Married To My Stepbrother Alpha

Chapter 6

The walk back to the manor was quiet and tense. My mother kept a tight hold on my hand, her fingers trembling slightly, her face pale with lingering fear. Mara walked beside us, her steps steady and calm, but her eyes kept darting toward the dark tree line, as if she could still sense the tension hanging heavy in the air. Behind us, the forest stood silent and watchful, every shadow reminding me of what had just happened—the grey wolves attacking, the black beast bursting through the trees, and Damon, shifting back to human form, his words sharp and cruel even after saving my life.

I saved you today not because I care. Not because you matter.

His voice replayed in my head, over and over, mixing with the memory of his golden eyes blazing with rage when he had fought those wolves. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe it was only duty, only for his father’s sake. But deep down, something tugged at me—something I couldn’t explain. The way he had stood between me and danger, the way he had destroyed those attackers without hesitation, the way he had looked at me afterward… confused, frustrated, like he was fighting a battle inside himself that I knew nothing about.

When we reached the front doors, Marcus was already waiting, pacing back and forth across the entrance hall, his face lined with worry. The second he saw us, he strode forward, his long legs eating up the distance, his golden eyes scanning us frantically for any sign of harm.

“Mara told me what happened,” he said, his voice rough with relief and anger. “Those young fools… they have no right, no respect. I will deal with them severely, I promise you. No one touches you, Elara. No one threatens you, not while I am Alpha.”

He pulled me gently into a hug, warm and protective, before pulling back to look me in the eye. “And Damon… I heard he was the one who stepped in. I’m not surprised. He may be stubborn, he may be harsh, but he will always protect what is his. Even if he won’t admit it out loud.”

What is his. The phrase made my stomach twist. I wasn’t his. I didn’t want to be his. But everyone here kept treating me like I was some kind of burden or property he was forced to guard against his will.

“Thank you, Marcus,” I said softly, stepping away. “I’m alright. Just… shaken up a little.”

“Go rest, then,” he said gently. “Stay inside where it’s safe. Tonight, we are having a formal pack dinner. All the important members will be there. It’s time they meet you properly, time they learn to respect you as part of this family. Dress well, Elara. Tonight, you are not the outsider. Tonight, you are my daughter.”

I nodded, though dread coiled tight in my chest. Another gathering. More eyes on me. More whispers. And Damon would be there, of course. Standing tall, cold and mocking, making sure I knew exactly how little I belonged.

Up in my room, I sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, staring at nothing, my mind a mess of fear and confusion. I didn’t understand him. I didn’t understand any of this. Why hate me so fiercely, only to save me? Why make my life miserable, yet stand between me and harm?

When the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of purple and deep red, my mother came to help me get ready. She brought with her a beautiful dress—soft silver fabric, flowing and light, with delicate lace along the neckline and sleeves. It was elegant, simple, and perfect.

“Marcus had this made for you,” she said softly, helping me pull it on. “He wants everyone to see you as you truly are: kind, beautiful, and worthy. You look stunning, Elara. Like a princess.”

I looked in the mirror. The dress fit perfectly, making me look taller, softer, a little less ordinary. But as I stared at my own reflection, all I could see was the girl Damon called weak, useless, extra baggage.

“He’s going to be there, Mom,” I whispered, my hands shaking as I fixed my hair. “He’s going to make this terrible. I know he will.”

She turned me gently to face her, her hands resting on my shoulders, her gaze steady and firm. “Let him. You hold your head high. You smile. You speak with grace. Show him that his cruelty doesn’t break you. That is the only way to win, sweetheart. Be better than him. Be kind, even when he is not.”

I took a deep breath, nodded, and followed her out of the room and down the grand staircase toward the great hall, where the dinner was being held. Music drifted up from below—soft, classical, elegant—and the sound of many voices talking and laughing echoed through the house.

When we stepped through the wide double doors, everything went quiet.

Hundreds of eyes turned toward us. Men and women, all tall, strong, beautiful, all with that same unmistakable aura of power, all looking at me with curiosity, judgment, and quiet suspicion. They stood in groups, dressed in fine clothes, wearing jewels and crests that marked their status in the pack. And right at the front, standing beside Marcus, tall and imposing, was Damon.

He wore a black suit, sharp and perfectly tailored, his dark hair combed back, his face set in that familiar cold, unreadable mask. But the second his eyes landed on me, everything else seemed to fade away. His gaze swept over me, from the top of my head down to my shoes, slow and deliberate, and for a heartbeat, I saw something flicker in his golden eyes—surprise, maybe, or something darker, hotter—before it was buried under layers of disdain.

Marcus stepped forward, raising his voice to address the room.

“Everyone, listen to me. This is my wife, Lila, and my daughter, Elara. From today onward, they are part of this pack, part of this family. They are under my protection, and they deserve your respect, your loyalty, and your welcome. Anyone who treats them as anything less… answers to me.”

A murmur ran through the crowd—quiet, uneasy, but no one dared to speak against their Alpha.

Then Damon stepped forward. He walked toward me slowly, every step heavy and deliberate, the crowd parting to let him pass, as if even they were afraid to stand in his way. He stopped right in front of me, close enough that I had to tilt my head back to look him in the eye. He towered over me, broad and powerful, radiating that wild, dangerous energy that always made my heart race.

“Welcome, stepsister,” he said, his voice low and smooth, sounding polite to everyone else, but dripping with hidden poison only I could hear. He took my hand in his, his grip firm, almost painful, his thumb brushing roughly over my knuckles. “You look… very pretty tonight. Almost like you belong here. Almost.”

He leaned down, bending his head near mine, his breath warm against my ear, his words a cold whisper meant only for me.

“But don’t fool yourself, little girl. A pretty dress and a speech don’t change what you are. You are still weak. You are still nothing. And tonight… I’m going to make sure everyone remembers exactly that.”

He pulled back, a fake, charming smile on his face, and lifted my hand to his lips, pressing a mockingly gentle kiss to my skin—while his golden eyes burned into mine, promising nothing but pain and humiliation.

And I knew, right then, that this night was going to be far worse than I had feared. He wasn’t just going to ignore me or be rude. He was going to dismantle me, piece by piece, in front of everyone. And there was nothing I could do but stand there, smile, and prepare for war.