The Alpha’s Substitute Groom

CHAPTER 5 — DRESSED TO BE SACRIFICED

I didn’t walk to the dressing suite.

I got escorted.

Dragged. Like some criminal being marched to their execution. Two Bianchi guards gripped my arms firmly, shoving me along the polished floors, every step echoing like a drumbeat of doom.

Apparently, this was my life now: the Jimenez sacrifice. The replacement bride. The i***t twin who said yes before thinking.

Guests and elders gasped as we passed, eyes wide as if they were staring at a ghost or worse, me.

“Move faster,” one of the guards growled, shoving my shoulder.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I snapped, “my legs weren’t built for being forced-married to psychopath Alphas. I’ll try harder.”

He glared. Whatever.

My palms were slick with sweat. My brain was a blender. My heart refused to calm down. Every thought spiraled in on itself

Where the hell are you, Lena?

Why did you do this to me?

And above everything else—the horrible, inescapable truth in less than an hour… I wouldn’t just be married.

I’d be married to him.

Xavier Bianchi. The wolf who said, “You will give your body and soul to me” like it was casual advice about picking out a tie.

God. Kill me.

Oh, right. My family. The pack. The contract. The looming threat.

I was the i***t who walked straight into the lion’s mouth so everyone else could survive.

The prep room door slammed shut behind me with a heavy thud.

For a moment, I just stared at the mirror.

It didn’t reflect me. It reflected someone halfway between a panic attack and a nervous breakdown. Someone trying to hold their soul together with duct tape and chewing gum.

A Bianchi attendant cleared her throat sharply. “Stand up straight,” she hissed. “You’re slouching.”

“I’m not slouching,” I muttered, glaring at my reflection. “I’m having a mild existential crisis, thanks. Close enough?”

She didn’t laugh. Of course not. No one ever laughed in situations like this. Everyone here treated me like a fragile artifact, delicate and expensive. Fragile? Me? Try trembling inside while trying not to vomit on a silk cuff.

“Your tie,” she said, producing a straightening tool like it was a weapon. “It’s crooked.”

I yanked it straight. “It’s fine.”

“No,” she snapped, “it’s… unacceptable.”

Fine? Unacceptable? I hadn’t realized the fate of an entire alliance rested on a ten-dollar strip of silk. Why am I even wearing this thing?

“Deep breath,” said another attendant, wielding a brush. “Powder. You’ll look… distinguished.”

“Distinguished?” I asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I look like a hostage in a tuxedo. Distinguished. Perfectly accurate.”

She didn’t flinch. Of course not. These people were trained. I, on the other hand, was spiraling.

Then came the jewelry.

A small velvet box appeared, opening with a soft click. Inside gleamed the Alpha’s wedding emblem, catching the chandelier light like a warning sign. My chest tightened.

“You’ll wear it here,” the attendant instructed, pointing to the left side of my chest.

“That’s… isn’t that the bride’s thing?” I asked, jaw tight.

She arched an eyebrow. “You’re the bride now.”

I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached. “I am not a bride. A groom! A stand-in groom! Temporary! Placeholder! Hell, I’ll take messenger if it means I don’t—”

But she wasn’t listening. The emblem was pinned to my chest like I was already a statue of obedience.

“Stop moving,” she snapped.

“I’m not moving,” I muttered, teeth gritted.

By the time she stepped back, satisfied, I was trembling. Sweating. Mentally screaming. My reflection had morphed into someone I barely recognized: pale, wide-eyed, tense… yet stubbornly unwilling to crumble.

Then came the hair.

“You need to fix your hair,” another attendant said, brandishing a comb like a surgical tool.

“I do not need to fix anything,” I argued. “I’m marrying someone. Not going to a fashion show.”

She ignored me, flicking each strand into place with precision. Every touch made my skin crawl. I wanted to scream. Instead, I forced a smile into the mirror—teeth clenched, lips trembling.

“Shall we… address the hands?” the first attendant asked.

“The hands?” I repeated, incredulous.

“Yes. Alpha always notices hands,” she said, dead serious. “You’ll extend them for the vows.”

I stared at her. “Vows? Hands? Does he know my hands are shaking because I’m about to marry—oh, who am I kidding? The Alpha himself?”

By now, the mirrors reflected a creature I barely recognized: pale, shaky, sweaty, fists clenched, jaw tight… a living warning that panic can masquerade as composure if you try hard enough.

Finally, they stepped back. I inhaled sharply, chest tight, mind racing. Deep breaths. Slow, deliberate. Don’t trip. Don’t faint. Don’t vomit. Smile politely. Breathe like a normal wolf. Pretend you’re… actually a groom.

No time to psych myself up. The guards returned, flanking me, nudging me toward the grand hall. Every step echoed like a drum of doom. Music swelled faintly inside. Guests were seated. Whispers rippled through the crowd: curiosity, judgment, horror. Every step felt like crossing a battlefield in stilettos.

We reached the large brown doors to the hall. My mother waited, hands clasped tightly, knuckles white, eyes rimmed with red. She grabbed my hands before the guards could push me forward.

“Levi…” she whispered, voice breaking. “We can call this off. You don’t have to do this. I’d rather see our legacy crumble than see you trapped like this.”

Her words were knives. I swallowed hard, forcing my chest to steady. “Mom,” I said, voice firm despite the panic in my veins, “we don’t get to crumble. Not now. Not ever. This… this is me keeping the pack alive. You taught me to never let fear dictate our actions. I’m not backing down.”

Tears streamed down her face. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen… you shouldn’t have to—”

“I’m already here,” I cut her off. “It’s too late to stop it. Let’s just… survive.”

She let go of my hands, trembling, but nodded.

A pack elder’s voice boomed from inside the hall. “Now comes the bride!”

I froze. Every nerve in my body screamed. Here it comes.

Music swelled through the hallway. The guards shot me a look that made me feel guilty for being alive. Really? Calm down, Levi. Totally normal. Totally fine.

I plastered on a smile, brittle and forced.

Then I heard the correction, cutting through the air like steel.

“Point of correction… Groom.”

My stomach dropped. Pulse doubled. The gasps from the crowd intensified, rippling through the room. Some probably thought it was a mistake. Some wished it was.

Nope. Truth. I, Levi Jimenez—heart hammering, hands trembling—was about to marry an Alpha.

The doors swung open. The hall fell silent. My reflection caught in the polished marble floor: tense, terrified, sweating, yet stubbornly upright.

And then I saw him.

Xavier. Calm. Tall. Impossibly still. His dark eyes locked on mine. The hall, the whispers, the music all vanished. There was only him.

And I was supposed to walk down that aisle… and marry him.

God help me.