Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Alpha's Proxy Bride : Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

Scout’s POV“Where is she?”Alpha Nixon’s voice boomed across the lawn. It hit the crowd like a physical blow, silencing the restless whispers. I stood near the back, watching members of both our pack and his shift uncomfortably. Every eye darted toward the empty altar.My sister, Simone, was late. Fifteen minutes late.My gaze flickered over the sea of guests, hunting for a familiar face. Harmoni, my mate, was supposed to be managing the final logistics. He had stepped away toward the parking area nearly an hour ago, promising to return in five minutes. I checked my phone for the tenth time. Nothing. No response to my texts, no missed calls. My gut twisted into a tight, hard knot.“Miss Cranberry.”I jumped, stumbling back and catching the edge of a decorative vase. It wobbled, then tipped, shattering against the stone path. I didn't even look down at the shards. Alpha Nixon stood barely two feet away, his presence suffocating. His dark suit was immaculate, but his jaw muscle flexed

"You are not my bride."Nixon’s voice cut through the wedding hall like a razor. The air turned frigid. My pulse hammered against my throat as I stood frozen, the heavy silk veil still clutched in his hands. A moment ago, the room had hummed with the soft music of celebration. Now, the silence was heavy enough to choke on.I looked up at him. The man who had been my fated partner only minutes ago now peered down at me with raw, undisguised loathing."Scout?" A man in the front row stood up. "Where is Simone? Why is she wearing the veil?"The murmurs rippled outward, growing into a harsh, frantic hum. The pack members were shifting in their seats, their faces tight with confusion and the first flickers of aggression."Deception," Nixon said. He didn't raise his voice, yet the word hit every corner of the room. "Is this how your pack greets an Alpha? With a stunt?"I tried to swallow, but my throat was tight. The bond between us - the invisible tether that had felt like a warm promise j

Simone’s POV“Did you honestly think I would let you steal my life without a fight?”The words hung in the air, sharp enough to cut. I stood at the edge of the dais, my breath hitching as I surveyed the crowd. Everyone looked at me with wide, pitying eyes. My sister, Scout, stood before the altar in my dress. It was a beautiful gown, silk and lace, but on her, it looked like a stolen prize.My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic rhythm that had nothing to do with the physical pain I had carefully manufactured. I adjusted my posture, favouring my left leg. Every inch of my body ached from where I had slammed myself into the brick wall of the pantry, but the dull throb was worth it.Father pushed through the throng of pack members. His face was pale, his eyes darting between me and the altar. He reached out, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to pull Scout away from the judgment of the crowd.“Wait,” Father said. His voice cracked. “There must be some misunderstanding. Scout wo

Nixon’s POV"The wedding is not over," I said.My voice ripped through the quiet hall like a blade. I didn't care about the gasps or the way the guests started whispering behind their hands. My skin felt too tight. My blood was a dark, boiling mess. I looked at the woman standing where my bride should have been. Scout. She was trembling so hard I could hear her teeth click, her face a mask of pure terror.I hated her for that look. She had no right to play the victim when she had just burned my world to the ground.Everything I did was for my mother. The rot was eating her alive. It started with her strength, then her sight, and now it was taking her mind. The healers all gave me the same pitying look. They said she had six months. Maybe less. She had one final wish. She wanted to see me settled. She wanted to know I wouldn’t be a lone wolf when she finally let go.I didn't have time for a long courtship or a grand romance. I needed a contract. I needed a woman to stand by me so my mo

Scout’s POV“You look terrible for someone who supposedly won the prize,” a voice rasped, cutting through the heavy fog in my mind.I groaned as the scent of expensive leather and stale bourbon filled my nose. My skull felt like it had been cracked open and stuffed with hot lead. I tried to swallow, but my tongue was a dry patch of sandpaper against the roof of my mouth. I didn’t recognize the shadows or the way the world swayed beneath me. I wasn’t in my bed. I was on a plush bench, and the hum of tires on asphalt told me I was moving fast.The memories of the wedding hall hit me like a physical blow. The screaming. The look on Simone’s face right before the lights went out. The way everyone looked at me like I was a monster.I sat up too fast. The interior of the limousine blurred for a second, and I had to plant my palm against the seat to keep from sliding onto the floor. Across from me sat Nixon. He didn’t look like a man who had just been forced into a marriage. He looked like a