The Cursed Alpha's Secret Wolfless Bride

Galilea's POV:

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.

Harold broke it first. He rounded on his wife, face purple. "You told me she was my cousin's child! You lied to me for twenty years?"

Eleanor flinched, unable to meet his gaze. Her silence was confession enough.

Then his fury pivoted to me. "And you! After everything we've given you, you dare stand there and threaten us?"

A laugh escaped my lips, cold and humorless. "Given me? You gave me a borrowed name and a life of servitude. You raised me as a tool. Don't speak to me of gratitude."

I met his furious gaze without flinching. "I will marry Enzo Barnes. But not for the Thorne family. For myself."

I paused, letting the weight settle. "My price is ten million gold coins."

Eleanor gasped. Rosalie looked ready to faint.

"You're insane!" Harold's fist slammed down on his mahogany desk. "That's half our liquid assets!"

"It's the price of your silence," I countered. "The price of Rosalie's future. If you refuse, my first act as the future Luna Barnes will be to request a private audience with the Alpha King's mother. I will tell her everything. How the noble Thorne family picked up a wolfless stray and passed her off in a political marriage. How you deceived your Alpha. How you risked a strategic alliance on a girl with no name and no bloodline."

I let my gaze drift to Rosalie, now openly weeping. "I wonder how the royal family will feel about that. Do you think the Alpha Prince will still be so eager to court the daughter of such a deceitful house?"

Every word was a dart, striking at the heart of their ambition.

Harold stared at me, chest heaving. A businessman. A pragmatist. I could see the calculations behind his eyes—weighing the cost of the money against total social ruin.

In his mind, I was already dead. He was sending me to a monster who'd kill me within weeks, if not days. Once I was gone, the money—along with whatever compensation the royal family might offer for my tragic death—would be his to reclaim. Not a loss. A temporary investment.

I saw the shift in his eyes. Fury replaced by dark, predatory cunning. He thought he could outsmart me.

He straightened his jacket, expression morphing into one of grave sorrow. "Very well, Galilea. If that's what you feel you are owed, the family will provide it. Consider it a final parting gift."

He was lying. I saw the greed and contempt. But I didn't care. His motives were irrelevant.

"I want it deposited in a sealed trust with the Ironhold Vaults in the neutral territories," I said, retrieving a small, engraved token from my pocket. "Before the wedding. My associates will handle the collection."

The days that followed blurred—silent meals, locked doors. But on the morning of the wedding, as I sat alone in my room for the last time, a familiar static whisper brushed against my mind. Shadow. The Ironhold Vaults confirm receipt. Ten million gold coins, sealed under your token. It is done. I closed my eyes, letting the quiet satisfaction settle over me. The money was secure. My first war chest was armed.

The wedding itself was pathetic. A simple, cheap dress they'd provided. No ceremony. No guests. I was handed over to the Black Moon Pack like cargo.

Not a single member of the Thorne family came to see me off.

As the black car pulled away, I looked back at the grand house that had been my prison for two decades. Nothing. No sadness, no nostalgia. Just the cold, clean feeling of a debt settling.

In the study I'd just left, they were celebrating. Harold and Eleanor, toasting their cleverness. Rosalie, dreaming of becoming a princess. All certain they'd won.

I settled back into the leather seat, watching the city give way to wilderness. I closed my eyes and reached out with my mind—not to the Thornes, but to my true family.

Phoenix Knight. The funds are secure. Initiate Web Weaving protocol. Start in the capital.

Grim satisfaction settled over me. I was driving toward a monster's lair, into a future of violence and uncertainty. But for the first time in my life, I was not a victim.

I was a player. And I'd just funded my first move on the board.