Replaced By My Twin: Now The Alpha's Obsession

CHAPTER 2: Twists Of Turn

~ AKIRA ~

It was either the bartender was a lover of misery or simply didn't give a f**k. Either way, I appreciated his apathy. He didn't ask a single question and only refilled my glass when he noticed it below half-empty.

Not like I had any money, dignity, or shame left to protect. Let them call the cops. Let them call the Darks.

Surely my twisted excuse for a family could cover whatever damage I caused tonight.

A small smile escaped my cracked lips as I twirled the amber liquid in my hand, focusing intently on it, hoping by some sort of magic it had turned red and maybe undone everything that had happened in my life within the last twenty-four hours.

Instinctively, my hand stretched behind my neck in a practiced habit. The laughter returned.

The birthmark that had clung attractively onto the nape of my neck for twenty-six years was gone, my skin smooth and unblemished.

But that wasn't all. When Amanda turned her head at the altar, there it was, staring right back at me from “her” neck. She bore the mole and left me looking like a lunatic in the presence of God and everyone.

My eyes shut tight. I could still remember the looks on their faces. Mother's hands were folded, as if to say, “You've done enough.” Father had pulled out his phone, his thumb ready to dial.

I couldn't wait to confirm my suspicions.

I couldn't stay to watch Amanda legally become the Mrs. to the love of my life with my stolen identity.

So I ran. Straight into the only place I'd sworn never to step foot in. The moment I realised Alex was serious about me and didn't like my drinking habit...

I quit. For him.

But here I was tonight, back to the only thing that hasn't deserted me yet.

The music in the bar did nothing to calm the sadistic melodies playing in my heart. A tear touched my hand before I realised I was crying.

Tonight was supposed to be my wedding night. It was meant to be special for Alex and me. All our years of self-restraint were meant to let loose.

I even bought lacy lingerie in red. Something to spice up the moment. And oh, heavens have mercy, did I research s*x styles and read embarrassing articles on how best to satisfy my man, taking me to sites I should never have visited.

And now Amanda was likely riding him to oblivion in our bridal suite. The glass against my palm was solid. I could almost hear it shattering into a thousand pieces if it weren't.

Just what the f**k happened last night?

I closed my eyes in a futile attempt. Emptiness. Darkness. Just like last time.

Alex was a victim of Amanda's ploy, just like me. But as deeply as it cut that he couldn't recognize me for me... I couldn't bring myself to hate him.

You see why werewolf men were different from ours? I sighed in thought. At least in their supernatural world, in all the books I've read, those Alpha bastards could supposedly recognize their women from scent alone.

“Hi, darling.”

The voice slid smoothly over the music. I raised my head to meet his dark pair of eyes. He eased into the bar stool next to mine, his shadow blocking a ray of neon light.

I ignored him, looking straight ahead. But he didn't take the hint. “What's a pretty little angel like yourself doing all alone in a bar?”

My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached, breath caught in my throat. This uncultured stranger had just used the exact three words capable of making me go feral.

“This ‘pretty little angel’ would highly prefer to be left alone, Mr-I-don't-know-how-to-read-the-room.” I shoved back with a not-so-friendly smile.

“Oh, c'mon now.” His tone dropped, turning husky and demanding. His fingers which were rough like scrubbing sponge, unexpectedly traced circles over my exposed shoulder. “A girl dressed in a ragged piece like that... just name your price.”

A lump formed in my throat. I gulped.

I think I've had enough garbage for a day to yet be thrown another one. At this point, prison as Amanda wasn't such a bad idea.

“If that's how your father got your mum, I'm disappointed their son survived the gene pool,” I wanted to say, when another voice, deep and authoritative, stole the spotlight.

“You heard the lady.” He snapped. I could almost see veins popping on his neck. “Back off.”

My harasser paused slightly, his shoulders dropping as he gauged the man across the bar. He backed away, hands raised in mock surrender, though he couldn't resist muttering under his breath, “I could swear I've never seen you work this shift before.”

“If you stick around long enough, I'll make sure you remember exactly when I started,” the bartender shot back, his voice low and deadly.

The bartender who ignored my entire existence all evening had suddenly taken interest in saving me.

“Thanks,” I muttered, quickly tucking a stray, matted lock of hair behind my ear, becoming conscious of how vulnerable I looked.

Then the brutal reality of the reflection that greeted me when I looked at myself at the altar flashed through my mind. How a pink flimsy dress I wasn't sure I owned clung to my body like a second skin. My hair was a disaster. I looked exactly like the trainwreck they all claimed I was.

“Don't get the wrong idea.” He scowled, his tone abruptly turning cold as he poured me another drink. “I just couldn't watch a lady get harassed on my clock. If he corners you outside the door, that's your business.” His voice was distant, utterly unkind, and indifferent to my tragedy.

“Punk,” I muttered beneath my breath, turning my attention to the drink in front of me.

He ignored me again and went on with his work, wiping down the taps. Slowly, the bar emptied and soon the music died down.

“Look, miss.” The bartender returned, leaning over the counter. “You need to ask for your bill and think about going home.”

“Uhm… I…”

Too bad I didn't picture how this night was going to end.

He dragged in a deep breath before pulling out a machine from the apron hanging around his neck. “Cash or card?”

I didn't know what I expected to happen, but I kept mute. My eyes were barely awake as I began to see in threes.

“Ha!” He let out a sharp scoff, tossing the terminal onto the counter. “Don't tell me you're one of those girls who strut into high-end bars hoping for a man to clear their bills?”

His mouth kept moving, lecturing, but I didn't hear a word from it until the last parts registered in fragments. “I shouldn't have... Man... At least... offered... clear bill... debt... settle some other way.”

The air in the room shifted strangely. Goosebumps formed on my skin.

“Jace.”

A voice that sounded like it was coming from a thousand miles away erupted through the haze. I didn't know if it was the alcohol, but that had to be the most alluring voice I'd ever heard.

I forced my chin up, straining to catch a glimpse of the speaker, when I missed a step and collapsed.

“s**t!” Jace cursed, dissing me as I lay on the floor, his footsteps moving towards the newcomer.

“What's happening here?”

“Ignore her,” I heard. “She doesn't have a dime on her, and she emptied half the whiskey we had.”

The newcomer said nothing. He only crouched down to my level, his large hands sliding beneath my arms to lift me effortlessly, as if I weighed nothing.

“Do you know your way home?” His cologne enclosed me in a seductive wave, grounding my chaotic sense of reasoning. “You don't look like you can handle a wheel.”

Just who the f**k was this guy?

It was stupid. Dangerous even, but… “Why don't you take me to yours?” I mumbled against his jacket, but before my newfound stranger could mutter a response... darkness swallowed me whole.