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.

---

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.

Alicia’s POV

I met Stephen years ago, when he was still only the heir to the Alpha throne. That night at the banquet, surrounded by glittering gowns, heavy crowns, and the scent of power, he stood out to me like the moon in a dark sky. He wasn’t my fated mate—my wolf never howled at the sight of him, never tugged at my chest the way legends said she should—but he looked at me as if I were already his.

And when he came to me, when his voice wrapped around me like velvet, I believed every word he whispered.

“You may not be my fated one, Alicia,” he had said that night, his hand brushing mine beneath the tablecloth. “But I will love you like you are. I’ll make vows stronger than any string of destiny. I’ll never lie to you, never break your heart. You will be my Luna, my only one.”

All those promises. All those sacred words. And now, they were nothing but ashes.

That morning, I woke feeling sick. My head throbbed, and my body felt heavy as if my wolf was curled deep inside me, refusing to stir. Three weeks into the pregnancy, my body was already shifting, straining to hold the tiny life growing inside me. My schedule for a checkup had arrived, and I knew I couldn’t delay.

When Stephen—no, William—came to check on me, his eyes softened. “How’s the pup doing?” he asked, crouching down beside the bed. His voice was tender, gentle. Too gentle.

“I feel… weak,” I admitted, pressing a hand to my belly. “I need to go to the hospital.”

“Then I’ll go with you,” he said quickly, almost too quickly. His hand covered mine. “You’re carrying my brother’s heir. The next Alpha. I will not let anything happen to you.”

For a heartbeat, my wolf stirred. For a heartbeat, I wanted to believe him.

But then the doors creaked open.

Sophia entered, draped in pale silks that made her look fragile, almost ethereal. She swayed as she walked, her hand pressed against her forehead, lips trembling as if each breath was too heavy to bear. “Alpha…” she whispered, her voice weak, thin, calculated.

I stiffened.

Stephen’s attention snapped to her instantly, the warmth in his gaze toward me evaporating like mist under the sun. “Sophia,” he said, rushing to her side before I could even process it. His hand caught her elbow, steadying her as though she were the most precious thing in the world. “What’s wrong?”

She blinked up at him, pale cheeks flushed with just the right amount of color. “I… I don’t feel well. I think… I might collapse.”

For a fleeting second, his gaze flickered toward me. Something unreadable flashed in his eyes, hesitation, guilt, maybe even sorrow. But it was gone in an instant.

Sophia whimpered, leaning more heavily against him. “Alpha, please… don’t leave me. I feel like something is wrong.”

His arm wrapped around her, shielding her from a pain she probably didn’t even carry. And then his words came, sharp, cold, final.

“I’ll take Sophia to the hospital first. You can manage your checkup without me. You understand, don’t you?”

In the end, I went to the hospital alone. My legs shook beneath me as I walked the sterile halls, my wolf pacing restlessly in my chest, snarling at his abandonment. The nurse led me into the ultrasound room, and when the grainy image of my child flickered on the screen, tears spilled from my eyes.

A tiny bean. So small. So fragile. But alive.

My heart swelled with a love so fierce it nearly broke me in two.

Later, I sat in the hospital lounge, staring blankly at the television. A concert blared across the screen, music vibrating through the speakers. I found myself humming softly, trying to distract my wolf from the gnawing ache in my chest.

And then the camera panned to the audience. To the couples swaying hand in hand, faces lit with joy.

My humming died.

My eyes narrowed, my breath catching.

There they were. Stephen and Sophia. Featured as a couple, spotlight and a camera were pointing at them.

Then they tried to cover their faces, as if the cameras wouldn’t notice. But I noticed. The way his hand lingered on her back, the way her head tilted toward his shoulder.

I couldn’t believe it.

Sophia wasn’t sick. She was dancing. Smiling. Enjoying the world while I sat in a cold hospital chair with his heir growing inside me.

My stomach churned. Rage and grief mixed in my veins until I could barely breathe.

Hours later, on the drive back to the pack, my phone buzzed. A message. From Sophia.

I hesitated before opening it, but curiosity clawed me open.

It was a picture.

Her in the backseat of a car. Stephen’s arm wrapped around her waist, her head on his lap, both of them flushed and tired but glowing from joy.

My chest constricted as though claws had raked through it. My wolf howled in agony, her voice breaking into a thousand shards.

I pressed a hand to my mouth, stifling a scream.

When I reached the packhouse, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I called him. Desperately. My fingers shook, my wolf crying out to him.

Pick up. Please, pick up. I’ll forgive you. Just tell me it’s not true. Just tell me you’re mine. I’ll give you another chance. Moon Goddess, I’ll give him a thousand chances if he just comes back.

And then—he answered.

My breath hitched in relief. But what I heard shattered me beyond repair.

Moans. Soft, breathless, intimate sounds. A woman’s laughter. A man’s groan.

“Stephen,” Sophia’s voice gasped, raw and unrestrained.

The call ended.

And so did my world.

That night, I didn’t change out of my pajamas. I didn’t think. I simply walked back to the hospital, numb, my wolf silent and broken inside me. At the counter, my voice came out hoarse.

“I want to abort the pup,” I whispered. “Three weeks old.”

---

When morning came, I returned to the packhouse hollow, my body aching from sleeplessness. He was waiting at the table, a plate of breakfast prepared.

“Alicia,” Stephen—William—smiled. “I made your favorite. You should eat. For the baby.”

I walked past him without a word.

But his hand caught my elbow. The same hand that had touched Sophia, held her waist, stroked her skin. My stomach turned.

“You need to take care of yourself,” he said softly. “You’re carrying my brother’s heir. The future Alpha.”

I yanked my arm away, bile rising in my throat. “Don’t touch me.”

I climbed the stairs, my steps heavy, only to stop at the sight before me.

Sophia.

She stood there, radiant, glowing in full glamor. No trace of illness in her skin, no fragility in her stance. She was dressed as though she were the Luna already, basking in stolen glory.

She smirked when she saw me.

“You know, I purposely sent you that picture,” she said lightly, walking closer. “I wanted you to see it. I also answered Stephen’s phone that night. I wanted you to hear.”

My wolf snarled, but my body was frozen.

She leaned close, her perfume choking me. “I’m not sick, Alicia. I’ve never been dying. I faked it. I did it to get time with him, to make him mine again. And now, I will use every one of these months to seduce him, to mark him. To bind him to me forever.”

My vision blurred with tears. “You’re lying.”

She laughed, cruel and sharp. “Am I? He’s already married to me. Look.”

And she held up her hand. On her finger gleamed a moonstone ring. Larger, brighter, more extravagant than the one Stephen had meant for me.

“This is better, don’t you think?” she whispered. “After all, Stephen was always mine. And he always will be.”

Alicia’s POV

The invitation came on heavy parchment, sealed with silver wax stamped in the ancient crest of the Lycans. My hands trembled when I held it. The Lycans were the most elusive of our kind, rare, powerful, ancient. They did not mingle, they did not host, they did not waste their time on gatherings. For centuries they had kept to their own kind, observing us from a distance.

And yet, here was an invitation.

I knew why. The Thorndike Pack, my father’s pack, had always maintained a careful, respectful alliance with them. And as his daughter, I was expected to appear.

Still, my wolf stirred uneasily when I thought of it. Because I knew Stephen—William—would be there. The Alpha of Varrenhare Pack could hardly ignore such a summons, and of course he would drag Sophia to his side, playing the role of the doting husband.

My wolf snarled in my chest.

That night, I slipped into a gown unlike anything I had worn since Stephen’s death—or supposed death. Midnight silk clung to my body like water, hugging my curves, the back plunging low to reveal smooth skin that shimmered in moonlight.

The Lycans’ gathering was held in a great hall carved from stone, torches casting silver flames along the walls. Their aura filled the air, ancient, heavy, suffocating. Wolves hushed in reverence as the Lycans moved, silent and poised, their eyes glowing faintly even in human form.

When I entered, heads turned. My wolf lifted her chin, and I did the same.

I felt his eyes before I saw him.

Stephen.

His jaw slackened, his eyes drinking me in as if I had stolen the air from his lungs. For a heartbeat, the mask of “William” slipped, and I saw him—my Alpha, the one who had once promised to love me like fate itself.

Then Sophia’s hand curled around his arm, her lips trembling, her body pressing into his as if she were too weak to stand. The lie was disgusting, but he let it hold him. He didn’t move toward me.

I tore my gaze away.

The night proceeded with the usual pleasantries, exchanging words of respect, bowing heads to the Lycans who rarely showed themselves. But as with all wolf gatherings, tradition demanded more than pleasantries.

Two Alphas stepped forward to duel. They shed their clothes and shifted into massive wolves, snarls shaking the hall as their paws scraped the stone. Excitement rippled through the crowd, and the bidding began.

Wolves wagered gold, furs, jewels. Betas pushed forward heirlooms, warriors placed blades. Voices rose in a frenzy of competition.

And then my voice cut through them.

“I will bid,” I said.

All eyes turned to me.

From my clutch, I pulled it out—the bloodstained moonstone ring. The ring that Stephen had meant to give me the night of the cliff. The one I had found lying in blood, pressed against my palm as I wept.

Gasps echoed through the hall.

“This,” I said, holding it high, my voice steady though my chest ached. “The engagement ring of my deceased fiancé. The Alpha who was meant to be my mate. I offer this to the fight.”

The weight of my words sank into the silence. I felt Stephen’s eyes on me, burning, his fury trembling through the bond we once shared.

I didn’t care.

I placed the ring on the table for the weaker Alpha. The crowd roared in disbelief. To wager something so precious on someone destined to lose was madness. And that was the point.

The fight began, claws clashing, fur bristling.

And as expected, the weaker Alpha fell. The crowd erupted, the victor howled, and my ring was claimed.

I smiled. Chin high, heart bleeding, I turned and walked away.

The air shifted. He was there, blocking my path. Stephen—William—his face hard, his eyes blazing.

“Why did you do that?” he demanded. His voice was low, strained. “That was my brother’s ring. The symbol of his promise to you. How could you throw it away?”

I looked at him coldly, my wolf steady. “Because I’ve moved on. Your brother is dead. His promises are buried with him. The ring means nothing now.”

His mouth opened, but no words came. For once, Stephen Varrenhare—the Alpha who always had an answer—was speechless.

I left him standing there.

But Sophia didn’t let me leave.

She caught me in the hallway, fury twisting her perfect features. “You bitch,” she hissed, shoving me hard against the wall. “You think you’re so clever? Acting like some sorrowful widow in front of everyone. Stealing their pity, their eyes.”

Her nails dug into my arm as she pushed me into a darkened room. The door slammed shut, the lock clicked.

The darkness closed in. No light. No air. No escape.

My chest tightened, panic clawing up my throat. Memories flooded back—ten-year-old me locked in the cellar, it was all hazy, scratching at the walls until my hands bled, screaming for someone who never came.

“No… no!” I gasped, clawing at the door. My wolf thrashed, but the walls closed tighter. The air vanished. The darkness swallowed me whole.

I collapsed.

When they found me nearly an hour later, I was limp on the floor, breath shallow, my dress damp with sweat.

And Stephen? Not a single call. Not a single message. Later I learned Sophia had told him I went out to grieve. And he believed her. Like an idiot.

---

When I returned to the packhouse, the sight that greeted me made my stomach lurch.

A crowd had gathered. Stephen’s parents, Sophia, and him. In the center stood Stephen, holding a set of papers.

My wolf bristled. Then I saw what they were.

Abortion documents.

My body froze.

“How dare you,” Stephen snarled, his eyes blazing. “How dare you destroy the heir of my brother?”

Laughter bubbled bitter in my chest. It was ridiculous. Even now? He was still pretending? Still clinging to this pathetic ‘William’ lie?

Sophia stepped forward, venom dripping from her lips. “You vile woman. You murdered an innocent pup. You never wanted that baby. You just wanted the excuse to play the grieving widow.”

My would-be mother-in-law’s hand cracked across my cheek. “Murderer!” she spat.

The room spun. The betrayal cut deeper than claws.

And then, Stephen’s hand followed. His slap resounded in the silence, and my head snapped to the side.

The sting burned, but my wolf didn’t whimper.

I straightened slowly, tasting blood on my lip. “Why are you so affected, William? Why do you care so much for a child that was never yours? You’re not my alpha. You’re not my fiancé. You’re nothing but his twin.”

His eyes blazed with denial, fury, pain he couldn’t hide.

I didn’t wait for his response. I turned to all of them—his mother, Sophia, the same people who judged me with sharp eyes.

“I am done,” I said coldly. “I want no ties to Varrenhare Pack. My love died with the bloody moonstone ring I wagered tonight. And with him, so did my heart.”

Silence fell. And I walked away.