Alpha’s last choice

Chapter 1: The Wrong Groom They say every girl dreams of her wedding day, especially the dress, the flowers, and the slow-motion walks down the aisle as dramatic music swells and birds explode from the rafters like some kind of Disney finale. But Calla? She was just trying not to faint in the painful heels and a tight corset that felt like it was squeezing the life out of her. “Just breathe,” her best friend Harper whispered, fixing her veil like it was the last decoration on a wedding cake that might collapse at any second. “You’re marrying Theo Black. He looks like a mix of wild and perfect. You’ve got this.” Calla wasn’t convinced. Her hands were shaking like they had minds of their own. Whereas, her bouquet felt heavy, like a bunch of bricks wrapped in flowers. And the nerves in her stomach? They felt sharp and wild. The music began. The huge church doors creaked open in a dramatic and loud way like something out of an old movie. Everyone turned to look. Calla took a deep breath and stepped forward. One step. Then another. She saw him standing at the altar. Broad shoulders with dark hair, looking tall and elegant. Power radiated from him like the sun had decided to take a human form. But something was…off. That wasn’t Theo. Her steps faltered. Her mother gave her a sharp nod and a glare from the front pew to keep walking, or I will personally drag you by the hem kind of look. Calla’s heart thundered, as panic bloomed. She kept walking because what else could she do? Her life felt like a slow-motion train wreck. She soon reached the altar, and the man turned to face her fully, his icy gray eyes pinning her like a butterfly on display. “Dominic?” she choked. He was the wrong brother, and the wrong groom. He was the alpha she feared most, Theo’s older brother. The one who didn’t smile, ever. “Where’s Theo?” she whispered, her heart racing. Dominic’s jaw ticked once. “Gone.” Gone? “Wh-what do you mean by gone?” “He left. Cold feet, disgraceful. But the marriage must proceed. For the alliance.” “I—I can’t just marry you! We didn’t even date! We barely speak! "You once threw my coffee in a trash can and told me caffeine made people weak!” He blinked slowly. “And yet, here we are.” Before she could launch into a full-blown meltdown, a man stepped forward with a scroll. An actual scroll. “This is a bond contract,” he explained smoothly. “Signing it will officially unite the Riverbend Pack and the Black River Pack under Alpha Dominic Black, for peace.” “Peace?” she echoed. “I thought this was for love!” Dominic looked vaguely insulted. “Love is for stories. This is real life.” Calla wanted to scream, but she was surrounded. Her father’s eyes begged her, while the crowd held their breath. Even Harper gave her a frantic thumbs-up. Betrayal. So Calla did the only thing she could do. She signed the contract but with a shaky hand and a stomach full of dread, she signed away her freedom and became Mrs. Dominic Freaking Black. The moment the ink dried, Dominic took her hand in a not so gentle manner and whisked her straight out of the ceremony. No kisses, no vows and no cake. “You owe me a cake,” she muttered as she stumbled into his sleek black SUV. He didn’t respond. Of course he didn’t. Why speak to your brand-new wife when brooding in silence was apparently a full-time job? They drove for hours, past the city, past the towns, and then straight into the woods where the Wi-Fi signals were cut off. Finally, the car pulled up to a massive stone estate tucked into the mountains. The kind of house that screamed, Yes, I’m rich, but I also may or may not own a dungeon. Calla stepped out and looked up. “Great. I married Batman.” Inside, things only got worse. The halls were long and cold. The portraits on the wall seemed to judge her, while the servants bowed stiffly, not quite meeting her eyes. As she moved, whispers followed her everywhere. “She’s the human girl, right?” “I heard she bribed Theo to marry her.” “She looks too soft to be our Luna.” Soft? Rude. Dominic showed her to her wing. Yes, her wing, like this was some royal palace and left her at the door like a package he didn’t remember ordering. “I’ll have someone bring your things,” he said, already turning. “Wait,” she called. “So…are we gonna talk?” “About?” “Maybe…what just happened? You hijacked my wedding.” “I saved it.” “I don’t feel saved.” He looked at her in a cold calculative way then said. “Get used to it. This is your life now.” Then he was gone. Calla stared at the closed door in shock before turning around the room. There was a huge bed, a fireplace and velvet curtains. Romantic? Yes. Prison-like? Also yes. “I should’ve married that barista,” she muttered. **** Days passed. Dominic avoided her like she was made of poison. Meals were eaten separately, while communication came through notes like they were in some Victorian tragedy. She caught glimpses of him at council meetings, walking through the halls, always flanked by serious-looking wolves who glared at her like she’d spilled soup on their ancestors. Even his pack hated her. One time, she waved at a woman in the corridor. The woman actually flinched in fear. “I swear I won't bite,” Calla muttered to the air. She started naming the statues just for company. Gregory the Grim held a sword and reminded her of Dominic. Miserable and pointy. On the fifth day, she snapped. Dinner was served in the grand dining hall with a very long table. Fancy silverware and enough candles to burn the place down. Dominic sat at the head, flanked by his Beta and three other growly men. Calla was placed at the other end like she had the plague. Nope. Not tonight. She stood and marched straight to his side. “I’m not doing this anymore.” Dominic looked up slowly. “Doing what?” “This silent treatment. This haunted house situation. I’m your wife, not your pet rock. Talk to me, or growl at least. You can even howl. Do something.” The room went dead silent. One of the guards choked on his soup, while the Beta dropped his fork. Dominic’s eyes darkened. “Careful, little Luna.” “No,” Calla said, slapping her napkin on the table. “I didn’t sign up to be your wall decoration. You want a Luna? Treat me like a person.” He stood up, towering over her. His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “Disrespect me again, Calla, and you’ll learn why everyone fears the Black Alpha.” Calla’s heart stuttered. But she didn’t flinch. She turned on her heel and stormed out, head held high, even if her knees were knocking like castanets. That night, she packed her bags. She didn’t know where she’d go, but anywhere with less murdery vibes would do. Sneaking out proved harder than expected. There were guards, sensors and lossibly traps. What kind of man booby-trapped his garden? She made it to the woods before she heard a low rough, predatory growl. Then something tackled her to the ground. “Ahhh!” she screamed, flailing. Strong hands pinned her as warm breath brushed her cheek. “Are you insane?” Dominic hissed. “Do you think you can just run off into the woods like a child?” “Let me go!” she snapped, wriggling beneath him. But he didn’t move. For a moment, their eyes locked, and something flickered in his eyes like pain? Regret? Then it was gone, and he was the cold Alpha back again. “Go home,” he growled. Then he was gone, vanishing into the darkness like a very sexy ghost. Calla stumbled back to the mansion, cursing him with every step she made. The next morning, a note was slid under her door. "Next time, I’ll chain you to the damn wall. D" She laughed really hard at the words. And something inside her stirred. Maybe fear, or maybe something else. Maybe curiosity.