Stealing My Foolish Brother's Beautiful Bride

I was waiting at the freezing airport for my fiancé when my phone buzzed with a dashcam alert from my other car. Opening the app, I was paralyzed by the sight of my fiancé, Floyd, tangled in the backseat with my own sister, Charlotte. "Alexa is a wolfless failure. I'm only marrying her for the pack shares," he groaned on the screen. When I brought the damning footage back to the packhouse, expecting my uncle to punish their betrayal, he unleashed his Alpha aura on me instead. "To prevent a scandal, the engagement is hereby transferred to Charlotte," my uncle declared coldly, blaming me for risking their corporate alliances. My aunt sneered, telling me that if I walked out those doors, I would be nothing but a pathetic rogue who would die in the streets. I was the true heir to my late father's legacy, yet I was standing entirely alone in a house of thieves. But the agonizing betrayal didn't break me. It rapidly cooled, hardening into an impenetrable armor of ice around my heart. I had nothing left to lose, which meant I was free to destroy them. I packed my core trust fund documents and went straight to Alaric Maxwell—the terrifying, ruthless Lycan King who supposedly repulsed all physical touch. I offered him a clinical, fake marriage to crush my uncle, completely unaware that the apex predator had already set an inescapable trap to claim me as his forever.

My husband of three years suddenly brought his mistress and her son into our home. Without a hint of emotion, Jude threw a divorce agreement at me and told me to pack my things immediately so they could move in. I signed the papers and walked away without taking a single penny. But just hours later, a black SUV intentionally ran me over in a dark alley, shattering my leg. The men who did it sneered, saying their boss wanted me out of New York permanently. At the hospital, I was prepped for an emergency surgery to save my leg from permanent disability. But Jude, who owned the hospital, ordered my operating room shut down. He forced the entire surgical team to abandon me just to treat a minor cut on his mistress's finger. Lying there in agony, I couldn't understand how the man I had loved for three years could be so monstrous. He didn't just want to erase our marriage; he wanted to destroy my life completely. When I finally woke up after being saved by a friend, Jude was standing by my bed, trying to explain. I looked at him calmly and spoke. "I'm sorry, do we know each other?" I vowed right then that I would stay in New York and take back everything he owed me. And just a few hours later, his precious new son mysteriously disappeared.

I played the perfect, obedient trophy wife to billionaire Haiden Moran for three years. But the Monday after his grandfather's funeral, he coldly handed me divorce papers. He offered a massive payout, calling our marriage a "buyout of my time." I was never his wife, just a prop to secure his inheritance. That night, after a chaotic run-in at a club, he dragged me back to our penthouse. In a desperate, drug-fueled haze, we crossed the line. But when I woke up the next morning, covered in marks, his side of the bed was completely cold. He had snuck out like a thief. Seeking a final sliver of closure, I called his private number. A breathless, feminine voice answered instead. "Mr. Moran left his phone here. Oh, and I have his fresh shirt ironed and ready." My blood ran cold. He had left my bed and gone straight to another woman. My three years of devotion meant absolutely nothing. I permanently blocked his number, severed all our joint accounts, and booked a one-way first-class ticket to Maui to disappear forever. But just as the plane doors were about to close, a man walked down the aisle and casually sat in the seat right next to mine. It was Haiden.

"Not guilty." With those two words, my husband, the Alpha, acquitted his mistress of poisoning my mother. I had the toxicology reports. I had the receipts. But Garrison didn't care. He looked me in the eye, his hand resting possessively on Keyla's back, and told me to stop making a scene. That was just the beginning of my hell. He moved Keyla into our master suite and forced me into the servant's quarters. "Since you can't give me strong pups," he sneered, "you can serve those who do." I became the maid in my own home, washing Keyla's silk lingerie while she wore my Luna robes. When I tried to fight back, he used the Alpha Command to silence me and locked me in a room filled with silver dust that burned my skin like acid. He even drugged me and offered me to a rival Alpha just to secure a timber deal. He thought he had broken me. He thought I was just a weak Omega who would eventually fade away. But he forgot that my mother taught me everything about poisons. On the night of the yacht party, I didn't just jump into the dark ocean to escape. I jumped to be reborn. I flushed my wedding ring, severed the bond, and let the icy water swallow Janette the victim. Garrison thought I was dead. He didn't know that the ocean wouldn't kill me. It would awaken my true bloodline. And when I came back, I wasn't his wife anymore. I was a White Wolf, and I was going to burn his pack to the ground.

I was eight years old when my father, Alpha Derek, raided the rogue bunker to save my mother. I thought I was finally safe. But because I reeked of the wolfsbane chemicals used to hide my scent, my mother looked at me with pure disgust. "Get that thing away from me! It smells like him!" she shrieked. To protect his traumatized mate, my father didn't check my DNA. He threw me into the garage to sleep on oily rags. For months, I was the true Alpha's daughter, yet I was forced to eat dog food while they pampered a fake orphan named Kylie in my place. When Kylie ordered the guard dog to tear my arm open, my mother stood at the window. Instead of saving me, she let the maid close the curtains so she wouldn't have to see the blood. I only became useful when my father got into a critical car crash. They drained my rare "Moon Blood" to save his life, then immediately signed papers to ship me off to a labor camp to get rid of the "stain" on their family. They thought I was a dirty rogue. They didn't know the chemical smell was masking the rarest bloodline in a century. I am not a rogue. I am a White Wolf. And just as my grandfather discovers the DNA results and falls to his knees in regret, the most powerful pack in the North has already arrived to claim me as their queen.

One moment, I was crossing the street, holding my fiancée Olivia' s hand, laughing about our future. The next, a careening black sedan was aimed right at her. There was no time to think; I pushed her to safety, taking the hit myself. I woke up three years later, my face a ruin, my body a stranger to me. But the real horror began when I saw Olivia on TV-a celebrity, crying beautiful, convincing tears about her supposedly devoted fiancé, who she visited "every day." She even fooled me, lying there paralyzed in my hospital bed, while I dreamed of returning to her. After grueling surgeries and therapy, I went home to surprise her. Instead, I found her celebrating with my best friend, Mark, who confessed they' d let my frail mother "waste away" and seized all my assets. My mother, gone. My home, desecrated. The woman I saved, the friend I trusted, had systematically destroyed everything I loved, believing I was a "vegetable." My world shattered again, replaced by a burning desire for vengeance. I was no longer the man I used to be. I was a ghost, returned to reclaim what was mine and make them pay.