Unwanted Bride: Flash Marriage To The Useless Alpha

I've always wondered what it would feel like to be wanted. Not loved, I stopped dreaming of that a long time ago. But just wanted, maybe as a daughter, or even as a pack member. The barest scrap of acknowledgment would've been enough to warm my frozen heart. Instead, I get the attic. I tugged the thin blanket tighter around me as the night wind howled through the cracks in the walls. The attic wasn't insulated-just wooden boards thrown together randomly. Winter seeped through every crack and corner, wrapping its icy fingers around my skin. The worst part wasn't the cold, though.

It was the loneliness. The voices of the pack drifted up from the floors below. Laughter, music, and the smell of roasted meat wafted through the air. Tonight, the Crimson Moon Pack was celebrating another victory-a successful trade agreement with a neighboring pack. My father's booming laughter echoed through the halls, joined by the sweet, musical sound of my sister Clarissa's giggle. They were a family. I was not part of it. I clenched my jaw and curled into a tighter ball. They didn't want me down there. They'd made that clear since the day I was born. The girl who killed her mother. The cursed child who brought nothing but shame. "Brielle," Clarissa would sneer whenever she found me wandering too close to the pack house. "Don't you think you've ruined enough lives already?" Her words burned like acid. I knew they weren't true-not entirely-but I could never escape them. My father never corrected her. He never defended me. He was Alpha Apollo Darkhaven, a man known for his power, his ruthlessness... and his indifference toward his youngest daughter. A soft knock at the attic door broke through my thoughts. "Brielle?" Zoey. I sat up quickly, brushing the hair from my face. Zoey was the only one in this pack who treated me like I existed. She wasn't a pack member-just one of the servants who worked for my father. But her kindness was the closest thing I had to friendship. "Come in," I called softly. The door creaked open, and Zoey slipped inside. Her auburn hair was tucked into a messy braid, and she carried a small tray with a steaming bowl of soup. "I figured you hadn't eaten," she said, setting it down beside me. "You didn't have to do that," I murmured, though my stomach growled in betrayal. Zoey smiled faintly. "Someone has to look out for you." She sat beside me, watching as I lifted the bowl and took a careful sip. The warmth spread through me instantly, chasing away the cold that had settled in my bones. "You're too good to me," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Zoey shook her head. "You don't deserve this, Brielle. None of it. If I had any power-" "But you don't," I interrupted gently. "And neither do I." On the other hand, her lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn't argue. 'What was the point? We both knew the truth. In this pack, power was everything. And I had none.' Suddenly, the sound of footsteps on the stairs made us both freeze. Heavy, deliberate steps. My father's steps. At that, I scrambled to her feet, grabbing the empty tray. "I should go-" "No," I said quickly. "It's okay." However, in the next moment, the attic door flew open before she could leave. My father's towering figure filled the doorway, his icy eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of me. "Brielle," he said, his voice sharp as a blade. "Get dressed. You're leaving tomorrow." My expression faltered, 'Leaving?' The word hit me like a punch to the gut. "Where?" I asked, my voice trembling. "To the castle," he said coldly. "You're marrying the prince." For a moment, I thought I'd misheard him. "What?" "The Alpha King's nephew, Prince Liam," he said, his tone clipped. "The arrangements have been made. Don't embarrass me by refusing." Zoey's tray clattered to the floor. I stared at my father, my mind racing. Liam. The sickly, powerless prince. A laughingstock among the packs. A man no one wanted to marry. Just like me. "Pack your things," my father ordered before turning on his heel and slamming the door shut. The silence that followed was deafening. Zoey crouched to pick up the tray, her hands trembling. "Brielle," she whispered, "this could be your chance. A new start." 'A new start.' The words swirled in my mind as I stared at the closed door. Maybe Zoey was right. Maybe this was my chance to leave this hellhole behind. Maybe Liam couldn't be worse than my family. But deep down, I couldn't shake off the feeling that I was walking into another cage. The morning came too quickly, dragging with it a heavy fog that clung to the earth like a shroud. I stood by the pack gates with a small, tattered bag-everything I owned in the world. My father and sister were nowhere to be seen. Of course, they weren't. The Alpha didn't have time for unnecessary goodbyes, and Clarissa wouldn't dare risk dirtying her hands by being near me. Instead, it was Zoey who saw me off, her eyes glassy as she fussed over my cloak. "Keep this pulled tight," she said, tying the worn fabric beneath my chin. "It'll help keep you warm." I didn't have the heart to tell her that nothing could keep the chill from seeping into my bones today. "Thank you," I whispered instead. She stepped back, her hands fluttering uselessly before falling to her sides. "Brielle, you're going to be okay." She uttered after a while, feeling a bit sad. I nodded, though I didn't believe her. Behind us, the sound of hooves echoed against the frozen ground. A black carriage appeared through the fog, its frame elegant but plain. It stopped just a few paces away, and a man in uniform stepped down, his face as expressionless as stone. "Lady Brielle?" he asked, his voice brisk. I almost laughed at the title. Lady. I'd never been treated like one a day in my life. "Yes," I said softly, stepping forward. The man barely spared me a glance as he opened the carriage door and gestured for me to enter. I turned back to Zoey one last time. "Be safe," she said, her voice cracking. I nodded again and climbed into the carriage. The door shut behind me with a solid thunk, sealing me inside. The interior was cold and dark, with only a single lantern swinging from the ceiling. I pressed my hands into my lap, trying to stop their shaking. This is better, I told myself. Better than staying in Crimson Moon. However, the pit in my stomach didn't agree.

The journey was long and silent, broken only by the steady clatter of hooves against the dirt road. I stared out the window, watching as the landscape changed from thick forests to rolling plains and, eventually, to towering mountains. The castle came into view just as the sun began to set, its silhouette dark and imposing against the fiery sky. It was larger than I'd imagined, its spires stretching toward the heavens as if daring the gods themselves. The carriage rolled to a stop at the gates, where a pair of guards stood at attention.

They stepped aside without a word, allowing us to pass into the courtyard. I tried not to gape as the carriage came to a halt. Servants bustled about, carrying crates and bundles of cloth. Soldiers in gleaming armor marched in perfect formation. It was a world so far removed from the attic that I almost felt like I was dreaming. The door opened, and the man from before extended a hand to help me down. I took it hesitantly, my legs stiff from the long ride. A woman in a dark dress stood waiting at the base of the castle steps. Her sharp features and calculating eyes reminded me of Clarissa, though there was a coldness to her that even my sister couldn't match. "Lady Brielle," she said, her tone clipped. "Welcome to the castle. I am Matron Edna, head of the royal household. You will follow me." I nodded mutely and followed her up the steps, my heart pounding with each one. Inside, the castle was even grander than I'd expected. The ceilings stretched impossibly high, adorned with complex carvings and glittering chandeliers. The air smelled of polished wood and something faintly floral. "This will be your room," Edna said abruptly, stopping in front of a heavy wooden door. She pushed it open to reveal a modest but comfortable space. A small bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. It was more than I'd ever had in Crimson Moon. "Prince Liam will see you tomorrow," she continued. "Until then, you are to remain here. Do you understand?" "Yes," I whispered. Saying that Edna's eyes lingered on me for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she turned and disappeared down the hallway, her footsteps fading into silence. I closed the door behind her and leaned against it, letting out a shaky breath. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I would meet the man I was meant to marry. The man who, by all accounts, wanted nothing to do with me. I slid onto the edge of the bed, my fingers curling into the fabric of my cloak. No matter what happened tomorrow, I couldn't let myself hope for too much. Hope had a way of destroying me. The morning came with a heavy knock at the door. "Lady Brielle, it is time." In a flash, I sat up, sleep clinging to the corners of my mind. My hands trembled slightly as I smoothed down the simple dress Edna had left for me the night before. It was plain, gray, and unremarkable-fitting for someone like me. When I opened the door, a young servant was waiting for me. She looked at me briefly, her expression unreadable, then gestured for me to follow her. The hallways twisted and turned, the grandeur of the castle pressing down on me with every step. I tried to keep my breathing steady, but it was no use. My heart pounded against my ribs as we approached a pair of heavy doors, carved with intricate patterns that shimmered faintly in the light. The servant stopped and bowed. "The prince is waiting inside." I nodded, though my stomach churned with unease. "Thank you," I murmured, stepping forward. The doors clicked as I pushed them open, revealing a grand chamber bathed in sunlight. At the far end, standing with his back to me, was Liam. The first thing I noticed was how still he was, like a statue carved from marble. His broad shoulders were rigid, his posture a perfect display of control and strength. He didn't turn as I entered, and the silence stretched between us like a taut rope. "Your Highness," I said softly, my voice barely carrying across the room. He turned then, and my breath caught in my throat. Liam was nothing like I'd imagined. His face was sharp, with a jawline that could have been cut from stone and piercing gray eyes that seemed to see right through me. His dark hair was neatly combed, but there was an air of dishevelment about him, as though he hadn't slept in days. He was beautiful in the way storms were beautiful-dangerous and overwhelming. But his expression was cold, his gaze narrowing slightly as it swept over me. "So," he said, his voice low and edged with disdain. "You're the replacement." I flinched at the word. Replacement. Of course, that's all I was to him. "Yes, Your Highness," I replied, forcing my voice to remain steady. He took a step closer, his movements slow and deliberate. "You'll forgive me if I'm not overjoyed by this arrangement," he said, his tone cutting. "I hadn't expected my dear uncle to stoop so low as to send me a daughter from a tribe so... insignificant." His words stung, but I kept my head high. "I didn't choose this either, Your Highness." A flicker of something crossed his face-surprise, maybe? Amusement? It was gone before I could be sure. "No," he said, his voice softening slightly. "I suppose you didn't." For a moment, we just stared at each other. I wasn't sure what he was looking for, but I refused to look away. If he thought I was weak, like the rest of my family, he was wrong. "You'll stay out of my way," he said finally, his tone firm. "Do whatever it is you need to do to keep up appearances but don't expect anything more from me. Is that clear?" "Yes," I said quietly. He turned away, dismissing me without another word. My heart sank, but I wasn't surprised. I'd hoped, foolishly, that things might be different here. That maybe, just maybe, I'd finally found a place where I belonged. But it seemed I was wrong again.

The silence after Liam dismissed me was deafening. My feet refused to move, rooted to the spot by the weight of his words. "Are you deaf?" he asked sharply, not even turning to look at me. "Or do you enjoy standing there like a statue?" The sting of his tone snapped me out of my trance. "No, Your Highness," I said quietly, dipping my head. My hands clenched at my sides to keep them from trembling. I turned to leave, my footsteps echoing loudly in the spacious chamber. But just before I reached the door, his voice stopped me. "Wait." I froze, glancing over my shoulder.

Liam had turned halfway, his gray eyes locked on me. "You'll attend tonight's banquet," he said flatly. "Uncle will expect it, and I won't have him questioning my choices. Do you understand?" "Yes, Your Highness." He nodded once, his expression unreadable, before turning away again. It was clear I was dismissed for real this time. As I stepped out into the corridor, I felt a strange mix of relief and dread. Liam wasn't what I expected. Cold, yes. Arrogant, absolutely. But there was something else beneath his facade, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. Whatever it was, I doubted it mattered. On the contrary, life in the castle was a sharp contrast to the Crimson Moon pack. Where my home had been cold and harsh, with little more than basic necessities, the castle was warm, luxurious, and alive with activity. Servants bustled through the halls, their arms laden with trays of food, stacks of linens, and scrolls of parchment. But despite the grandeur, I felt out of place. The other women in the castle-ladies of noble birth-took one look at me and turned up their noses. Their whispered remarks followed me wherever I went. "She's from that tribe, isn't she?" "Can you believe Prince Liam agreed to this?" "He didn't have a choice. Poor man." I did my best to ignore them, though their words cut deep. Meanwhile, I wasn't here for their approval. If nothing else, I reminded myself, this was better than the Crimson Moon pack. But then there was Liam. He kept his distance, and yet his presence loomed over everything. Every servant I passed bowed and whispered his name with reverence. Every conversation seemed to revolve around him. And every time I caught a glimpse of him-striding through the halls or standing on the balcony, his expression hard and unreadable-I felt a strange, inexplicable pull. I had no illusions about our marriage. It was a transaction, nothing more. But a small, foolish part of me couldn't help wondering if there might someday be more. That evening, as I prepared for the banquet, Edna helped me into a simple but elegant gown. The fabric was soft and flowing, a pale blue that made my eyes stand out. "You'll do fine," she said gently, sensing my nerves. "Do you think he'll be there?" I asked, adjusting the sleeves. Edna's lips pressed into a thin line. "He'll be there, my lady. But don't expect much from him." Her words shouldn't have hurt, but they did. I nodded and steeled myself for what was to come. The banquet hall was dazzling, lit with golden chandeliers, and filled with the hum of conversation. Nobles and dignitaries from across the kingdom filled the room, their laughter echoing off the high ceilings. I felt their eyes on me as I entered, their gazes cold and judging. "There she is," someone whispered. "The new wife." "Poor thing. She doesn't know what she's gotten herself into." I ignored them, keeping my chin high as I took my seat at the long table. Liam was already there, his expression unreadable as he sipped from his goblet. He didn't acknowledge me, not even with a glance. But across the table, a woman with golden hair and a sly smile leaned forward. Victoria. I recognized her from the whispers I'd heard earlier in the day. "Prince Liam," she purred, her voice carrying over the noise. "You look as dashing as ever tonight." Liam's lips quivered slightly, the barest hint of a smile. "And you're as bold as ever, Victoria." The exchange felt intimate, too intimate. My stomach twisted uncomfortably, though I kept my expression neutral. Victoria's gaze flicked to me, her smile sharpening. "And you must be Lady Brielle. How... charming to finally meet you." The condescension in her tone was clear, but I forced a polite smile. "A pleasure to meet you as well, Lady Victoria." She laughed softly, as though I'd said something amusing, then turned her attention back to Liam. The rest of the banquet passed in a blur of forced smiles and tense silences. When it was finally over, I excused myself and made my way back to my chambers, my chest heavy with the weight of it all. I didn't expect kindness or love from Liam, but the indifference and hostility stung more than I'd anticipated. As I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, I made a silent vow. 'I would endure this. No matter what it takes, I would survive this marriage, this castle, this life.' I said internally to myself. If there was one thing I'd learned growing up in the Crimson Moon pack, it was how to survive. Meanwhile, the following days were a blur of cold stares, whispered gossip, and the crushing weight of loneliness. The castle was a gilded cage, and the people within its walls didn't let me forget that I didn't belong here. Liam avoided me whenever possible. When we crossed paths, his sharp tone and indifferent gaze made it clear that I was nothing more than a nuisance-a pawn forced into his life. But it wasn't his hostility that cut the deepest. It was the way he looked at Victoria.