Married To My Stepbrother Alpha

Chapter 5

The door clicked shut behind Marcus and Damon, leaving a heavy silence hanging in the small cottage. I sat perfectly still, my hands clenched tight in my lap, my heart still hammering wildly against my ribs. Damon’s voice still echoed in my ears, low and mocking, his breath warm against my skin, his threat sharp and clear: Everywhere you go… I am there. I will make you wish you never stepped foot here.

My mother reached across the table, covering my cold hands with hers, her face tight with worry. “Elara, are you alright? He… he goes too far, every time. I don’t understand why he hates you this much. It’s like he sees you as an enemy, not family.”

Before I could answer, Mara leaned forward, her wise brown eyes studying me closely, her expression serious but kind. She didn’t look shocked or upset by Damon’s behavior—instead, she looked thoughtful, as if she had seen this play out many times before.

“Do not let his words sink into you, child,” she said softly, her voice steady and calming. “Damon Blackwood is not cruel because he is evil. He is cruel because he is afraid. He was raised to value only strength, only tradition, only the bloodlines that have ruled this land for centuries. When you arrived, you didn’t just bring a new face to the pack. You brought change. You brought something he cannot understand, something he cannot control. And to someone like him… that is the greatest threat of all.”

She paused, reaching out to touch my forehead lightly, her fingers cool and gentle.

“But there is more to it than that. Much more. When I looked at you earlier… I saw something sleeping inside you. Something powerful, ancient, something that hasn’t been seen in these lands for generations. Damon feels it too, even if he doesn’t know what it is. That is why he watches you. That is why he hates you. Deep down, he senses that you are not what you seem. And that scares him more than anything.”

I stared at her, confused and stunned. “Powerful? Ancient? Mara… I’m just half-human. I have no wolf, no strength, no special gifts. Everyone here knows that. I’m the weak one, remember?”

Mara smiled, a faint, mysterious curve of her lips. “Appearances can be deceiving, Elara. The strongest things often lie dormant, waiting for the right moment to wake up. You are not ordinary. You never have been. And one day soon… you will understand exactly what I mean.”

She stood up then, brushing off her skirt, and changed the subject smoothly, as if she had already said more than she was allowed to. “Come now. Let’s not waste this beautiful day. I will show you the herb gardens at the back, and teach you a little about the plants we use. It will do you good to learn, and it will keep your mind occupied.”

We followed her out the back door into a small, wilder garden filled with all kinds of greenery—tall bushes, winding vines, flowers of every color, and strong-smelling herbs growing in neat rows. The air was thick with their scent, calming and fresh, and for a little while, I managed to push Damon and his threats to the back of my mind. Mara taught me which plants healed fevers, which stopped bleeding, which calmed the mind, and which were used in pack ceremonies. She spoke with such love and respect for every leaf and root, and I found myself fascinated, listening closely, asking questions, feeling a strange, natural connection to everything around me.

It felt right. Being here, among the growing things, breathing in the earthy air… it felt like home in a way the big manor never could.

But peace never lasted long here.

An hour later, as we walked back toward the main house, following a winding path that cut through the edge of the forest, the sun suddenly disappeared behind thick grey clouds, casting everything into shadow. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves loudly, making the trees creak and sway around us. And then… a low, deep growl rumbled through the air, vibrating in my chest, making the hair on the back of my neck stand straight up.

My mother gasped, stepping close to me, her eyes wide with fear. Out from the trees stepped three large, grey wolves—muscular, sharp-fanged, their yellow eyes glowing in the dim light. They weren’t shifting, weren’t taking human form. They were fully in their beast forms, and they were blocking our path, standing tall and menacing, growling low in their throats, stepping closer and closer.

“Stay behind me,” Mara commanded, her voice firm and unafraid, stepping between us and the wolves. “They are young warriors, still learning control. But they are dangerous if provoked.”

“Wh-what do they want?” I whispered, my voice trembling, my heart racing again.

“They know who you are,” Mara said quietly. “And they have been listening to too much talk. Too much of Damon’s talk.”

One of the wolves stepped forward, bigger than the others, his lips curling back to show long, sharp teeth. He barked a sharp, harsh sound, and Mara answered him in a low, rumbling tone that sounded nothing like human speech—ancient, guttural, the language of the pack. But the wolf only growled louder, stepping closer, his eyes fixed straight on me, bright with dislike and challenge.

Outsider. Weak. Doesn’t belong. I could almost hear the words in his growls.

He lunged suddenly, fast as lightning, snapping his jaws inches from my arm. I screamed, stumbling back, falling onto the rough ground, terror flooding every part of me. My mother cried out, rushing toward me, but the other two wolves moved to block her way, growling threateningly.

The big wolf stood over me, his huge paws on either side of my body, his hot, heavy breath washing over my face, his teeth bared, ready to snap. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the pain, waiting for the bite, waiting for the end…

But it never came.

Instead, a loud, snarl tore through the air, and a dark shape slammed into the grey wolf, knocking him flying sideways across the grass. I scrambled backward, eyes wide, breathless, staring at the scene in front of me.

Another wolf—black as midnight, huge, powerful, bigger and stronger than all the others combined—stood between me and the attackers, his fur standing on end, his lips pulled back in a terrifying snarl, his golden eyes blazing with pure, deadly rage. He didn’t make a sound, didn’t bark or growl, but the sheer power radiating off him was enough to make the three grey wolves cower back, heads lowered, tails tucked between their legs, whimpering softly.

The black wolf took one heavy step forward, and the three of them turned and ran, vanishing into the trees as fast as they had come.

Silence fell again, heavy and ringing.

The black wolf turned slowly toward me. He was magnificent, terrifying, and unmistakable. Even in this form, I knew exactly who he was. That size, that power, those burning golden eyes… it could only be one person.

Damon.

He stood there, panting slightly, watching me closely. His eyes were still fierce, still hard, but the anger was gone, replaced by something else—confusion, maybe, or frustration. He took a step closer, and I flinched, crawling back on my hands and knees, terrified, remembering every cruel word, every threat he had ever spoken.

But he didn’t attack. He didn’t snap. He didn’t even make a sound. He just stood there, staring at me for a long moment, his head tilted slightly, as if studying a puzzle he couldn’t solve.

Then, in a blur of motion, his body shifted, bones cracking and rearranging, fur disappearing, until Damon stood there in his human form again, wearing only black trousers, his chest bare, muscles rippling under his skin, his hair wild and messy.

He looked down at me, sprawled on the dirt, scared and shaking, and his expression twisted into that familiar, cold disdain.

“You see?” he said, his voice rough and sharp, though quieter than before. “This is what I meant. Out here, you are nothing but prey. You are helpless, useless, and you would be dead ten times over if I wasn’t always there cleaning up your messes.”

He leaned down, grabbing my arm roughly and pulling me to my feet, his grip tight and painful. He was close—too close—and I could see the wildness still burning in his eyes, the wolf still right beneath the surface.

“I saved you today,” he hissed, his face inches from mine. “Not because I care. Not because you matter. But because if anything happens to you, Father will be devastated, and I will have to deal with his grief. And I don’t want that.”

He shoved me back roughly, making me stumble.

“So don’t you dare think this changes anything. I still hate you. I still want you gone. And next time… I might just let them finish what they started.”

He turned away, ready to storm off into the trees, but I found my voice at last, shaking and small, but loud enough to stop him.

“Then why did you come?”

Damon froze. His shoulders tensed, his back stiff. He didn’t turn around. He didn’t answer. He just stood there for a long, heavy moment, before walking away without a single word, disappearing into the dark forest just like before.

My mother ran to me, wrapping me in her arms, crying and checking me for injuries, while Mara stood nearby, watching the place where Damon had vanished, a small, knowing smile on her face.

I stood there, my heart still racing, my arm aching where he had grabbed me, my mind spinning.

He hated me. He threatened me. He told me I was nothing… yet when danger came, he was the one who saved me.

And as I looked toward the trees where he had disappeared, I realized something that terrified me more than any wolf, any threat, or any hatred he had ever shown.

Damon Blackwood wasn’t just my enemy. He was my protector, too.

And I had no idea… which one of them was more dangerous.