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

Alicia’s POV

The sound of a knock pulled me out of my shallow sleep that night. My eyelids were heavy, raw from crying until dawn, but I sat up anyway. My wolf stirred faintly in my chest, restless, uncertain. The door creaked open before I could even answer.

“Licia,” a voice said, low and familiar.

It was William—or at least, that’s who I was supposed to believe he was. But my gut twisted every time I looked at him. His eyes didn’t carry the calm steadiness of William’s gaze. They burned too sharply, too much like Stephen.

He stepped into my chamber, his broad frame filling the doorway. He had the nerve to look weary, disheveled even, as if he were the one haunted by grief.

“I shouldn’t have done it,” he murmured, not meeting my eyes at first. His jaw clenched, his fists flexing at his sides. “I shouldn’t have… struck you. My anger got the best of me.”

I said nothing. My throat was still raw from swallowing back too many words.

He moved closer, voice low but clipped with controlled emotion. “I’m mourning the baby in my brother’s stead. You understand that, don’t you? Stephen would never want you to give up his pup. He would want me—his twin—to protect what’s his.”

My wolf bristled at the way he said protect. Protect? No. He was just lying before my face, even until now.

Still, I didn’t speak. I folded the blanket tighter around me and turned away, staring at the wall.

“Alicia,” he tried again, softer now, almost coaxing. “I regret it. You should rest.”

He reached forward, and before I could pull away, he tugged the blanket higher over me, tucking me in as though I were a fragile child. His hands lingered at the edge of the quilt.

“I heard you like it this way,” he said. His tone was oddly careful, as though he thought playing tender might erase the sting of his slap.

I bit down hard on my tongue until I tasted copper. He was still pretending. Pretending to be William. Pretending like he was dead. All for a damned woman.

When he finally left, the door clicked shut with a finality that made my chest ache. I lay awake for the rest of the night, staring into the dark, too numb even to cry.

The next morning, the walls of the pack house rattled with noise. I jolted awake to shouting, hurried footsteps, and the sound of Sophia’s sobs echoing down the corridor.

When I opened my door, I was met with accusing eyes. Wolf servants, warriors, even the elder maidens all stood gathered, whispering venom under their breaths.

“She burned them.”

“All of it—down to ash.”

“Even the rare herbs we struggled to find.”

My stomach dropped.

Sophia appeared then, draped in her pale robe, tears streaking down her face. She looked pitiful, like a wounded pup clinging to its mother. And yet, when her gaze met mine, there was a flicker, just a flicker, of triumph before she buried her face into the Alpha’s chest.

“She… I saw her,” Sophia wailed. Her voice cracked like that of a toddler’s tantrum. “I saw Alicia destroy my medicine with my own eyes.”

My lips parted in shock. “That’s a lie!” I shouted, but my voice was drowned by gasps, growls, and whispers.

The Luna mother turned on me, eyes wide with horror. “How could you? You attempted to end Sophia’s life by burning all her medicines? Evil child! Have you not done enough?”

Murderer. That was the word that floated around the hall. It clung to me like shackles.

I wanted to claw the truth out of Sophia’s throat. I wanted to scream until the roof caved in. But before I could, the Alpha—Stephen, wearing William’s name like a stolen pelt—raised his hand. The room fell silent.

His expression was grim, cold. “Lock her in her room. No food. No water.”

My wolf snarled in my chest, but I was frozen. Two servants grabbed my arms before I could move, their grips iron-strong.

Sophia’s sobbing grew louder, more dramatic. She clung tighter to him, shaking her head. “Please, Alpha… please don’t punish her. She’s grieving. She only lost her mate. She didn’t mean it. Don’t do this to her. I’m fine—we’ll find other herbs. Please, let her go.”

Her voice was gentle, saintly. The perfect act.

But Stephen’s jaw tightened. He looked down at her with mock concern, then back at me with stone eyes. “No, Sophia. Alicia must learn. Her behavior is dangerous, alarming. She wished to hasten your illness by destroying your medicines.”

My chest heaved with rage. “You liar!” I spat. “You know I didn’t touch them!”

“Take her,” he ordered.

I was dragged across the hall, kicking and thrashing, but the warriors were stronger. They slammed me into my chamber, locked the door, and left me in silence.

For two days, I had nothing. No food. No water. No one came.

The first night, I clawed at the door until my nails cracked. By the second, my throat was so parched I couldn’t scream anymore. My wolf whimpered inside me, weak from hunger.

I lay on the cold floor, trembling, seething. Tears burned hot down my cheeks.

I will make him pay.

I will make him feel tenfold the hunger, the helplessness, the rage he has made me feel.

It was the only thought that kept me alive.

On the second night, the lock clicked. The door creaked open.

Two wolf servants stood there, their faces stern. “Get up.”

I blinked at them, dazed. “What—”

“Alpha’s orders,” one said. “Sophia wants you to cook dinner.”

My body trembled as they dragged me down the corridor. My legs felt like sticks of brittle wood.

The kitchen reeked of firewood and raw meat. They shoved me toward the counter. “Cook,” they barked.

I swallowed hard. My stomach twisted painfully at the sight of food. My body wanted to collapse. But the warriors loomed close, ready to force me if I refused.

My hands shook as I picked up the knife, slicing vegetables, stirring broth. Every movement was heavy, hollow. The dishes I prepared were the ones I used to make for Stephen—meals he once praised with a smile that used to mean something.

Now, all I could taste was bitterness.

When the stew simmered and the roasted meat was plated, I caught my reflection in the pot’s surface. Hollow cheeks. Bloodshot eyes. A ghost of who I used to be.

And in that moment, I swore silently to myself:

This was not the end.

They could starve me, beat me, chain me. But I would not break.

And one day… he would learn what it meant to be locked in hunger.