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I'm Your Brother's Wife Dear Ace
I'm Your Brother's Wife Dear Ace

I'm Your Brother's Wife Dear Ace

56 Chapters
Completed
I'm Your Brother's Wife Dear Ace is a gripping werewolf romance and fantasy novel. Born wolfless, Lyra is traded to Alpha Draven as a trophy wife. But when his exiled brother Ace returns, he awakens her dormant power and a forbidden, obsessive desire that could burn the pack down.

I'm Your Brother's Wife Dear Ace Summary

Lyra Moonveil, the Wolfless Princess, is bartered by her ambitious father to Alpha Draven Blackthorn. Trapped as a silent ornament in a loveless marriage, she endures a gilded cage while her husband pines for another. Her quiet captivity shatters when Ace Blackthorn, Draven’s exiled brother, storms back into the pack. Ace doesn’t dismiss her as a fragile doll; instead, he recognizes the commanding force in her voice and the terrifying power sleeping beneath her skin. Driven by vengeance and a hunger for the throne, Ace fixates on claiming his brother’s wife. As a dangerous, consuming bond ignites between them, Lyra faces a brutal choice: remain a silent prisoner of wolf law or unleash the monster within and reduce the pack to ashes.
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Chapter 1 of I'm Your Brother's Wife Dear Ace

Lyra

He pinned me against the cold stone wall. His touch was surprisingly gentle, but his body was a cage of heat, trapping me in the shadows of the corridor.

As he leaned in, his breath brushed against the shell of my ear, sending a traitorous shiver down my spine.

I forced my face into a mask of stone, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear.

"I know you can feel it," Ace murmured, his voice a low, predatory growl.

He shifted closer, his nose skimming my temple.

"I can smell how your body reacts to me, Lyra. I can smell exactly how much you want me."

The arrogance in his tone made my blood boil, but I remained still. He knew this was a sin. He knew I belonged to Alpha Draven.

He knew I was his brother's wife.

I drew in a sharp breath, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

I needed to leave before a guard or a roaming servant noticed us.

Mustering every ounce of strength, I shoved against his chest. He didn't budge at first, but when I met his gaze with a look cold enough to draw blood, he finally stepped back, a smirk dancing on his lips.

I didn't say a word, I didn't need to.

I turned and fled, my heels clicking sharply against the stone until I reached the hollow safety of my chambers.

As the heavy doors clicked shut, the composure I had spent years perfecting finally shattered.

I collapsed onto the silk sheets, my lungs burning as I finally released the air I'd been holding. Closing my eyes, the shadows of the room seemed to shape into the memory of another prison: My father's house.

It had all started there.

Years ago, the pack grounds had been filled with the sounds of shifting, the sickening crack of bone and the triumphant howls of young wolves.

I stood on the sidelines, a small, fragile figure watching the other girls shift and embrace the earth.

"Oh, my Lyra. You didn't shift." My father rushed toward me. At first, his hands were warm as he wrapped them around my shoulders.

"Don't worry, darling. Maybe today is not your day."

As the Alpha, it must have been a humiliation to have a wolfless daughter, yet he carried me back to the house with the care one might give a treasure. But the moment the front door closed, the warmth vanished. He dropped me onto the floor as if I had suddenly turned into a viper.

"What a waste," he snapped, his voice echoing in the foyer.

"Daddy?" I reached out, my voice trembling.

"Don't call me that, you useless thing."

He bent down to my level, his face twisted in a deep frown. He assessed me, his eyes scanning me like a merchant inspecting flawed goods. He reached out, twining a strand of my silver-blonde hair around his finger.

"Listen, girl. You are not allowed to speak. Never. You are a waste of an Alpha's blood."

A slow, mischievous smile spread across his face as he took in my pale, glowing skin and the soft gray-blue of my eyes. "But you are the most beautiful she-wolf I have ever seen. Even at five years old, you look like... this."

He tugged on my hair, forcing me to look at him.

"You are only alive because of your beauty. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I sobbed, tears slipping down my cheeks.

"For the Moon's sake, I said don't talk!" He sighed in frustration, the sound making me flinch.

"Maya!"

The housekeeper appeared instantly.

"Lock her in her room," my father commanded.

"Make sure she stops crying. I don't want those eyes swollen or her beauty ruined. I need it."

Maya carried me upstairs and dropped me onto my bed. I buried my face in the pillows, weeping for the wolf I didn't have and the father who didn't love me.

"Why didn't I shift?" I wailed. "Dad hates me because I didn't shift!"

"At least you are alive," Maya sneered, hovering by the door.

"You should be grateful to him. Stop crying before you ruin the only valuable thing you have."

I nodded, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. A desperate, childish thought took root in my mind: If I keep looking pretty and stay silent, maybe daddy will love me.

I spent the next thirteen years in that room. I was eighteen now, and the walls had become my entire world. The only people I saw were the maids who brought my food and applied expensive oils to my skin. My father visited occasionally, standing in the doorway to inspect his "gem."

"You look ethereal, Lyra," he would say, his eyes gleaming with greed.

"But not beautiful enough yet. If I keep you hidden for a few more years, your value will double."

I hated that beauty, but I clung to it. As long as I was useful, I was okay.

One afternoon, the door swung open, but it wasn't my father. A team of maids marched in carrying a long, silk red gown that glittered like dragon scales. They bathed me in rose water and began the silent ritual of my transformation.

"She doesn't even need the makeup," one maid whispered, brushing my silver hair until it shone like moonlight.

"How can anyone be this beautiful?" another murmured.

"Enough," Maya barked, silencing them. She beckoned to me.

"Let's go."

My heart soared. I was finally going out. I wanted to smile, to laugh, but I remained frozen, terrified that a single expression might anger my father.

When we reached the hall, my father rushed to my side.

"Look at my lovely daughter," he beamed. It was a lie, but for a second, I let myself believe it. He led me into a decorated dining hall, leaning in to whisper in my ear.

"Don't speak. Just smile, but not too wide."

The hope in my chest died.

I took my seat, keeping my gaze soft and gentle, hiding the pain behind my gray-blue eyes.

"Alpha Kael, are you sure she's your daughter?" a man at the end of the table asked, his eyes wide.

"She is," my father lied smoothly.

"Yes, she is, though she's wolfless the Moon Goddess blessed her with Ethereal beauty, sometimes I wonder if she is my daughter, but I watched her coming out of her mother" he smiled,

"I would love to marry her," the man, Alpha Lucien, blurted out. He looked at me, then back to my father, but my father chuckled,

"Though she is wolfless, the Moon Goddess blessed her with ethereal beauty. I would love to marry her off, but she is young, and I want her to choose her husband herself."

I kept the plastic smile on my face. I know the game now. I was the lure.

"That property in the East you wanted? It's yours. For free. I have more land than I know what to do with."

My father gasped, feigning shock.

"I couldn't possibly....."

"I insist," Lucien bragged, desperate to impress the silent doll at the table.

This became my life. Every few months, a new Alpha would arrive. I would be dressed, bathed, and sat at a table while my father traded my silence for land, gold, and power. Word spread like wildfire: the Wolfless Princess was the most beautiful creature in the world, and she was waiting for a mate.

I turned twenty-one in silence.

The morning of my birthday, the maids were more frantic than usual.

They dressed me in white lace and pearls. When I reached the dining room, my father didn't wait for the guest to speak.

"Meet your husband, Lyra," he said, gesturing to a man I had never seen.

"You are getting married tomorrow." I froze.

My heart felt like it was breaking through my ribs. Husband? Tomorrow?

I looked at my father, my eyes pleading for the choice he had promised the world I had. But I saw the truth in his cold, calculating stare.

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