The Supreme Alpha's Defiant Substitute Bride

Celina Cross POV:

After dying a tragic death as a substitute bride, I unexpectedly came back to life and was reborn, returning to this very day.

Curtis Decker stood in the doorway, brushing invisible dust from his tailored brown suit. As the eldest son and heir of the Decker Pack, he looked down at me with the same condescending disgust I remembered from before my death.

"Stop playing dead," Curtis snapped, stepping into the room. The heavy soles of his leather shoes clicked sharply against the floorboards. "The Mcleod Pack's convoy has already crossed our territory line. Put on the dress and get downstairs."

I stared at him through the dim light. Memories of my past life flashed before my eyes-how this family had bled me dry, thrown me away like trash, and left me to rot.

When I didn't move, Curtis narrowed his hazel eyes. He flared his Alpha aura, sending a heavy, suffocating wave of dominance crashing down on me. In the Decker Pack, I was known as a wolfless disgrace, a girl raised in an isolated sanctuary who had never manifested an inner wolf. Under the absolute law of our kind, a wolfless was supposed to cower before an Alpha's command.

Instead, the dormant White Wolf bloodline sleeping deep inside my soul stirred. The ancient power absorbed his aura without effort, dissolving the pressure into nothing.

"I am not marrying anyone," I said, my voice hoarse but steady. "Not unless you meet my conditions."

Curtis let out a sharp, mocking bark of laughter.

"You? Negotiate with the Decker family?" He sneered, curling his lip in pure derision. "A wolfless parasite who can't even shift? You should be on your knees thanking us for finding you a billionaire mate."

He reached into the breast pocket of his designer jacket, pulled out a signed check, and flicked it dismissively at my face. The crisp paper fluttered onto the blanket.

"There's one million dollars. That's more money than a backwater reject like you will ever see in a lifetime. Take it and be grateful."

I didn't even glance at the number. I raised my hand and swiped the check off the bed, sending it fluttering into the dirty corner of the room.

"I want a formal severance agreement," I said coldly. "Dual-notarized under both human legal code and the Royal Court's blood oath."

Curtis froze. The mocking smirk vanished from his face, replaced by sudden, violent rage. He took two menacing strides toward the bed, towering over me.

"Have you lost your mind?" he snarled, veins bulging along his neck. "Without the Decker Pack's protection, the moment you step outside our borders, Rogues will tear you apart!"

I met his glare without flinching.

"Protection?" I gave a humorless smile. "You're forcing me to take Clarissa's place and marry Houston Mcleod-a dying Alpha poisoned by silver. You aren't offering protection, Curtis. You're sending me to be buried alive."

Curtis's face turned ash-gray. Exposed, his primal wolf instincts flared, and his right hand drew back into a fist. He intended to knock me out and drag my unconscious body to the car.

I moved faster.

My hand shot out, grabbing the thick glass tumbler from the bedside table. In one fluid motion, I slammed it against the wooden edge, shattering the rim. I jammed the jagged glass shard directly against my carotid artery.

The sharp edge pierced my skin. A warm bead of crimson blood trickled down my pale throat.

Curtis stopped dead in his tracks. His pupils dilated in sheer panic.

"Call Kerrie and the Pack's legal counsel," I commanded, my hand holding the glass completely steady. "Draft the severance agreement right now. Otherwise, you can deliver my cold corpse to the Mcleod convoy and explain to their war council why the bride is dead."

Curtis stared at the blood on my neck, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He knew exactly how badly the Decker Group needed this alliance to avoid bankruptcy. If the bride died on their territory, the Mcleod Pack's wrath would wipe them off the map.

"You're insane," Curtis spat through clenched teeth, pointing a trembling finger at me. "Don't you dare regret this! I'm getting mother!"

He spun on his heel and stormed out, slamming the broken door frame so hard the walls vibrated.

The room fell into silence. I lowered my hand, tossing the bloody glass shard onto the floorboards.

Looking down at my right palm, a faint, dark-golden mark of a dire wolf flickered beneath my skin before vanishing. My supreme Healer abilities and pureblood lineage had returned with me. These arrogant fools had no idea what they had just discarded.

I got out of bed, walked to the chipped wardrobe, and pulled out a plain, floor-length black dress. I changed quickly, shedding the past.

In the cracked mirror, the girl looking back at me was pale, but her silver eyes held none of the desperate hunger for family love that had once lived there. There was only razor-sharp resolve.

Outside, the low, synchronized rumble of heavy engines echoed through the valley. I walked over to the window and pushed the curtains aside. Three black, armored SUVs bearing the silver crest of the Mcleod empire were parked at the front iron gates.

On the manicured lawn below, several low-ranking Omega maids were huddled together, casting mocking glances up toward my window.

"That wolfless trash is done for," one maid sneered, her voice carrying on the wind. "Alpha Mcleod is a dying monster. She won't survive the week."

I pushed the window pane wide open and let a sliver of cold, predatory intent bleed from my gaze. The maids froze instantly, shivering as if they'd been dropped into an ice bath, and scattered in terror.

I turned away from the window and walked toward the bedroom door. Every step I took was measured and absolute. The weak, obedient Celina who begged for their approval died in my past life.

I walked down the dim, wood-paneled hallway, ignoring the dusty portraits of past Decker Alphas hanging on the walls.

At the top of the grand staircase, the brilliant light of the chandelier illuminated the marble foyer below, where my biological mother's shrill voice cut through the air.

"If that ungrateful wretch dares to stall," Kerrie Decker shrieked, "break her legs and throw her into the car!"

I stepped onto the top stair, looking down at them from above.

Celina Cross POV:

The sound of my bare heels clicking down the hardwood steps silenced the foyer.

Kerrie Decker sat rigidly on the Italian leather sofa below. Her jet-black hair was pinned into an immaculate bun, and her narrow, dark-brown eyes flashed with venom. Beside her stood Curtis and a nervous man in a gray suit holding a black leather briefcase-the Decker Pack's chief legal counsel.

"You dare threaten this family with suicide?" Kerrie slammed her porcelain teacup onto the glass table, splashing hot tea across the polished surface.

As my biological mother, she had never given me an ounce of warmth since retrieving me from the rural sanctuary. To her, I was an embarrassment-a wolfless stain on the Decker bloodline, useful only as a pawn.

I reached the bottom of the stairs, stopping a few paces from the coffee table. I didn't sit down.

"Cut the theatrics," I said evenly. "Are the papers ready?"

Kerrie's chest heaved with fury. "You ungrateful little monster! We gave you life, brought you back from the dirt, and this is how you repay us? Taking Clarissa's place to secure our Pack's future is the highest honor you could ever achieve!"

"Trading my life to keep the Decker Group from collapsing is not an honor," I replied, my voice slicing through the room like a silver blade. "If it's such a privilege, let your precious adopted daughter go."

"Shut up and sign the papers!" Curtis barked from behind the sofa, glancing anxiously toward the front doors where the Mcleod convoy was waiting. "Mother, don't waste breath on her. Get it done so we can hand her over."

Kerrie signaled the lawyer with a sharp jerk of her chin.

The lawyer scrambled forward, laying two thick documents on the edge of the glass table. "Miss Cross, these are the dual-notarized severance documents. One copy for the municipal human legal system, and one on enchanted parchment for the Royal Court's blood records."

I leaned down and skimmed the terms. The clauses were ruthless. They stated that I voluntarily surrendered every inheritance right, stripped myself of the Decker name, and declared that my life and death would no longer bear any connection to the Decker Pack.

It was exactly what I wanted.

I took the custom fountain pen from the table and signed my name on the human legal contract without a second of hesitation.

Then, I raised my right hand, bit into the tip of my index finger, and pressed a bead of fresh blood onto the enchanted parchment. A dark-red spark ignited along the parchment's edges, sealing the blood oath before fading into the fiber.

The moment the oath locked into place, a subtle, heavy chain deep within my soul shattered. The biological tie connecting me to the Decker lineage dissolved completely. A wave of profound lightness washed over my chest.

I picked up the signed documents and slapped them onto the table directly in front of Kerrie.

"From this second on," I said, "I am no longer a Decker."

Kerrie stared at the bloodstain on the parchment, a satisfied smirk curling her thin lips. To her, she had successfully discarded a useless burden while securing her family's wealth.

"Good," she scoffed. "Now get out."

"We aren't finished," I said, standing tall and locking eyes with her. "There's still the matter of the dowry."

Curtis frowned, stepping around the sofa to confront me. "What are you talking about? You signed the severance! Get in the damn car!"

"The Mcleod Pack transferred one hundred million dollars into your corporate escrow account this morning as the official dowry for their bride," I said, my voice echoing clearly through the high-ceilinged room. "Since I am the bride stepping into that den, that money belongs to me."

The color drained from Kerrie's face. Her fingers dug violently into the leather cushions.

"You're out of your mind!" Kerrie shrieked, jumping to her feet and abandoning all upper-class decorum. "That money is the Mcleod Pack's strategic investment in the Decker Group! Why would a dying substitute bride need a hundred million dollars?"

"It is the dowry paid for the bride's life," I replied with chilling calm. "It is not a charity handout for your failing business. Transfer the money to my private offshore account right now, or I walk out that back door and let the Mcleods tear down your gates."

Right on cue, a heavy horn blared outside the iron gates. The armored SUVs were idling impatiently, their sheer presence rattling the estate's reinforced windows.

Curtis broke into a cold sweat. He knew Houston Mcleod's reputation. If they failed to deliver the bride today, the Mcleod Pack's financial and military forces would obliterate the Decker Group by midnight.

"Mother, give it to her!" Curtis hissed, leaning down to Kerrie's ear. "Let her take it! Once she arrives at the Mcleod territory, Houston's silver madness will rip her apart in hours. The Mcleods will still honor the alliance as long as the bride reaches their gate. We can recover the loss through the merger after she's dead!"

Kerrie trembled with rage, her eyes burning with pure malice. But faced with total ruin, she had no choice.

Before she could speak, a delicate, tearful sob echoed from the second-floor landing.

"Sister... please don't fight with mother..."

Clarissa Decker walked down the grand staircase, clutching the banister as if her fragile body could barely support her weight. She was draped in an expensive white lace gown, her pale face streaked with carefully placed tears-the perfect picture of an innocent, heartbroken Omega.

Celina Cross POV:

Clarissa hurried down the steps in her designer heels, throwing her arms around Kerrie like a devoted daughter.

"Sister, I know you resent me," Clarissa whispered, her honey-brown eyes swimming with fake sorrow as she looked at me. "If you're angry, take it out on me... but the Pack needs those funds to survive..."

"Shut your mouth," I said coldly.

Under her cloying perfume and styled hair, my heightened senses picked up the faint, nauseating stench of decaying flesh and dark blood magic. She was a Rogue witch who had stolen youth through forbidden skin-binding spells, yet this blind family worshipped her like a sacred blessing.

Clarissa flinched under my stare, retreating behind Kerrie with a theatrical tremble.

"Celina! How dare you speak to Clarissa like that!" Curtis roared, stepping in front of his beloved adopted sister like an enraged guard dog. "She has a weak heart! You're a heartless monster!"

"I don't have time for your pathetic family drama," I said, pulling a sleek black titanium card from my pocket and slapping it onto the glass table. "Call your Chief Financial Officer. Transfer the full hundred million to this account now."

Kerrie's jaw tightened so hard I could hear her teeth grind. Under Curtis's desperate nod, she picked up the internal landline and barked an order.

Within two minutes, the CFO ran into the foyer, clutching an encrypted laptop with trembling hands.

"Transfer the Mcleod dowry funds," Kerrie forced out through clenched teeth. "All of it. To her card."

The CFO didn't dare ask questions. His fingers flew across the keyboard in the tense, suffocating silence of the foyer.

A sharp chime came from my phone. I unlocked the screen. The notification confirmed that one hundred million dollars had cleared into my private Swiss account.

I picked up the black card and twirled it between my index and middle fingers. Watching Kerrie's face twist with grief over the lost money was almost satisfying.

"Now take your blood money and get out of my sight!" Kerrie screamed, her voice cracking.

Clarissa peeked out from behind Curtis, greed flashing in her eyes before she forced her lips into a pitiful tremble.

"Sister," Clarissa choked out, "please take care of yourself in the Mcleod territory. I'll pray to the Moon Goddess for your safety every single day."

I took three slow steps forward, closing the distance between us. The shift in my posture radiated enough pressure that Clarissa instinctively stepped back, her heel catching on the edge of the Persian rug.

I leaned down until my lips were inches from her ear.

"Keep your fake prayers to yourself," I whispered, low enough that only she could hear. "And you might want to check the stitching behind your neck. That rotting-corpse smell of yours is getting harder to cover up."

Clarissa's pupils shrank to pinpricks. The color drained from her skin, leaving her looking like a ghost. Her whole body began to shake with genuine, suffocating terror.

I straightened and gave her a cold, dismissive smirk.

Without another glance at the Decker family, I turned on my heel and walked out the front doors.

Outside on the stone porch, the butler had already tossed my single battered canvas suitcase onto the wet pavement like garbage.

Beyond the driveway, three black Mcleod SUVs waited in the torrential rain, their reinforced steel frames gleaming under the overcast sky.

The rear door of the lead vehicle opened, and two massive werewolf warriors in tailored tactical suits stepped out. They ignored the suitcase, walked up to me, and bowed their heads with formal, rigid discipline.

"Miss Cross," the lead warrior said without emotion. "The Alpha is waiting."

"Let's go," I said.

As I reached the open door of the SUV, Curtis ran out onto the covered porch, shouting through the downpour with vicious spite.

"You think you won because you took the money? Houston Mcleod has lost his mind to silver poison! By midnight, he'll rip your throat out and paint his bedroom with your blood!"

I paused with one foot inside the vehicle. I turned my head, gave him a slow, mocking smile, and slid into the leather interior.

The heavy, bulletproof door slammed shut with a solid thud, sealing away the Decker estate forever. The engine roared to life, and the convoy accelerated smoothly into the dark rain.