The Alpha's Forgotten Bride

Isla’s Pov 

“Don't embarrass me at the party we are going to, Isla. I won't tolerate any mistakes from you, got that?” Lucien, my husband and Alpha of Red Ridge Pack, stood behind me, staring at my reflection in the mirror with such hatred that I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. 

“O… Of course.” I stammered. 

Without another word, Lucien turned around, and went downstairs. My heart was beating so fast that I thought I had just finished running a race. For three weeks now, Lucien had been on edge. Why? My younger sister, Arielle, had gone missing. No matter how many people had been deployed to find her, she still hasn't been found. And on top of that, Lucien still had to attend the charity ball with me. 

I bit my lips as I walked downstairs slowly. Lucien had never liked me, in fact, he was forced to get married to me and I knew that. The person he truly loved was my younger sister, however, she had gone abroad months before Lucien and I got married. As the wedding had already been set, I had to get married in her place. 

I've liked Lucien for years, ever since we were in college, but I kept my feelings hidden because of Arielle. Despite the fact that I wasn't the one he was supposed to get married to, I was still happy when I took Arielle’s place. Unfortunately… I clenched my fists. 

He hated me the most. He felt like I had snatched Arielle's position and that's why he never marked me, never touched me, never slept in the same room as me. 

“Get in, you're wasting my time.” When I got to the car, he bellowed, kicking the door open and pulling me roughly inside. I yelped, but shoved down the scream of pain that was about to erupt in my throat when my head collided with the top of the car. 

“Drive.” Lucien ordered without even looking at me. 

The ride to the charity ball was suffocating. Lucien didn’t spare me a single glance, his attention fixed on his phone as his jaw clenched with every passing minute. I sat beside him, stiff and silent, willing myself not to cry. I didn’t want to ruin my makeup, he hated that too.

When we arrived at the venue, the mansion was already alive with the hum of soft music and the murmur of rich laughter. Photographers snapped pictures of guests as they walked up the crimson carpeted steps, and Lucien, always the perfect public figure, slipped seamlessly into his charming mask.

But not with me.

The moment we stepped inside, his hand dropped from my waist like I was diseased. Without so much as a word, he turned and disappeared into a group of well-dressed men at the far end of the ballroom. I stood there alone, my hands trembling slightly as I smoothed my wine-red gown, Arielle’s favorite color.

I caught a few people looking at me, whispering behind their champagne glasses. It was no secret that Lucien, my husband, abhorred me. The whole pack knew. The whole damn city knew.

I tried to hold my head high, wandering toward a quiet corner to gather myself, but I wasn’t alone for long.

“Well, if it isn’t the discarded bride of the Beta.” A sharp voice said behind me, laced with cruelty. I turned to find three women dressed in glittering gowns, their eyes gleaming with amusement and venom.

“It takes guts to show your face here, Isla.” Another one added with a sickeningly sweet smile, “We all know Lucien only brought you because he had to.”

I swallowed hard, willing myself to walk away, but one of them stepped forward, blocking my path.

“You know.” She said, holding her glass delicately, “Arielle would have worn this dress better. I wonder if you had something to do with her disappearance.”

My breath hitched, but I didn’t respond.

Then, with a mock gasp, she tripped, intentionally, and her glass of red wine spilled all over the front of my dress.

Gasps erupted around us as my gown was drenched, crimson blooming over satin like blood. The crowd turned to watch the spectacle unfold.

I stared at the spreading stain on my dress, chest heaving. My face burned with humiliation, but inside, something snapped. My fists clenched at my sides.

“You b…” I began, my voice low and shaking with fury.

But I didn’t get to finish. Suddenly, the massive double doors of the ballroom burst open with a deafening bang.

Everyone turned.

And then the world seemed to stop.

Arielle. She stumbled in, her white dress torn and soaked in blood, her face pale as death. Her long hair was matted, her arms trembling, eyes wide and glassy with terror. Gasps and screams rang out through the hall.

Lucien was already sprinting toward her, his voice cutting through the shock, “Arielle!”

I stood frozen, my ruined dress forgotten.

Arielle’s eyes darted through the crowd, and landed on me.

Her lips parted, “Isla… How could you…” She whispered, barely audible, before her knees buckled.

Lucien caught her just before she hit the floor, cradling her against his chest like she was the most precious thing in the world.

My throat tightened as chaos erupted around us.

And in that moment, as Lucien looked up, eyes wide with fear, clutching Arielle like his life depended on it, I knew everything was about to change and change it did.

Before I could process what had just happened, another figure stormed through the doors, our mother.

Her eyes scanned the room wildly until they landed on Arielle in Lucien’s arms and then on me.

“You witch!” She screamed.

Gasps echoed again through the ballroom as she shoved through the crowd, heels clacking furiously on the marble floor. Before I could step back, her hand cracked across my face with such force that my head whipped to the side.

I staggered, blinking, my cheek blazing with pain.

“You vile, evil girl!” She shrieked, her

voice trembling with rage and grief, “How could you kidnap your own sister?!”