MARRIED TO THE WRONG ALPHA

CHAPTER TWO: THE TRANSFORMATION

The following morning, I opened my eyes to find Damian, my older brother, by my bedside, and his face lit up as soon as he saw my eyelids lift.

“Good morning, Arianna,” he spoke gently, his tone blending happiness with worry. “Dad requested that I watch over you.”

I smiled faintly, appreciative of his company. “Thank you, Damian.” "But... why do I feel so odd?” I inquired, observing the constriction of wraps on my arms and legs. A feeling of panic started to rise in my chest.

"What occurred to me?" I inquired once more, my tone increasing.

"Don't you recall?" Damian leaned in, worry clearly visible on his face. "You collapsed and tumbled down the stairs yesterday evening." You fractured your hand and leg. Arianna, you’re fortunate it didn’t turn out worse.

I blinked in shock, gazing at the gauze encircling my arms and legs. “However…” I paused, stretching my fingers and shifting my leg a bit. "I don't experience any discomfort."

Damian scowled. “What are you trying to say?” You’re all bruised and—” He halted halfway through as I tossed the covers aside and swung my legs off the bed. Without hesitation, I rose, maintaining perfect balance.

“Damian, I’m okay,” I replied, stepping ahead. There was no weakness, no pain. I glided smoothly.

He stood up, eyes open wide. "Arianna, you shouldn't be walking at all right now." You have a broken leg! “How are you positioned?”

I shrugged, the understanding striking me as forcefully as it struck him. "I have no idea." "Perhaps the doctor made an error in the diagnosis?"

Damian brushed his fingers through his hair, astonishment flashing on his face. "This is... strange, Arianna." Truly strange.

Before I had the chance to reply, a sudden, intense sound cut through my ears. It wasn't an ordinary sound—it was voices. Far-off, intersecting voices, lamenting in agony and fury. I grasped my head, wincing.

“Cease!” I wept, yet the voices only became louder, more demanding.

“Cease what?” Damian's voice was tinged with anxiety. “Arianna, are you alright?”

“Don’t you hear that?” I murmured, looking at him. His confused look indicated all I needed to understand—he was unable to hear them.

"Perhaps you remain lightheaded," Damian proposed carefully. “Let’s go, take a seat again.”

I put on a smile, nodding as though I concurred. However, deep inside, I sensed that something was amiss. Those screams—loud, urgent—were not ordinary. They seemed… recognizable.

Months went by, and I attempted to erase that morning from my memory, immersing myself in daily routines. By the time I turned twenty, the event had receded in my thoughts, overshadowed by the thrill of my impending birthday festivities. My father had spared no effort, turning the mansion into a display of opulence. Visitors crowded the home, their laughter and conversation echoing in every area.

“Happy birthday, my precious princess,” my dad said, kissing my forehead as he gave me a beautifully wrapped present. “Unseal it.”

I ripped off the wrapping to unveil an elaborate necklace, its pendant sparkling in the light. "It was your mother's," he said, his tone becoming gentler. "I believed it was the right moment for you to receive it."

"Thanks, Dad," I murmured, my heart overflowing with feelings. "I’ll cherish it always."

The celebration was flawless, but something seemed amiss. The atmosphere felt denser, the laughter muted. I couldn’t rid myself of the sense that someone—or something—was observing me.

Later that night, I asked to be excused to the restroom, longing for a moment to myself. After cleaning my hands, I looked out the window—and stopped in my tracks.

A pale wolf was positioned in the garden beneath, its striking blue eyes fixed on me.

“Unthinkable,” I whispered, moving nearer to the window. The wolf remained still, didn’t close its eyes. It just gazed.

"Is that you, Arianna?" The sound of a maid interrupted my reverie. "Is everything alright?"

I looked at her, my heart racing. The wolf. “Did you witness it?” I pointed to the window.

The maid scowled, glancing outside. "Ma'am, there's nothing present."

I glanced once more. She was correct. The wolf had vanished.

That evening, fatigue overtook me. I rested in bed, the gentle light of the moon shining through my curtains. Just when I was on the verge of falling asleep, a soft voice resonated in my thoughts.

"Now is the moment, Arianna." "You are prepared."

I shot up straight, my breath uneven. "Who's present?" I murmured softly into the shadows. The voice remained silent, yet a gust of cold wind rushed into the room, bringing along the distinct aroma of the woods.

A gentle growl caused me to turn abruptly. There, positioned at the side of my bed, was the white wolf. Its coat shone in the moonlight, its eyes radiating an eerie brightness.

"You… How did you manage to enter this place?" I stuttered, backing myself against the headboard. The wolf inched nearer, its motions deliberate and unhurried.

Before I had the chance to scream, a crippling pain surged through my body. I bent forward, gripping my sides as my bones started to move and snap. My skin felt like it was on fire, my muscles contorted, and my sight became hazy. I yelled, but it wasn’t like a person it was a deep, primal noise.

Once the pain eased, I opened my eyes and staggered toward the mirror. The image looking back at me was unidentifiable. White fur enveloped my body, my hands had transformed into claws, and my eyes… They were the same striking blue as the wolf’s.

The door flew open, revealing my father in the doorway, his expression ashen. His gaze shifted from me to the wolf, and then returned once more.

“Arianna…” he whispered, his voice hardly heard.

“Dad,” I attempted to say, but it emerged as a deep growl. I moved a step ahead, and he recoiled.

“No,” he murmured, nodding his head in refusal. "It's occurring." "It's truly occurring."

"What is going on?" I snarled, my voice shaking with urgency.

He gulped deeply, his hands clutching the door frame for stability. “You're her child,” he stated, his tone laden with feeling. “You are the child of your mother.” I wished—prayed—that it wouldn’t reach this point. "Yet the wolf's blood flows powerfully within you."

"What are you referring to?" I insisted, my claws piercing into the ground.

"The wolves you have envisioned, the sounds you have sensed… They are a part of you, Arianna." You're more than just human. "You belong to that group."

I gazed at him, my thoughts racing. All at once, everything my power, the sounds, the wolf became clear. Yet with that understanding emerged a haunting question: Who or what had I really become?