Tragic Love 短篇故事與 Substitute Substitute Bride 小說

I married Dario Vellari in place of the true Salvatore heiress. Dario was the only heir of the Vellari Famiglia, the one with the severe PTSD. Five years of marriage. He never slept with me. Then Bianca came home from Boston, the real heiress, and everything changed. In front of her, Dario reined in his temper. The rooms he had never let me enter, the things he had never let me touch - Bianca walked through them as if they were her own. I thought, then, that I was finished caring for Dario. But after I left, he scoured every corner of the northern hemisphere looking for me. Said if the bride wasn’t me, he would never marry at all.

On the morning of our wedding, when Ethan Green came to pick me up, my bridesmaid Tessa stopped him at the door with three questions. "What mark on the bride's body would let you recognize the woman you love at a glance?" Ethan didn't even have to think. "A crescent moon on her right shoulder." The whole room went silent. Tessa gave an awkward cough and glanced at me on the edge of the bed. Because I didn't have a birthmark anywhere. The one with the crescent-moon birthmark on her right shoulder was my twin sister, Celina Linden, who'd stormed off to Paris four years ago. From age seven to 22, they were known all over New York for their love-hate relationship. During their worst fight, my sister dumped red wine over his head, and he smashed her favorite cello. The very next day, he scoured auction houses around the world for an identical one. They loved each other fiercely, but they were both wild and stubborn. Neither would back down. Four years ago, my sister left without a word to chase her freedom. To punish her for leaving him, Ethan proposed to me, the one who'd always carried messages between them. He said, "Then you marry me, Aria." For four years, I clung to that stolen marriage and made myself small. I learned to drink his espresso without sugar. I learned to iron every crease out of his shirts. Ethan snapped out of it and saw how pale I'd gone. He frowned and reached out to ruffle my hair. "Sorry, slip of the tongue. Aria, you've always been so understanding. Don't make a scene today of all days." I didn't throw a fit. I just smiled and set my bouquet back on the vanity. Ten minutes earlier, a flight from Paris had landed, and my sister had sent a message to the family group chat. "I'm back." What he didn't know was that I'd sent my suitcases to London by air the night before.

I have been dead for seven years. For seven years, a rare plague had ravaged the Silver Moon Kingdom. The new Luna, Lilith, wasn't immune either. She coughed up blood daily, her old wounds weeping anew with every full moon. Even in death, to the wolf packs, I was still the jinx. The false Luna who had beguiled the Alpha King. The cursed one destined to bring ruin to the kingdom. The entire kingdom begged Alpha King Kaelan to banish my vengeful spirit. My former mate was in the royal palace, softly consoling his current Luna, my sister. "Lilith, don't be afraid. If she insists on tormenting you with her curse even after death, then I will tear her inner wolf to shreds. You'll never be threatened by her again." But when they set foot in the Rogue Lands where I had been exiled, they found no wandering spirit of mine. Before them knelt the corpses of dozens of she-wolves, arranged neatly before my crude grave. They had all been exiled as "sinners", yet now, in death, they offered their final act of devotion. There was no trace of any spirit. There was only a small girl, about six years old, sitting beside the tombstone and clutching a photograph of me from when I was alive. Her ice-blue eyes were a perfect reflection of Kaelan's. "You're too late," she said. "Her inner wolf returned to the Moon Goddess long ago." "I've only been waiting here to get justice for my mother."