To Be My Alpha's Stand-In Mate

Her head tilted slightly, her sharp gaze studying my face as if piecing together a puzzle.

"I’ve been meaning to say this since we first met—don’t you think we look strikingly alike, little sister?" she said, her voice dripping with mockery.

Shock rippled through me, and my breath caught in my throat. My eyes darted to the nearby mirror, unable to stop myself from comparing us. At first glance, the resemblance was undeniable — the same hair, the same eyes, even the tilt of her jaw mirrored mine.

Humiliation and fury churned in my gut. It had always stung to know I was nothing but a substitute in Damien’s life. But realizing I had been groomed to look like Kaia, the real object of his affection, shattered something deeper inside me.

Under her triumphant gaze, I felt my composure crack. My wolf stirred uneasily, sensing my distress. Unable to bear her presence any longer, I turned and fled.

Back in the private dining room, the warmth of my colleagues gradually thawed my icy blood. Their laughter and kind words almost helped me forget the sting of Kaia’s taunt. But just as I began to set the encounter aside, the door swung open with a forceful thud.

Damien stood there, his eyes scanning the room until they locked onto mine. For a moment, he froze, his expression a storm of restrained fury. Without a word, he clenched his fists and barked my name, demanding I follow him outside.

Confused, I obeyed, only to be met with a sharp slap in the dimly lit corridor.

It was the first time he had ever hit me.

I stared at him, disbelief and hurt coursing through me. But there was no guilt in his eyes, no regret—only raw anger.

"Why did you push Kaia?" he growled. "You knew she had a twisted ankle! I told you I’d explain everything when we got back, but you couldn’t wait, could you?"

The sting of his words hurt almost as much as the slap.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kaia hobbling toward us. Her shirt was rumpled and stained, her movements deliberately slow and pitiful. As I opened my mouth to defend myself, she suddenly stumbled and fell with an exaggerated gasp.

Damien immediately pushed past me to reach her, cradling her trembling form in his arms. His touch was tender, his voice filled with concern.

"I told you I’d bring her over to apologize," he said to Kaia. "Why did you leave the room?"

Kaia shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. "It’s not a big deal. She didn’t mean to hurt me. Don’t be so hard on her," she whispered, her words a feigned plea for mercy.

Her gaze flicked at me, but her tone softened as she added, "If her brother finds out you hit her, it might hurt the alliance between you two."

At the mention of my brother, Kirst, Damien’s expression faltered briefly, but his resolve quickly returned.

"Her brother entrusted her to me," he said firmly. "It’s my responsibility to correct her when she’s wrong."

A bitter laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. "Wrong? What exactly did I do wrong, Damien? Even in a pack trial, there’s evidence before passing judgment. But here you are, convicting me without proof. Is this how you lead your pack?"

His jaw tightened, his fists clenched. "There were no cameras in the restroom, Thalia. You knew that and thought you could get away with it."

I stared at him, stunned by his blind conviction. "No cameras?" I scoffed. "Then how can you be so sure it was me?"

"Why would Kaia lie?" he snapped. "She’s not that kind of person."

"And I am?" My voice trembled with the bitterness of betrayal.

Seven years. Seven years I had stood by Damien’s side, through every storm and triumph. Yet in the face of Kaia’s tears, all those years meant nothing. Her word alone outweighed everything we had built.

Realizing there was no point in arguing further, I turned away. "Believe whatever you want," I muttered, my voice hollow.

Damien’s angry voice followed me as I walked away, ordering me to stay. But I didn’t look back. The mark of his slap still burned on my cheek, a cruel reminder of my place in his world.

Returning to the dining room wasn’t an option. I didn’t want to ruin the mood for my colleagues, who had been nothing but kind to me. Instead, I went to the front desk, settled the bill, and sent them a message:

"Something urgent came up. Enjoy the meal and drinks—it’s on me."

With that, I left, the weight of the night pressing heavily on my shoulders.