I knew she wouldn’t shift.]
    [Brandon must be tired of pretending by now.]
    I froze.
    No one’s mouth had moved.
    The wolves around me were still laughing, whispering, staring, but beneath their spoken words came another layer of sound-clearer, uglier, impossible to ignore.
    Their thoughts.
    Panic tightened around my throat as I stumbled back, pressing a hand against my temple while the pack’s hidden cruelty poured into me without mercy. Every smile had a second voice. Every pitying glance carried a knife. They had hated me more deeply than I had ever allowed myself to imagine.
    I needed Brandon.
    I needed the one person who had always made the noise of the pack feel far away.
    But as I pushed through the crowd, desperate to find him, a maid passed close enough for her thoughts to slice through the chaos.
    [Brandon followed Linda into her room again. Goddess, I swear, if I have to wait for them to finish and then scrub another set of destroyed sheets, I’m going to lose it.]
    My body stopped moving.
    For one heartbeat, the entire world went silent.
    Then my blood turned cold.
    I grabbed the maid’s wrist so hard she cried out.
    “What did you say?”
    Her eyes widened in terror. “Miss Emilia, I didn’t say anything.”
    She was telling the truth.
    Her lips had not moved.
    But I had heard her.
    A terrible numbness spread through me as I released the maid and turned toward the pack house. I did not remember crossing the courtyard, climbing the stairs, or passing the servants who stepped out of my way with startled faces and guilty minds. I only remembered the pounding of my heart and the foolish, desperate prayer repeating inside me.
    Please be wrong.
    Please let this be the one thought I misunderstood.
    Please let him still be mine.
    When I reached Linda’s door, I already knew.
    I pushed the door open.
    The scene before me was worse than any nightmare.
    The bed creaked rhythmically, obscene sounds spilling.
    Brandon-my Brandon-was naked, his body moving over someone sprawled beneath him on the bed. Linda’s long legs wrapped around his waist, her nails raking down his back as she moaned his name.
    My sister. My boyfriend.
    In that moment, I didn’t feel pain. I felt nothing. Just a hollow, echoing void where my heart should have been.
    Then their thoughts crashed into my mind like broken glass.
    [God, she’s so much better than Emilia. Tighter. More responsive. How did I waste many years on that frigid wolfless bitch?] Brandon’s voice, clear in my head even as his mouth was occupied elsewhere.
    [Look at her standing there like a pathetic little ghost. Does she really think Brandon ever loved her? Please. He’s been mine since the day I decided I wanted him.] Linda’s thoughts dripped with venom and smug satisfaction.
    The numbness shattered.
    Rage-pure, incandescent fury-flooded through me.
    I grabbed the vase from the dresser near the door and hurled it at the wall beside the bed. It exploded with a satisfying crash.
    They jerked apart, Linda screaming, Brandon scrambling to cover himself.
    “Emilia!” Brandon’s face went white. “This isn’t-I can explain-“
    “Explain?” My voice came out low and deadly calm. “Explain how you’ve been fucking my sister for three months while telling me you loved me?”
    His jaw dropped. “How did you-“
    “Does it matter?” I stepped into the room, my hands clenched into fists.
    Linda sat up, not bothering to cover herself, a cruel smile playing on her lips. “Oh, please. Don’t act so surprised, Emilia. Did you really think someone like Brandon would settle for a wolfless freak like you?”
    [She’s even more pathetic than I thought. Look at her, about to cry. This is delicious.]
    I moved before I could think. My hand connected with Brandon’s cheek with a crack that echoed through the room.

    Chosen as the Cursed Alpha’s Seventh Bride Chapter 2

    Sent to the Demon
    Emilia’s POV
    Brandon staggered back, hand flying to his reddening face. “What the fuck-“
    The second slap hit even harder.
    “That’s for lying to me for a year,” I said, my voice shaking with fury. “For making me believe you cared about me. For being a fucking coward who couldn’t even break up with me before shoving your dick into my sister.”
    “You crazy bitch!” Brandon lunged toward me, but I was already moving.
    I grabbed Linda’s designer purse from the nightstand and flung it at his head. It connected with a satisfying thud.
    “We’re done,” I said coldly. “Don’t ever speak to me again. Don’t look at me. Don’t even breathe in my direction. You disgust me.”
    I turned to Linda, whose smirk had finally faltered.
    “And you. Congratulations. You’ve won the grand prize-a cheating coward with a small dick and no future. I hope you’re very happy together.”
    I didn’t wait for a response. I spun on my heel and walked out, slamming the door behind me hard enough to rattle the frame.
    My father’s office was on the first floor. I stormed through the hallways, ignoring the curious stares of lingering guests, my heart hammering against my ribs.
    I didn’t bother knocking. I shoved the door open.
    Alpha Henry sat behind his desk, Dorothy perched on the edge beside him. They both looked up, startled.
    “Emilia,” my father began. “What are you-“
    “Did you know?” I demanded, my voice raw from everything I had just swallowed and everything I could no longer pretend not to understand. “Did you know Brandon was cheating on me with Linda?”
    Alpha Henry only leaned back in his chair and looked at me with the tired impatience.
    “Sit down, Emilia.”
    “No.”
    My answer was sharper than I expected, and the silence that followed made Dorothy lift her brows.
    “Did you know?” I asked again.
    This time, my father did not bother to lie.
    “Yes.”
    The word hit harder than finding Brandon in Linda’s bed.
    “You knew,” I whispered.
    “Brandon is a talented warrior,” my father said coldly, as if that explained everything. “He is one of the most promising wolves in this generation, and the pack has invested too much in him to waste his future on sentiment.”
    For a moment, I could only stare at him, because I had come into this room expecting anger, perhaps even disappointment, but not this calm, practical cruelty that treated my heartbreak as nothing more than poor strategy.
    Then he said the thing he had clearly been waiting to say.
    “You failed your Awakening.”
    The room went still.
    “You were given twenty-two years, Emilia,” he continued, his voice hardening with each word. “and yet after all that time, you are still standing here exactly as you began.”
    [Wolfless.]
    [Useless.]
    [Unwanted.]
    He did not need to say the words aloud.
    I heard them anyway.
    “So that’s it?” I asked, my throat tightening around the question. “Because I didn’t shift, Brandon gets to betray me, Linda gets to humiliate me, and you get to pretend none of it matters?”
    “Linda has a wolf,” Henry snapped. “Linda has value. Brandon needs a mate who can stand beside him, bear strong heirs, and strengthen this pack. Not you.”
    “If I was such a disappointment,” I said slowly, “then why did you have me at all?”
    His expression changed. “Watch your tone.”
    “No,” I said, and once the word left me, everything I had buried for years began to rise with it. “If you hated my mother so much, why chose her? If you hated what I was, why let me live here for twenty-two years begging for scraps of approval you never planned to give me?”
    Dorothy’s face cooled. “That is enough.”
    Henry slammed his hand against the desk. The sound cracked through the office.
    “I chose this pack.”
    That was when I saw the black envelope.
    Dorothy picked it up from the desk with graceful fingers and placed it where I could see the silver wax seal pressed into the paper.
    The Simons crest.
    My blood turned cold before she even spoke.
    “Linda received an invitation from the Simons family,” Dorothy said gently, and the sweetness in her voice made my stomach twist. “But after discussing it carefully, your father and I have decided that you will attend in her place.”
    For a few seconds, I could not make sense of the words, because the Simons family was not merely powerful or wealthy; they were feared, whispered about, avoided by every family with daughters old enough to marry.
    And Alpha Sebastian Simons was the worst of them.
    Six brides.
    Six funerals.
    “You want me to replace Linda,” I said, each word colder than the last, “because you’re afraid he will kill her.”
    “No one said that,” Dorothy replied.
    But my father’s thoughts moved through my mind with brutal clarity.
    [Linda is too valuable to risk.]
    “It is a duty,” my father corrected. “The Simons alliance can save Frostridge pack.”
    “And if I die?”
    Neither of them answered.
    They did not need to.
    My father’s thoughts answered for them.
    [If she dies, we lose nothing.]
    For a moment, the office seemed to disappear around me, and all I could feel was the horrible clarity of finally knowing my place in this family, not as a daughter, not even as a shame they wished to hide, but as a body they could send into danger because no one would mourn the loss.
    I stepped back.
    “No.”
    Henry’s eyes narrowed. “Emilia.”
    “No,” I repeated, louder this time. “I won’t go.”
    His Alpha aura filled the room, heavy enough to press against my bones. “You have spent your entire life receiving this pack’s mercy. Now you will repay it.”
    “Mercy?” I laughed, though my chest felt like it was breaking open. “You call this mercy?”
    “I call it obedience.”
    Then he looked past me.
    “Guards.”
    The door opened before I could reach it, and two warriors seized my arms from behind with enough force to make pain shoot through my shoulders.
    I kicked, twisted, screamed, and when one of them dragged me backward, I sank my teeth into his wrist with every bit of rage I had left.
    He cursed, his grip loosened.
    For one wild second, I was free.
    Then something slammed into the back of my head.
    Pain burst white behind my eyes, the floor tilted beneath me, and as darkness began to drag me under, I heard my father’s thoughts one last time, calm and relieved in a way his voice had never been.
    [Finally.]
    [That problem is taken care of.]
    The dark closed in.
    And in the last fading corner of my mind, I understood.
    No one in Frostridge pack expected me to survive.
    They had already abandoned me to death.

    Chosen as the Cursed Alpha’s Seventh Bride Chapter 3

    Bride Selection
    Emilia’s POV
    The scent of roses and expensive perfume hit me first.
    My eyes fluttered open to find myself staring at an ornate ceiling with intricate moldings. The bed beneath me was obscenely soft.
    Where the hell was I?
    I sat up too quickly. My head spun, the sedative still clinging to my system. The room around me was massive-easily twice the size of my bedroom back at the Frostridge pack house. Everything screamed wealth: silk curtains, marble floors, a chandelier that looked like it belonged in a palace.
    Then I caught sight of myself in the full-length mirror across the room.
    They’d dressed me up like a doll.
    My hair cascaded down my back in soft waves, and my makeup highlighted my best features. My eyes looked deeper, my lips fuller, and my reflection almost felt unfamiliar.
    The navy silk dress fit me perfectly, elegant and flattering, making it impossible to look away.
    I looked gorgeous.
    I looked like a bride being prepared for slaughter.
    Of course they made me pretty. Can’t send damaged goods to the devil himself.
    My father had held that elaborate birthday ceremony not out of love, but as a public display-proof that he’d treated both daughters equally. Then he could ship me off to Sebastian Simons with a clear conscience, his reputation intact.
    Linda got Brandon. I got a death sentence.
    He’d probably started planning this the moment my wolf failed to emerge.
    A sharp knock at the door.
    “Miss Taylor?” A woman’s voice. “Alpha Sebastian’s selection will begin shortly. Please follow me.”
    My stomach dropped. This was really happening.
    I opened the door to find a middle-aged woman in a black uniform. She looked me up and down with cold assessment.
    The Frostridge pack must really be desperate, her thoughts hit me. Sending a wolfless embarrassment to Alpha Sebastian. Do they think we’re idiots?
    The malice in her thoughts made my jaw clench. But I kept my expression calm, following her down a hallway that seemed to stretch forever.
    The mansion was even more impressive than my room suggested-a sprawling estate that mixed modern luxury with old-world elegance. We passed floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking manicured gardens, walls lined with what I suspected were original Renaissance paintings.
    As we walked through the double doors, the noise hit me.
    Not sound-thoughts.
    Dozens of them, all at once, crashing into my mind like a tidal wave.
    I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. Marrying a notorious demon. My life is over.
    He might be violent, but his marriages never last long. Two months tops, then divorce. But that severance package… eighteen million dollars and the status of being a Simons? Worth the risk.
    Oh God, she’s gorgeous. If that wolfless bitch gets chosen instead of me, I swear I’ll-
    My father’s going to kill me if I don’t get selected. The pack needs this alliance. I have to make him notice me.
    The thoughts overlapped, tangled, multiplied. It felt like a thousand bees had nested inside my skull, their buzzing growing louder and louder until I couldn’t tell where one thought ended and another began.
    My vision blurred. The hallway tilted.
    I pressed a hand against the wall, trying to steady myself, but the thoughts kept coming, relentless and overwhelming.
    Why is she touching the wall? Is she going to faint? Pathetic.
    The guide’s thoughts cut through the chaos, sharp with disdain.
    “Miss Taylor?” Her voice sounded distant, underwater. “Are you quite alright?”
    I couldn’t answer. My throat had closed. My lungs refused to expand. The edges of my vision darkened as panic clawed up my chest.
    *Breathe, *I commanded myself desperately. Just breathe.
    But the voices in my head wouldn’t stop. They grew louder, angrier, more frantic.
    A waiting area, with at least thirty women, all dressed to perfection, all wearing varying expressions of fear and determination.
    The receiving room doors burst open.
    A woman stumbled out, makeup streaked down her face, shoulders shaking with sobs. As she rushed past me, her thoughts slammed into mine with devastating clarity.
    I’ve never met such a cruel, heartless Alpha in my life. The way he looked at me-like I was dirt. Like I was nothing. God, I just want to go home. I want to disappear. I want-
    She was gone before I could process it, but two more women followed in quick succession, each one crying, each one broadcasting their terror and humiliation directly into my brain.
    Monster. He’s a monster.
    Those eyes. Those cold, empty eyes. Like a predator deciding whether to kill you now or later.
    I’m not pretty enough. I’m not smart enough. I’ll never be enough for someone like him.
    I doubled over, pressing my palms against my temples, trying desperately to shut them out. But I couldn’t. The ability was too new, too raw. I had no control.
    “Miss Taylor!” The guide’s hand gripped my elbow, steadying me. “You’re next. Pull yourself together.”
    I forced my head up, blinking away the spots dancing across my vision.
    Two guards flanked the entrance, massive wolves who watched me with undisguised contempt.
    *Run, *every instinct screamed. Run now while you still can.
    But I’d seen the guards. I’d seen how the estate was locked down tighter than a prison. Even if I made it past them, where would I go? Back to a father who’d drugged and sold me? Back to a sister who’d stolen my boyfriend and laughed about it?
    I had nowhere to run. No one to save me.
    So I did the only thing I could.
    I straightened my spine, lifted my chin, and walked through those doors like I had a choice in any of this.
    The receiving room was enormous. But despite its size, the air felt suffocating, pressing down on me from all sides.
    And then I saw him.
    Sebastian Simons sat in the center of the room on a leather sofa that looked more like a throne. Even seated, his presence dominated the space. Tall. Powerfully built. He radiated the kind of authority that made people instinctively want to kneel.
    Dark hair. High cheekbones. A straight nose. Every feature sharp and defined.
    His eyes… Green. Piercing. Intense and unforgiving.
    Those eyes locked onto mine.
    And suddenly, the world went silent.
    All the voices-the screaming, buzzing chaos that had been tearing my mind apart-vanished in an instant.
    I couldn’t hear his thoughts. Couldn’t sense anything from him except… presence. Weight. Power.
    It was the most peaceful silence I’d experienced since this cursed ability had awakened.
    And this peace, ironically, came from the very man most likely to kill me.