BECOMING THE ALPHA 8TH WIFE

The smell of roasted herbs filled the air, soft and warm, surrounding Selene like a gentle hand, a warm welcome. She paused at the doorway, blinking at the small scene before her.Darius was bent over the little wooden table, placing down steaming bowls of food. A candle flickered between them, making his face glow in the low light.

Her lips parted. “You, you cook?” She shutters. Darius looked up, a shy smile tugging at his mouth. “Don’t sound so surprised. I can handle more than swords, you know.”

Selene laughed softly, though the sound caught in her throat. In all the years she had known him, he had never once cooked.

He was clumsy with even carrying bread, always saying it was beneath him. Yet here he was, sleeves rolled to his elbows, hair mussed as if he had fought a losing battle with the kitchen fire, and eyes full of something she rarely saw: nervousness.

“Sit,” he said quickly, almost too quickly, pulling a chair out for her. “It’s nothing special. Just, I wanted tonight to be different.”

Selene moved closer, her boots silent on the floorboards, and sat. She kept her eyes on him, curiosity prickling at her chest. He shifted, poured her wine, and sat across from her. For a moment, the world felt still, the usual storm inside her heart calming.

The first bite of food surprised her. It wasn’t perfect, not seasoned as well as her home meals or the ones she sometimes tasted at feasts, but it was made with care. And that was enough.

“Darius,” she whispered, lowering her spoon. “Why tonight? Why all this?”

He looked at her then, truly looked, as though memorizing her face. Then he pushed back his chair, slowly standing. Her breath husky when he reached into his pocket.

“Because,” he said, his voice low, shaking, “I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Selene’s heart stumbled, beating fast and hard.

Darius dropped down on one knee. The candlelight caught the silver band he pulled free, plain but shining. He held it up with both hands, his gaze steady even though his voice trembled.

“Selene Damaris,” he said, “will you marry me?”

The room seems to spin. Selene’s struggling to breathe, her fingers pressed to her lips. For a heartbeat, she could not speak. This, this was what she had dreamed of, what she had cried for on nights she thought he might never choose her.

“Darius,” Her eyes blurred with tears. “Yes. Yes, of course, I will!”

He laughed, the sound breaking with relief, as he slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly. She stared at it through her tears, the silver band trembling as her hands shook.

“Thank you,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against her hand. “I promise I’ll protect you. Always.”

Selene threw herself into his arms, clutching him tightly, her heart soaring higher than the moon outside. For the first time in years, she felt safe. She felt chosen.

That night, she walked home with the ring glinting on her finger, hidden under her sleeve but burning against her skin like fire. Every step felt lighter than air. She kept touching it, again and again, as if afraid it would vanish.

When she reached the gates of her father’s house, she expected the night to end with peace, with her dreaming deep about him, her head on her pillow. But instead, the air was heavy.

The guards bowed low as they opened the doors, eyes flicking with unease. Selene frowned. Her joy dimmed slightly. Inside, the lamps were lit, though it was late, shadows stretching long across the hall.

And there he was.

Lord Magnus Damaris sat at the head of the table, his face carved from stone. A scroll lay before him, tied with a ribbon of crimson wax.

Selene stopped. “Father?”

His eyes lifted to her, sharp and cold. “You are late.”

She swallowed, suddenly uneasy. “I, I was with Darius.”

“I know.” His voice was even, but each word cut. He tapped the scroll once. “And while you wasted your time, this arrived from the emperor.”

He slid it across the table. Selene’s hands trembled as she picked it up. She broke the seal and unrolled it, eyes darting across the words.

Her breath caught.

Marriage. The emperor had chosen her. She was summoned to the palace to become a concubine of the Alpha, his eighth wife.

“No” Her voice broke into a whisper. “No, this can’t be.”

“It is an honor,” her father said coolly. “One you will accept.”

Selene’s chest tightened, her hands clenching around the scroll until it crumpled. “But Father, Darius, he”

Magnus’s hand slammed the table. “Enough! Do you think your petty feelings matter before the Alpha? Before the emperor himself?”

Tears burned in her eyes. “But I love him. He just proposed. I said yes.”

“Foolish girl.” His lip curled. “Love is nothing. Power is everything.” "For you, that's why I was nothing but a chess piece to you," she replied. The dawn realization that she might lose Darius got to her.

Selene staggered back, shaking her head. “No, I can’t. I won’t.”

For the first time, another voice cut in. “Father.”

Liora stepped forward from the shadows. She wore a soft gown of pale blue, her golden hair loose over her shoulders, her face calm, too calm. Her blue eyes flickered to Selene, and for a heartbeat, Selene thought she saw pity.

“Let me go instead.”

The words fell like stones in water.

Selene turned, stunned. “What?”

Liora’s voice was gentle, almost sweet. “Selene isn’t suited for palace life. She’s too, delicate. But I can do this. I can serve the Alpha in her place. Let Selene have her little love.”

Magnus’s eyes narrowed, studying her. “And why would you offer such a thing?”

“Because,” Liora said smoothly, “I know what’s best for our family. If Selene goes, she’ll bring shame. If I go, I can win favor. Isn’t that what you want, Father?”

Selene’s mouth fell open. Her chest ached as though her heart had cracked. Liora, was protecting her?

Magnus leaned back, thinking. At last, he gave a slow nod. “Very well. Tomorrow, the palace will think you are Selene. You will take her place.”

Relief washed through Selene so strongly her knees nearly gave way. She turned to her sister, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Liora, I misjudged you. All this time, I thought you were heartless, but you—" She choked, grabbing her sister's hands. “Thank you. I’m so sorry for every harsh word. Please forgive me.”

Liora’s smile was faint, her fingers cool in Selene’s grasp. “Of course, sister. We all make mistakes.”

That night, the house was restless. Servants whispered as they packed clothes. Two daughters of Damaris left under the moonlight: Selene, the bride of her beloved Darius, and Liora, bound for the palace as the Alpha’s new concubine.

Selene leaned against the carriage window, her ring gleaming under the pale moon. She pressed her hand to her chest, whispering to herself.

“I am so lucky. So, so lucky.”

And for the first time, she believed it.