My Alpha Faked His Death just to Marry Another She-wolf

My Alpha, Stephen Varrenhare, faked his death just to marry another she-wolf.

I mourned him. I shattered, drowning in grief, believing fate had stolen him before we ever reached the altar.

But then—he appeared. Or so I thought. A man walked into our pack, wearing Stephen’s face, his voice, his smile. I believed my Alpha had returned to me… until I learned the truth. He was not a twin. William Varrenhare did not exist.

It was all a cruel game. My Alpha never died. He staged his death to grant Sophia’s “last wish”—to marry her before she drew her final breath. But Sophia never died. She never even planned to. She only wanted him, and he gave himself to her willingly.

Betrayal cut deeper than claws. He lied. He took everything from me, even the child I carried, telling me our unborn pup was gone.

So I made my choice.

“Stage my death,” I told my Alpha father. If Stephen could watch me mourn him, then he will taste the same poison. He will mourn me. He will regret me.

And when I return from the ashes of my false grave… he will learn what it means to lose everything.

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Alicia’s POV

The moon has always been a witness to my life. I was born beneath it, bathed in its silver blessing, marked to be Luna one day. And tonight, I was supposed to stand on the moonlight cliff—the most sacred ground of the wolf territory—where my fiance, my Alpha, would slip the moonstone ring on my finger and claim me as his forever.

Alpha Stephen Varrenhare. My Stephen.

The title “Luna of Varrenhare” had never sounded so sweet as it did on that morning. I pressed a hand against my belly as I adjusted the soft silk gown I wore. A secret smile touched my lips. Everyone knew that inside me grew something precious… his heir. Three weeks old, no bigger than a fruit, but alive, a spark of our bond. A child born of the Alpha and Luna of two of the most powerful packs.

But the day that was meant to seal my happiness became the day that broke me.

I was in the car toward the cliff, the road winding with trees whispering against the wind, when the driver opened the radio, and it cut through with a trembling voice.

“Breaking news… The Moonlight Cliff has been attacked. The infamous Lycan Prince… the cursed one of the East… struck without warning. Reports confirm that everyone present at the cliff… is dead.”

My hands trembled. The car swerved slightly before as the driver pulled it steady, also shocked from what he heard. My heart hammered against my ribs. My throat tightened so badly I couldn’t breathe.

“No… no, no, no.” I shook my head, trying to force the words back into the radio, trying to undo them.

By the time we reached the cliff, the stench of blood filled the air. It wasn’t just death—it was desecration. Wolves had bled here, warriors of my pack. And in the middle of that crimson, glistening beneath the pale moonlight, lay the moonstone ring Stephen had promised me.

There was no body. Just blood. The wolves said the Lycan Prince must have thrown them into the depths below.

I fell to my knees, trembling, clutching the ring to my chest. My wolf howled inside me, keening in grief, her voice a hollow echo in the vast night. Tears blurred my vision. My hand pressed to my stomach instinctively.

I screamed until my voice cracked. I screamed until the moon itself must have heard me. And when my voice failed, I simply sat there, broken, the ring burning in my palm like betrayal.

A week later, the pack buried an empty coffin. Wolves from near and far attended, cloaked in mourning black. My heart still refused to believe. Some part of me hoped that Stephen would walk through the gates, smiling, apologizing for being late. But the coffin was lowered, and the ground swallowed what was left of my hope.

And then… he arrived.

A man stepped through the packhouse doors with the same stride, the same piercing gaze, the same face.

He called himself William—Stephen’s long-forgotten twin.

I had never heard of a twin. No one had. But there he stood, side by side with a woman, his wife, Sophia Brookefield. His voice was deeper, his smile strained, but gods, he looked like Stephen. My heart lurched painfully at the sight.

Coincidence, I told myself. Fate was cruel, but not cruel enough to dangle Stephen in front of me when he was gone.

Or so I thought.

It wasn’t until that night, after the funeral, when I wandered near the Alpha quarters, the quarters that were supposed to be mine, that truth spilled like poison into my ears.

Through the door, I heard voices. William’s… and my would-be mother-in-law’s.

“You should not have done this, Stephen,” she said, her voice breaking. “Faking your death… leaving Alicia pregnant and grieving. This is madness.”

My blood ran cold.

And then came the reply. His voice. My fiance’s voice.

“I had no choice, Mother. Sophia is dying. She begged me for this one thing… to be my wife before her last breath. I couldn’t turn my back on her. Not when she was once mine.”

I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to still the thunder of my heart.

“You left Alicia carrying your child,” his mother hissed. “You left her to mourn you, Stephen!”

“I’ll tell her the truth when Sophia’s gone,” he said, his tone heavy. “She’ll understand. Alicia is strong. Also, she won’t find out it’s still me because we aren’t mated yet. She wasn’t connected to my soul,” he paused then talked again, “She’s my fiance, she’ll forgive me.”

Forgive?

My knees nearly buckled. I had mourned him. I had died with him. And all this time, he was alive, pretending to be his own twin, lying to my face.

For her.

For his childhood sweetheart who had once abandoned him, only to return at death’s door.

A sob tore from my throat before I could stop it. I ran back to my room, clutching the moonstone ring so hard it cut my palm. I wanted to tear it from my skin, to fling it into the night, but my wolf held me back. She was torn, howling with rage and sorrow.

I grabbed my phone with trembling hands and texted my father, the Alpha of Thorndike Pack.

Father, I want to fake my own death.

The phone rang within seconds.

“Licia,” his deep voice rumbled, “what madness are you speaking? What has happened?”

And I told him. Every word. How Stephen had faked his death. How he had chosen Sophia over me. How he had left me to mourn him, left me pregnant and broken while he lived in another woman’s arms.

“I’ll make him taste his own medicine,” I whispered through tears. “If he can stage his death, then so can I. Let him lose me the way I lost him.”

There was silence on the line, then my father growled softly, “So be it. You rest. I will see to everything.”

When the call ended, a knock came at my door. My wolf stiffened. His scent seeped through, masked, altered, yet beneath the witch’s craft, I smelled him. Stephen.

I forced my face into calmness before opening the door.

He smiled faintly. “Alicia. You look pale.” In his hand was a glass of orange juice, my favorite. He set it on the table gently. “You should drink this. For you. For the baby.”

My chest ached. He even remembered that.

But I smiled back, brittle. “You care so much for me, William.”

He nodded earnestly. “Of course. You’re carrying my brother’s child. I must protect you.”

I tilted my head, studying him. “Funny. You even know my favorite juice. Are you sure you’re not my Alpha?”

His face blanched for a second before he recovered, chuckling nervously. “The maid told me. That’s all.”

“Really?” I whispered.

“Yes. Truly, Alicia. How could I be Stephen? We were… distinct.” His smile was forced, his lie sharp but practiced.

I wanted to claw his face off, to scream at him. Instead, I lifted the glass, pretending. “Thank you. I’ll drink it later.”

Before he could answer, another knock came.

“Love?” A woman’s soft voice drifted in. Sophia.

I froze.

His body tensed, torn between me and her. Then he turned, slipping his arm around her waist as she appeared, pale but smiling. My stomach twisted as I recognized the lingerie she wore, the same he had once gifted me for my birthday.

The sight seared into my memory. My Alpha. My betrayer.