Contracted Assassin, Daring Luna

Two hours to the wedding of the decade, the door to Ophelia's room opened, and her aunt and uncle barged in, panting for breath.

"She has disappeared! Lyra has chosen to shame us all in front of the entire nation. Oh, this will result in a pack war, and we will all be slaughtered by that vicious Alpha, oh..."

The older woman fell to the cold floors dramatically, and Ophelia took a step back, her heart pounding as she hid the knife in her hand. 

Had they seen the fresh bruise on her arm?

Within a second, her uncle rushed towards his wife, holding her hands in consolation.

"Don't worry, we will find her before the wedding, and if we don't, we'll just get someone to replace her temporarily."

As soon as he said those words, the woman who had never been kind to her niece turned to Ophelia, her eyes glinting.

"Everyone knows that the Alpha of Night Hunters' pack is getting married to Miss Storm. You are not exactly as pretty as my daughter, but you will do. Turn around."

What?

Ophelia's brows were drawn together in confusion, her brain barely able to take in the information within a minute.

"I...I don't understand." She spoke for the first time, her voice soft and confused.

But when Amelia Storm put her mind to something, it was impossible to refuse her.

And so the moment she stood and started walking around her niece, Ophelia knew she was doomed.

"Petite, submissive omega. Face too small, skin too pale, but some make-up can even turn a pumpkin into a watermelon. You will replace your cousin and get married to Alpha Xavier Valcourt."

Hell no!

The rogue Alpha who had been exiled from the country at eighteen and suddenly returned with an army of security behind him?

Ophelia's mind gathered all the information she had heard about him, her lips trembling as she blurted out,

"He...He will know that I'm not Lyra, and he...will feel deceived and come after you."

However, she was met with disappointment when her aunt, Amelia Storm, stepped closer to her, tipping her chin upwards.

"No, darling. He never met her, the marriage was decided last night, and all he knows is Miss Storm. Now, get ready..."

No way in hell was she going to get married to some brute, not after all she had done to be free of this cage of a house.

With desperation clinging to her creamy skin, Ophelia fell on her knees, clasping her palms together.

"N...no, please, I can't." She shook her head repeatedly, but her aunt placed a palm on her protruding collarbones, squeezing hard.

"Do I need to remind you of what will happen to your beloved grandmother if you don't agree to this?"

The young Omega's heart sank, and her aunt nodded, knowing she had her,

"See? That wasn't so difficult. Now, chop chop, get dressed, and keep your mouth shut about where you work."

If only she knew half of it.

***

She was panicking. 

Thirty minutes to the ceremony, Ophelia sat before the mirror like a lifeless doll, her face covered in make-up, a tear rolling down her cheeks.

"Hey, careful! You don't want to ruin the dress and your face, I spent an hour covering those ugly freckles."

The make-up artist who had dressed her in a heavy ball dress sounded irritated, muttering something about classless omegas.

However, Ophelia couldn't even hear her beneath the loudness of her own thoughts, her heart heavy.

If only she hadn't made a mistake last night, she would have escaped with her sick granny to another place.

But now, she was once again at the mercy of her greedy uncle and aunt who would sign the consent form to have her grandmother off the life support if she refused them.

As the thought of last night slipped into her mind, her teary brown eyes darted to the bandaid she had placed over her scar...

"Come on, let's not keep the guests waiting." The wedding planner called from the door. 

It was time to get married against her will.

With a heavy heart, Ophelia Storm stood, almost stepping on the dress and falling on the floor, but that only made the make-up artist scoff. 

"Be careful with that dress. A stripper would know nothing about handling an elegant wedding dress, would she?"

Although her heart burned with hatred for everyone and everything, Ophelia swallowed it all, walking out of the basement where she had lived like a servant. 

She was halfway through the expansive hallway when she caught sight of her aunt walking past hurriedly.

With the futile hope of pleading with her one last time, Ophelia lifted her silver ball dress and ran after the woman.

"Aunt Amelia, Uncle Steve..." 

They cornered to the guest room, and she followed, about to go in with them when she heard a deep familiar voice,

"A hundred million dollars has been wired to you. I hope you know the consequences if you disappoint my Alpha."

Wait, what?

"Don't worry, beta. Your Alpha will like what we have for him. This one is a submissive omega, and will do anything to keep her vegetable grandmother alive. I'll send the doctor's number to him."

Her uncle's voice sent a series of emotions within her, one after the other.

Fear, 

Pain, 

And shame. 

This was no simple arranged marriage. She had been sold like a pack of goods to an Alpha that was renowned for controlling the lycan government from the shadows.

With fresh tears gathering in her eyes once again, Ophelia managed to tiptoe out of there and staggered into the hallway, where she was met with the frantic wedding planner.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Everyone is waiting, and the Alpha just came in." 

Feeling empty, like a useless puppet, Ophelia walked down the aisle, struggling to keep the tears out of her eyes.

However, the moment she got to the end of the aisle, a familiar powerful fragrance forced her to look up.

That was when she was met with those alluring grey eyes she had gazed upon last night. 

Alpha Xavier Valcourt was High Target 10, the Alpha she had been sent to assassinate last night and failed. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!