Bride Swap

She’s a princess. She’s a weapon. She’s the illegitimate daughter no one was supposed to need. For millenia, peace between supernatural kingdoms has been maintained by a brutal tradition: the Bride Swap. An elven princess for a foreign king. Ten years of marriage to buy one hundred and ninety years of fragile silence. This year, the elves must give a bride to the werewolves. Princess Alicia Sunblade was never meant to be the chosen one. Wild, sharp-tongued, and dangerously gifted by both the goddess of war and the goddess of love, she lives in quiet exile from a father who rules with manipulation and fear. But when her king threatens the one person she loves most, Alicia is forced into an arranged marriage with Alpha Rocco Silvermane — the powerful, feared King of Wolfsreach. Elves and werewolves are natural enemies. Their borders bleed tension. Their histories drip with blood. Rocco is everything Alicia was raised to despise: dominant, ruthless, physically overwhelming — and politically untouchable. Yet he has his own kingdom to protect, his own factions to appease, and his own reasons for accepting the swap. Two rulers. Two unwilling sacrifices. One treaty balanced on a knife’s edge. But Alicia isn’t a lamb being led to slaughter. She is a strategist. A seductress blessed by divine persuasion. A warrior hiding behind silk and ceremony. If her father thinks he’s sending her away to be controlled, he may have just delivered his greatest weapon straight into enemy hands. Because if Alicia is going to be traded… She won’t just survive the wolves. She might just make their king kneel.

After being reborn, the first thing my cousin and I did was switch grooms. In our previous lives, we had gotten married on the same day. She, gentle and composed by nature, became the wife of Blake Malcolm, the aloof naval commander. On their wedding anniversary, Blake skipped the occasion to celebrate his childhood friend's birthday. My cousin had only wanted an explanation, but Blake claimed his conscience was clear. They fell into a silence that lasted fifty years. And me? With my temper—quick to fight, never one for patience—I had married an accountant from the machinery plant's compound. The accountant was soft-spoken, forever complaining about how loud I was, and how little I cared about appearances. We fought every three days, major arguments every five. Eventually, he stopped coming home. Less than a year into the marriage, we divorced. Then one day, my cousin and I opened our eyes and found ourselves young again—and it was the day we were to marry. Again.

At the wedding rehearsal, my fiancé replaced the MC I'd hired with his childhood friend, Riley Robner. "Step aside, Megan. Riley will run through the process for you. Pay attention." He pulled her behind him like he was afraid I'd lose it right there in front of everyone. But I didn't argue. I just quietly stepped back to the corner. He paused, caught off guard, then smirked and took Riley's arm. They walked the aisle together, exchanged rings, and ran through the whole thing like it was their show. Afterward, he drove her home himself. Before he left, he said, "She's a pro. She knows weddings better than you. This is for your own good. "Relax. She's just helping with your marks. When the real day comes, you'll be front and center." I smiled, nodded, and told him to drive safely. Derek shot a look at his groomsmen. They all exchanged grins, chests puffed. A while later, my phone buzzed with a message from the county clerk: [Your appointment has been canceled.] Then another message came in. It was a new confirmation—same office, same license, different groom. Scheduled for what was supposed to be my wedding day. Derek, you can swap out the MC. I'm swapping out the groom.

She was never supposed to be his wife. She was supposed to be invisible. But when the real bride vanishes the night before the wedding, the billionaire's eyes land on her, the maid of honor, and he says four words that change everything: "You'll do. Sign here."

Her sister left just a couple of hours before her wedding, to avoid the chaos that might ensue, she had to brace herself to be the substitute bride instead; little did she know, her life would be even more chaotic after the wedding as truths and lies were slowly being uncovered.

On the day of our wedding, my fiancé, Shawn Chandler, insisted that I wear a bridesmaid’s dress while having a million-dollar wedding gown custom-made for his childhood sweetheart. “Jessica said she wants to fulfill her dream of wearing a wedding dress. She’s been looking forward to seeing me get married since she was little.” I threw the bridesmaid’s dress into the trash. His expression darkened as he scolded me, “Why are you so unreasonable? Even if you wear a bridesmaid’s dress, you’ll still be the bride. And if it weren’t for the fact that you’re pregnant, I wouldn’t be marrying you at all!” Placing my hand over my belly, I slammed the door and left. That night, he posted wedding photos with Jessica Jordan on his social media. Five years later, Shawn and I met again at a charity gala. He was invited as a specially invited donor, with Jessica by his side in a custom designer gown. The two behaved intimately. When he saw me crouching in a corner sorting a donated box of old clothes, he frowned and walked over. “Tiana Larrinson, you refused to wear that bridesmaid’s dress back then, and now, you’ve fallen so low that you’re rummaging through other people’s old clothes? “Look at you, sneaking into events like this by picking through scraps. You should’ve just listened to me back then.” I was confused, and it took me a long time to remember who he was. What he did not know was that the items up for auction at this charity gala were my and my daughter's old clothes.