Alpha’s Rebound: Married to His Stepbrother

The grand hall of the royal pack's mansion shimmered with opulence, its crystal chandeliers casting warm light on the elegant guests gathered for Princess Fraulein Anderson's birthday. The room buzzed with excitement, and yet I felt out of place. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror earlier that evening and hoped the midnight-blue gown I wore would impress Darius.

For five years, Alpha Darius Doyle had been my secret. Or maybe I was his. I couldn’t tell anymore. Our relationship had always been low-key—no public declarations, no formal introductions to his pack. Whenever I asked why, he’d brush it off, saying, “Not yet, Ingrid. Soon.”

Tonight, he insisted I come with him, but as I stood by his side, the reason for his secrecy became clearer.

The moment Princess Fraulein descended the staircase, her golden gown catching the light, Darius’s attention shifted. His gaze followed her every step, the admiration in his eyes unmistakable.

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. For years, I’d ignored the small voice in my head telling me I wasn’t enough for him. But now, as his eyes lingered on the princess, the truth was glaringly obvious.

The music started, filling the ballroom with a romantic waltz. Guests began pairing off, laughter and conversation blending with the melody.

I turned to Darius, expecting him to extend his hand toward me. Instead, he straightened his jacket and made his way across the room.

To her.

I watched in stunned silence as he approached Princess Fraulein. She smiled, her hand slipping into his as they joined the other dancers.

“Did you know they were together once?” a voice behind me whispered.

“Yes,” another replied. “Darius and Fraulein were inseparable. They say she was his first and only love.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My vision blurred as tears filled my eyes.

So this was why he kept me hidden. I was just a placeholder, a shadow compared to the radiant princess who had reclaimed his heart.

I couldn’t bear to watch them anymore—the way they moved together so effortlessly, so perfectly. I turned and fled, pushing past the crowd until I found myself in the garden.

The cool night air stung my cheeks as I stepped onto the stone pathway. Moonlight illuminated the neatly trimmed hedges and blooming flowers, but the beauty of the scene did nothing to soothe my aching heart.

I sank onto a bench, letting the tears fall freely. The years I’d spent loving Darius felt wasted, a cruel joke at my expense.

“Crying doesn’t suit you,” a voice said, breaking the silence.

Startled, I looked up to see a man standing a few feet away, holding out a handkerchief.

He was tall, with dark hair and sharp features. I didn’t recognize him, but there was something strangely familiar about his presence.

“Who are you?” I asked, hesitating before taking the handkerchief.

“Someone who knows you deserve better than to waste your tears on someone who treats you like a rebound,” he said, his tone calm yet firm.

My brow furrowed. “How do you know about that?”

He smirked, his piercing eyes meeting mine. “Because I know Darius better than you think.”

Confusion and curiosity swirled within me. “What’s your connection to him?”

He extended his hand. “Vincent Doyle. His stepbrother.”

Shock rendered me speechless for a moment. Darius had never mentioned a stepbrother.

“You’re his… stepbrother?” I finally managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.

Vincent nodded, his expression unreadable. “Yes. Though we’re hardly close. Darius has always been good at keeping secrets, hasn’t he?”

The bitterness in his tone was hard to miss.

I didn’t know what to say. My world had already been turned upside down tonight, and now this?

Vincent studied me for a moment before sitting down beside me. “You don’t have to do this, you know. Cry over him. Let him hurt you.”

I looked away, my hands gripping the handkerchief tightly. “What choice do I have? He’s gone back to her. I was just a distraction for him until he could have her again.”

“You have a choice,” Vincent said, his voice steady. “You don’t have to let him win.”

I turned to him, confused. “What do you mean?”

A small smile played on his lips. “I have a proposal for you.”

“A proposal?” I echoed, my brows furrowing.

“Yes,” he said, his tone serious. “Marry me.”

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap, leaving me stunned.

“What?!” I asked, certain I’d misheard him.

“Marry me,” Vincent repeated, his gaze unwavering. “Together, we can show Darius that he can’t treat people like pawns in his game. You’ll get the revenge you deserve, and I’ll get what I want.”