The Alpha’s Substitute Groom

Weddings are supposed to be beautiful. Cute vows, happy tears, flowers that smell like heaven, and relatives pretending they’re not silently judging everything. Right? Yeah… try telling that to a Jimenez. I stood in front of the full-length mirror in the dressing room, tugging at my tie for what felt like the twentieth time. The knot kept slipping, twisting itself into angles that made me look like I’d just survived a tornado. I let out a frustrated sigh, trying to force my shoulders to relax, but the tension in my chest refused to listen. Today wasn’t just another formal event. Today was a declaration, a spectacle, a legacy. “Levi, you good?” one of the ushers asked, hurrying past with his clipboard and a nervous smile. “Yeah,” I muttered, forcing a chuckle, even though my chest was thrumming with anxiety. “Just trying not to strangle myself with this tie.” He laughed, and I envied his calm. I wished I could just glide through the day like nothing was wrong. But nothing about today was normal. This was the Jimenez–Bianchi alliance wedding. A celebration that was supposed to stitch two packs together after decades of tension. Every elder, every council member, every nosy aunt had circled this day on their calendars, whispering about it as if it were the Second Coming itself. People would tell stories about this wedding for years at least, that’s what they believed. And of all the thousands of perfectly normal, well-behaved youths in California, fate had picked my twin sister, Lena Jimenez—human hurricane in heels—to be the bride. Great choice, universe. I straightened my suit jacket, trying to push down the unease knotting my stomach. I wasn’t prone to panic. I trained for stressful situations, followed rules, solved problems before they became disasters. But something about this day made my usual calm feel like a fragile veneer. The Jimenez Pack needed this wedding. The Bianchi Pack needed this wedding. Alpha Xavier Bianchi—my sister’s soon-to-be husband—needed it to prove some kind of point I didn’t fully understand. And our mother… well, she had drilled it into our heads for years: “This marriage is the future.” The future. No pressure or anything. I gave myself one last look in the mirror: coffee-brown eyes, hair slicked back, tux sharp enough to cut glass. I looked ready. Or at least I pretended I did. I left the dressing room and stepped into the sunlit walkway leading to the venue. Music and chatter floated through the air, mingling with the scent of eucalyptus, white roses, and very expensive perfume. Guests milled about, smiling and laughing, snapping pictures, pretending they weren’t silently judging every detail—from the way the caterers carried the trays to whether the flowers were in the perfect shade of ivory. I could feel the weight of eyes on me as I walked. Elders nodded, young wolves checked their reflections in windows, and distant relatives whispered behind gloved hands. Everyone wanted today to be perfect. Because if it wasn’t… Well. It couldn’t go wrong. Not today. “Levi!” an usher called, waving as he passed me. “The ceremony’s starting in fifteen!” “Yeah, I know,” I replied, trying to steady my voice, though the adrenaline prickling my nerves felt like a live wire under my skin. Lena should’ve been busy fussing over her hair, whining about pins or sleeves or how high her heels were. She should’ve been laughing with her bridesmaids, complaining she’d probably cry when she walked down the aisle. Instead… I felt an emptiness I couldn’t name. I tried to shake it off and continued toward the main entrance. That’s when I heard it. A hiss of my name, sharp and urgent. “Levi!” I turned, eyebrows lifting as I saw Larissa—Lena’s best friend—running toward me in heels that looked entirely too high for speed. Her mascara was smudged, but that wasn’t unusual for her dramatic personality. What was unusual was the fear in her eyes. “Hey—what—” I began, but she grabbed my wrist like she was yanking me out of a burning building. “Come. Now.” Her voice didn’t hold its usual flair. It was short, sharp, full of panic. My chest tightened. “Larissa, breathe—what the hell is going on?!” She didn’t answer. She tugged harder, pulling me down a quieter corridor lined with tall windows. My polished shoes echoed against the tiles as I followed, my heartbeat climbing with every step. She kept glancing over her shoulder, like someone—or something was following. “Larissa,” I said again, my voice firm, trying to wrest control of the situation. “You’re scaring me. What happened? Is it Lena? Did she faint? Did she—she better not have torn that dress again—Mom will—” She stopped so abruptly that I almost collided with her. And that’s when I saw her—Mother. She was at the far end of the hallway, frozen, hands clasped so tightly her knuckles were white. Her posture, usually the perfect picture of control, was stiff, almost brittle. Her lips trembled. Her eyes were wide, darkened at the rims, and pale as if the blood had all drained out. She didn’t blink, didn’t even take a step toward us. My mouth went dry. “Mom?” I ventured, stepping closer. “Why are you out here? You should be with Lena—” Her gaze lifted slowly, shakily, toward mine. My mother’s lips quivered before she whispered the words that made the world stop. “Levi… Lena is missing.” For a moment, my brain refused to process it. Missing? Not fainted, not late, not tired. Missing. “What?” I croaked. “She’s not in the room,” Larissa said, her voice cracking. “She’s not anywhere.” The world didn’t just tilt. It flipped, spun, and dropped me into an abyss of panic I hadn’t known existed. My chest constricted, my stomach churned, and the noise of the wedding—music, laughter, chatter faded into a dull, mocking hum. I felt a hundred thoughts slam into me at once: Where would she go? Who would take her? Did someone—dare I think it—attack her? “Okay. Okay,” I muttered, shaking my head as if that could make it all make sense. I needed control. I needed a plan. I’m supposed to be the calm one. I’m supposed to fix this. I glanced at my mother, but her face gave nothing away. Nothing. Larissa pressed a hand to her mouth, as if holding back tears, or maybe screams. “We don’t know,” she whispered. “We just… she was supposed to be ready. And then… she wasn’t.” I swallowed hard, trying to steady my thoughts. Lena wasn’t just my sister. She was reckless, yes, but she wasn’t stupid. She could handle herself. But whoever or whatever was involved… they were planning something. And they had chosen today. Today. I clenched my fists, feeling the surge of protective fury I always carried for her. I didn’t panic. I couldn’t. Not entirely. But every instinct screamed that the day we’d all been waiting for, the wedding that was supposed to unite two packs, the day meant to be a symbol of legacy and power was spiraling into chaos. And I was standing right at the edge. I took a deep breath, letting my gaze sweep the hallway one more time. Then, meeting Larissa’s terrified eyes, I whispered, “We find her. Now.” The words tasted like iron on my tongue, but they carried the only truth I could cling to: Lena Jimenez was my sister. And she was missing. The world didn’t just tilt. It shattered.