A Breeder to my Ex's Cursed Brother

NADIA “Goddess!” I gasped as fireworks exploded above my head, illuminating the night sky in bursts of gold and crimson. Cheers and laughter erupted around me, the crowd’s joy washing over me like a fierce wave. Seconds later, my father appeared by my side, his strong hands cupping my face before pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Happy birthday,” he whispered. A smile tugged at my lips despite my shock. “You didn’t think I would forget, did you?” He grinned as he guided me toward a lavishly decorated chair. I rolled my eyes. “You’ve outdone yourself, Father.” My father, Alpha Greg Armstrong—one of the last founding Alphas and ruler of Crestfall—was known for his kindness. But before his kindness, there had been something else. Something cold. Ruthless. It was rumored that my birth had softened him, that I had been the reason he chose peace over war. Tonight, however, there was no war. Only celebration. Music played, and I tried not to squirm under the attention of our people. Just when I thought I could slip away, my father stood tall, raising his glass and captured our attention. “Today is a historic day for Crestfall!” I groaned at his theatrics, but a grin tugged at my lips. He extended his hand. “My daughter, Nadia Armstrong.” I hesitated. “Dad,” I whispered, but his grip was firm as he pulled me to my feet. “She turns twenty moons today,” he continued, and the crowd cheered. “A befitting age.” Then, his voice dropped, sending a hush over the crowd. “And today, I will make her the most powerful woman in history.” The air in my lungs turned sharp. The smile on my lips wavered. What? Two elders approached—one holding a crown, the other a carved wooden box. My heart pounded as my father lifted the lid, revealing a ring with a blood-red stone, its surface etched with ancient inscriptions. “Dad,” I whispered, stepping back. My hands clenched at my sides. He wouldn’t. We had talked about this. He had promised me time. “Today, destiny shifts,” he declared. “And new leaders rise.” “No.” My voice was barely a breath. “You said we’d wait—” But my father slid the ring onto my finger. “I name you, Nadia Armstrong, the first Luna Queen of Crestfall.” The crown settled onto my head, its weight heavier than I could bear. My father knelt before me, his eyes filled with something unreadable. “All hail Nadia Armstrong!” The hall erupted in cheers, voices pledging loyalty to a future I never agreed to. I stood frozen, my vision blurring. My father reached for my face, attempting to wipe away my tears, but I pulled away. “Happy tears,” he said, forcing a chuckle. “New leader nerves.” The crowd cooed in response, but he quickly avoided my gaze. I needed to leave. Now. Frantically, my eyes searched for an escape, only to land on a familiar pair of blue eyes. Joel. His brows furrowed, sympathy radiating from his gaze. If I let myself, I’d fall apart right there. I gathered my gown and pushed through the crowd, my breaths coming in sharp gasps. When I reached an empty chamber, my legs buckled beneath me. The tears came fast, uncontrolled. My breathing was ragged, rough until a soft click echoed in the room. My head whipped up in shock and then, his voice. “Nadia.” My eyes squeezed in pain, his hands outstretched for me. I couldn’t even make it to him before I collapsed entirely. He caught me, arms tightening around my waist as I sobbed into his chest. He rubbed my back, his steady presence the only thing keeping me from drowning. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. Then, he kissed me. The heat of it stole my breath, grounding me for just a moment before he pulled away. “What are you going to do?” he asked. I shook my head. “I have to become queen.” Joel stiffened. “They’ll know! Nadia, You’d be killed.” Fresh tears welled in my eyes. What choice did I have!? My own father took me to the gallows. What can I do? My arms wrapped around my head as it started to pound with too many questions and less answers. His arms tightened around me before he exhaled sharply. “I have an idea.” The storm that brewed fiercely within my head started to slow down. I looked up and his eyes gleamed with hope “What?” I asked and then suddenly I blinked and the emotion was no longer in his eyes. He hesitated. His mouth opened, then closed, like he was struggling to find the words. Even his hands seemed afraid to touch me. “Joel, please.” I begged but he turned his face away like a school boy caught doing something wrong. “Joel!” I yelled in frustration. Any suggestion right now was an option. Finally, he sighed and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “This isn’t how I planned on asking you…” His smile was sad as he closed his eyes and opened them slowly. “But circumstances call for it.” He took a steadying breath before locking eyes with me. “Nadia Armstrong, will you marry me?” My breath hitched. I wasn’t expecting anything from him, but that didn’t mean I expected this. This was the least expected idea I had ever come across. I took a step back. “Joel—” He held up a hand. “If you marry me, they lose their chance.” His voice was calm, but his grip on my wrist was ironclad. “They won’t risk an attempt if they think you’re protected. If they believe an heir is coming, no one will question your place on the throne.” His words settled in my chest like a stone. It wasn’t just about power. It was about survival. A part of me knew he was right. The other part? The part that had always belonged to my father, to my duty, to everything but myself? It screamed. But screaming wouldn’t keep me alive. My pulse thundered. I searched his eyes, weighing every possibility, every risk. Thirty minutes later, we walked out hand-in-hand. The hall quieted as we approached the table where my father sat. His gaze flickered between Joel and I before locking onto me, dark with warning. “Nadia?” he called, his voice laced with an edge. I squared my shoulders. If he was going to betray me, then I would surprise him, too. “Father,” I said, keeping my voice even. “As my first act of service, I will ensure the lineage continues.” A murmur rippled through the crowd. “I will be getting married.” I took a steadying breath. “To Joel. A week from now.” Silence. Then whispers. Then— A deafening roar. My father shot to his feet, his fist slamming against the table. “Over my dead body!” he bellowed. His face turned red, veins bulging. “My child will never marry a rogue!” Fear rippled through me but Joel’s hands were firm against mine, a firm pillar. My father noticed the gesture and his face got redder. His lips opened to say something else when… Suddenly, his voice cut off. His eyes widened. His body shuddered. His hand clutched his chest as he stumbled back, gasping. Time slowed. The man who had just named me Queen—the man who had shaped my entire life—was falling. The room exploded into chaos. I ran to him, dropping to my knees as I gripped his hand. “Dad!” His eyes—once full of pride—now held only pain. Then, they went still. “No,” I breathed. “No, please—” The physician checked his pulse. Then, with a solemn shake of his head, sealed my fate. A strangled sound left my throat. The world blurred. I staggered forward, reaching for him, but strong hands yanked me back. I thrashed, fought, screamed. “Let me go!” But the arms around me wouldn’t budge. The people who had celebrated with me just minutes ago now whispered in horror. I watched as they carried my father’s body away. I screamed until my voice cracked. Until my body gave out. Until I was locked inside a room, trapped in grief. Joel was there. His blue eyes filled with something dark. He pulled me into his arms, whispering, “It wasn’t your fault, Nadia.” I didn’t respond. How could I? I didn’t notice when Joel left the room or when he rushed back in until he shut the door with a severe bang. My head shot up in shock to find his eyes swimming in anguish. “What?” I questioned but Joel didn’t move from the door. His fingers twitched, his body stiff like a bowstring ready to snap. “What is it?” I whispered, my stomach twisting. He walked toward me slowly, sinking onto the edge of the bed. His hand found mine, but his grip was ice cold. “Nadia…” His voice wavered. “I don’t know how to tell you this.” My breath hitched. His hesitation—the way his blue eyes shined with something like grief—sent a fresh wave of terror rolling through me. “But your father…” He trailed off, lips pressing together like the words physically hurt him. My pulse pounded in my ears. “Joel,” I begged. He swallowed hard, then spoke. “He was poisoned.” The room swayed. I stiffened in his hold, my nails digging into his wrist. “No,” I breathed, shaking my head violently. “No, that’s not—” “The council found the taster,” Joel cut in, his voice tight. “He’s dead.” Dead. The word rang in my ears. “The food was meant for you.” My breath came in jagged gasps. It was supposed to be me. My father was dead because of me. Because someone wanted me gone. I clutched my chest as nausea rolled through me. My secret. Someone knew. Someone had tried to erase me. Joel’s grip tightened around my hands, My mind raced, nausea twisting in my gut. My father was gone. Someone wanted me dead. And Joel… he had seen this coming before I even realized it. I turned to him, my breath unsteady. “You were right.” His blue eyes darkened. “Then we need to act now. Because if we wait, they’ll strike again. And next time, they won’t miss.”