SUBSTITUTE BRIDE OF THE BLIND ALPHA

And if I could go back in time, I would stop your mother from choosing to save you instead of herself and Valeria. All we wanted was one child anyway.

It was my father’s mantra whenever he saw me out of place. I mean, when have I ever not been out of place? My existence was out of place for him.

“Come in,” I muttered, watching the omega step in with a basket of clothes. Dry, I presumed.

“H-Hello, Miss Viara. These are your freshly cleaned linens and clothes,” she stammered.

I walked over, peering into the basket. Pale pink linens. Valeria’s favorites. The kind that looked like rose petals and cost more than my entire wardrobe. Lace-trimmed dresses. Perfumed satin robes.

I sighed, fighting the wave of annoyance that threatened to envelope me. She must be new.

“These are Valeria’s,” I said flatly. “I don’t wear lace.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh— I-I’m sorry, the Head Maid said—”

“Yeah,” I cut in, voice flat. “I know what she said.” I picked up one of the robes, holding it between my fingers like it might burn me. “You can drop it off in her wing. Not mine.”

The poor omega nodded quickly, mumbled another apology, and scurried out like she’d been chased.

The basket stayed in my mind for a second longer, the scent of Valeria’s perfume clinging to my skin like mockery. My sister, the beloved one. The golden twin. The one who never got her hands dirty.

I used to wonder what it felt like to be her.

Then I learned.

I turned back to the cracked mirror above my desk. My voluminous, butt-length, jet-black hair needed brushing. I was sometimes called a witch because of how dark and long my hair was. My grey eyes had that constant tired haze, the kind that comes from fighting to be seen and still ending up invisible.

I was adjusting the strap of my worn top when the door banged open.

“Your father wants you,” the Head Maid snapped from the hallway. No title. No respect. Just barked words like I was a stray dog that wandered in. She was the same bitch who gave the omega the wrong linen as if trying to say no one remembers I exist.

Your father wants you. Almost sounded like he had finally accepted me. What a pipe dream.

I threw on the nearest cardigan as my laundry is nowhere to be found, not even bothering to match it. Let them see me as I was — the unwanted daughter. The leftover twin.

&~&~&~&~&&~&~&~&~&~&~

The walk to Father’s study felt longer than usual. Maybe it was the air. Or maybe it was the way the guards outside his door avoided my gaze like I was cursed. And honestly? I looked like one.

Worn cardigan, tangled hair, dragging my feet like the floor owed me something.

Stupid wolves.

“Go in,” one muttered without looking at me.

I pushed the door open.

Father sat at his desk, a thick black folder open in front of him. Valeria was already there — perfect posture, medium-length wavy blonde hair freshly styled, sitting like she belonged in a painting.

She didn’t meet my eyes.

Of course not. She never did when he was in the room.

She was also the reason people called me a witch — said I looked nothing like my twin.

But we did look alike. If you stripped away the glam, the polish, the upgrades.

She was older, prettier, and brighter. I was the failed duplicate. The darkness.

“You called?” I said, leaning against the doorframe, Ready to bolt the moment it got toxic, which it always did.

“Sit down,” Father said. No warmth. Just command. I dragged the chair out with a screech and flopped down, tugging the rubber band on my wrist until it snapped, just to anchor myself.

He flipped the folder open and slid a page across the table.

Enough for both Valeria and me to see.

Sometimes I wondered how my father was the Alpha of a whole pack. Like how he managed, well, everyone said he was a lot better when Mother was still alive.

“I’ve finalized Valeria’s marriage agreement,” he said. “The Moonbane Pack has accepted. The wedding is in four days.”

I blinked, furrowing my brows. “The Moonbane Pack? And since when is Valeria getting married?”

The name tasted like iron, forbidden.

“You can’t be serious,” I muttered in shock.

“I wasn’t asking,” he replied.

“But they say the Alpha is—”

“Blind?” he cut me off. “Yes. And dangerous. Which makes him the perfect match for our pack.”

“You’re marrying her off to a cursed Alpha like she’s cattle. Did you gamble again, Father? Is Valeria your price to pay?” I snapped.

His eyes flashed. “Enough.”

I stood, slamming my hands on the desk. “You’re sending her to her death! Based on the rumors, she won’t survive a week!”

A pause. Then…. Crack.

My cheek stung before I could even react. The world blurred for a second as ringing filled my ears. I blinked as my right eye burned.

Valeria’s fingers trembled slightly on her lap, the only sign she felt anything at all.

“I should’ve let your mother bleed out instead of saving you,” Father said coldly. “One child would have been enough. The right one.”

Silence swallowed the room.

Valeria’s fingers trembled slightly on her lap. That was the only sign she was affected.

I straightened slowly. “You’ll regret this,” I said. “She’s not strong enough to survive a cursed pack. And when she dies, you’ll only have me left.”

He laughed, low and bitter. “Don’t flatter yourself. If she dies, we all do. Now get out of my sight.”

I left without another word, the imprint of his slap burning hotter than my rage. Outside, I didn’t cry. I’d stopped crying years ago.

I just walked. Past the maids who whispered behind doors. Past the warriors who looked through me.

And all I could think about was this:

If this was how he showed love to Valeria, by sending her to her doom…

Then maybe I should take back every ounce of envy I ever felt.

My mind drifted back to my sister, who didnt even object for one, why was I getting so worked up? Maybe because I knew she would never find fault in whatever her father decides for her.

That's why she's his favourite.