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

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.