CLAIMED BY MY ALPHA STEPBROTHER

ELENA ROSSETTI The sound of the church bells echoes like a lament in the air, contrasting with the beauty of the sunny day. I walk down the central aisle, each step resonating like a sentence in my mind. The white dress that should symbolize purity and hope is a prison sewn with lace and satin. My trembling hands hold the bouquet of red roses, but my heart feels like it’s about to stop. Gregor waits for me at the altar. A man whose smile disguises intentions I’d rather not decipher. He is powerful, yes. Rich enough to ensure all my father’s debts are paid. But he is also old, cold, and repulsive. Every look he gives me makes my skin crawl—and not in a good way. My eyes quickly scan the faces of the guests. All eyes are on me, analyzing every detail. Some envy me for marrying such an influential man. Others seem sympathetic. But none of them know the truth: I have no choice. My family is in debt, and Gregor was clear. Either I become his wife, or my family will face terrible consequences. “Just walk…”, I repeat to myself, trying to stay in control as my shoes hit the marble floor. The church is decorated with white flowers, golden candelabras, and luxurious fabrics. All the splendor does not hide the bitterness dominating my chest. When I finally reach the altar, Gregor takes my hand. His skin is cold and rough, and a shiver runs down my spine. The priest begins the ceremony, but his words are a blur in my mind. Everything seems to happen in slow motion. The air is dense, suffocating, as if something terrible is about to happen. “Elena Rossetti, do you take Gregor Avalon as your husband?” The silence that follows is deafening. I open my mouth, but no words come out. My eyes scan the church once more, desperately searching for a way to escape this fate. And then, the church doors burst open with a crash. The sound echoes through the walls like thunder, and all the guests turn, horrified. Men dressed in black storm the place, armed to the teeth. Screams erupt. Panic. Some try to hide under the pews, while others freeze in shock. I stand paralyzed, my heart pounding in my chest. Before I can understand what’s happening, gunshots are fired into the air. Wood and glass fragments fall around me. Gregor shouts something, but his words are lost in the chaos. In the midst of the turmoil, a man appears. He walks among the others with an undeniable aura of authority. Tall and broad-shouldered, his black suit seems tailored to highlight every aspect of his dominant presence. But what truly catches my attention are his eyes. Golden eyes, cold and inhuman, that seem to pierce my soul with a single glance. He raises his hand, and silence falls over the church like a heavy blanket. When he speaks, his voice is deep, laden with authority. “Take the girl.” My panic rises. My heart pounds wildly as I try to step back, but Gregor grips me tightly. The men in black advance toward me, and I do the only thing I can think of: run. I break free from Gregor and dash down the aisle, but my high heels make every step a struggle. Before I can reach the side doors of the church, I trip over a fallen chair and collapse to my knees. Pain radiates through my legs, but I have no time to react. They are on me. “Let me go!”, I scream, struggling with all my strength. But they are too strong. One grabs my arms, another holds my legs. I kick and try to bite, but it’s in vain. Gregor yells something at the invaders, but more gunfire drowns out his voice. The smell of gunpowder fills the air, mixed with the scent of crushed flowers on the floor. I keep screaming, but my voice seems lost in the middle of the chaos. And then the man with golden eyes approaches. He walks slowly, as if he has all the time in the world, his steps echoing on the marble floor. When he reaches me, he leans in to observe me closely. There is something eerily calm about him—a confidence that makes my skin crawl. “Hello, little doll. You’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he says, his voice as cold as his eyes. I try to respond, but before I can, I feel something soft pressing against my face. A cloth. I hold my breath, but it’s too late. A sweet, nauseating scent invades my lungs. My screams grow weaker, and my vision starts to blur. I see his golden eyes one last time before everything fades to black. As my consciousness slips away, flashes of the day flood my mind: the white dress, the bouquet, Gregor’s deceitful smile. All of it vanishes like smoke in the wind. The last thing I hear is the voice of the golden-eyed man giving an order: “Take her. Now.” The rhythmic sound of helicopter blades is the first thing I register when I wake up. My eyes blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the dim light around me. Everything feels like it’s spinning, as if my own body is in constant motion. My first instinct is to move my arms, but icy panic grips me when I realize my wrists are tightly bound. Ropes dig into my skin, preventing any attempt to free myself. My mouth is also covered; a gag muffles any sound I try to make. My heart races as my eyes scan the space. I’m in a helicopter. Men dressed in black occupy the surrounding seats, their expressions hard, unreadable. I try to squirm, but every movement seems to draw their attention. One of them approaches, leaning in to check something on my restraints. “There’s no point in fighting, girl. We’re almost there.” That’s what he says, but his words make no sense to me. Where am I? Who are these people? My mind is in chaos, and the memory of what happened in the church hits me like a punch to the stomach. Gregor. The wedding. The invasion. And then… him. The man with the golden eyes. “Now you’re mine. I’ll take care of everything.” The cold, authoritative voice echoes through the helicopter, interrupting my thoughts. I look toward the source of the sound, and there he is. The man who commanded everything. His golden eyes meet mine for a brief moment, and something in the way he looks at me makes my blood run cold. It’s not just the imperious tone of his voice or his confident posture; it’s as if he has complete control of the situation—of me. Summoning all the strength I have, I try to struggle again, but it’s useless. Someone grips my head tightly and presses a cloth against my face. A sweet scent fills my nostrils. I try to hold my breath, but it’s too late. The world around me dissolves into darkness once again. I wake up again, but this time, the setting is completely different. I’m lying on something soft—a bed. My hands are free, and the gag is gone. My entire body aches, especially my head. Sitting up, I realize I’m still wearing the same wedding dress. The memory of the heavy, suffocating fabric makes me want to tear it off, but before I do, I look around. The room is luxurious, decorated with dark wood furniture and golden details. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, and heavy curtains block out the moonlight. The sophistication is suffocating, and my instincts tell me this place isn’t just expensive—it’s a prison. I run to the door, trying to open it, but it’s locked. My breathing quickens, and panic grows inside me. I start pounding on the door, screaming for help. “Let me out! Please! Someone!” But no one answers. The feeling of being trapped is almost unbearable. I search for another way out, and my eyes find the window. I run to it and pull back the curtains. What I see takes my breath away. It’s night. The full moon illuminates a landscape before me: a remote island surrounded by dark, turbulent waters. There are no signs of civilization nearby. My heart sinks as I realize I am completely isolated. With no time to hesitate, I open the window and look down. The height is terrifying, but I have no choice. I use the bed sheets, tying them into an improvised rope. I hear voices outside the door, and I know I don’t have much time. I slide down the makeshift rope, my heart pounding violently with each movement. When I get close to the ground, I lose control and fall with a painful impact. A sharp pain shoots through my head, but I force myself to get up. I can’t stop now. I grab the dress with my hands, running towards the trees. The dense forest is my only chance to escape. I hear shouts and hurried footsteps behind me. They noticed my escape. I run faster, but a sound makes my blood run cold. A long, menacing howl echoes in the night. I stop for a moment, looking back, and see something that makes my body freeze. A massive creature, with glowing eyes and sharp teeth, is running toward me. A werewolf. A scream escapes my lips as I start running again, but I trip on a root and fall hard to the ground. My head hits a rock, and the pain is unbearable. I feel something warm trickle down—blood. The werewolf is closer now. It howls again, and my heart feels like it’s about to explode. I try to get up, but before I can continue, I see something that makes me freeze. The man with the golden eyes is there, standing just behind me. His presence is almost as terrifying as the werewolf’s. He is calm, as if the scene before him is nothing more than a simple game. “Careful with the beasts, baby…”, he says, with a cold smile that makes me shiver. I gather enough courage to ask: “Who are you?” He doesn’t answer. Instead, he walks up to me and pulls me up with force. My reaction is instant: I raise my hand and slap him across the face with all my strength. But he doesn’t seem affected. Instead, he pushes me against a tree, pinning me in place. His face is close to mine, and his eyes, now even more golden, shine with something almost animalistic. “What are you?”, I ask, my voice filled with fear and defiance. His smile grows. “Me? I own you now.” I shake my head, screaming, “Never! You’re insane!” I try to fight, but he easily holds my arms, completely immobilizing me. We’re so close that I can feel his breath against my skin. My heart pounds wildly—not just from fear, but from something I can’t explain. “Stop fighting, baby.”, his voice is deep, full of authority. “The more you resist, the more fun it is for me.” I glare at him, my eyes burning with rage and confusion. But one thing is clear: he is not human. “I want to leave. Why am I here?”, I say, feeling the tears in my eyes. “You’ll soon have all the answers you need.” The man turns his head, calling over two more men who approach. I stop breathing when he tries to lift me over his shoulder. I use my legs to kick him, but he dodges, and before I can keep fighting, I feel the cloth soaked in liquid pressed against my face again, and everything goes dark once more.