Reborn As The Villain Alpha's Bride

Chapter 1: The Price of Devotion There are two ways to break a wolf: tear out her throat, or force her to watch the man she sacrificed her life for build his kingdom on her family’s graves. Prince Lucien chose both. And he didn't even flinch. The heavy silver chains binding my wrists cut down to the bone, the sacred metal burning through my skin like hot liquid iron, suppressing my wolf until my knees buckled against the freezing stone of the execution platform. The white silk dress I wore was ruined, stained with filth and dark patches of my own blood. Below the high platform, thousands of pack members filled the royal execution square. People I had protected. Warriors I had healed on the front lines. Today, they weren't throwing flowers. "Traitor!" a woman screamed from the front row. "Murderer!" a warrior roared, throwing a sharp stone that cracked the skin on my forehead. I didn't turn my head. I didn't cry out. My heart was already dead. A loud drumbeat echoed across the square as the royal herald stepped forward onto the stone balcony above us, unfurling a heavy parchment scroll. "Hear ye, members of the High Pack!" the herald bellowed. "By order of the Royal Council, Lyra of House Ashbourne stands convicted of treason against the Crown, the murder of Lady Sienna, conspiracy with rogue wolves, and the betrayal of the kingdom!" The crowd cheered wildly. I didn't argue. I didn't shout my innocence into the cold air. If they wanted a villain, they found one. I had lost the will to defend myself. As I stared at the blood dripping from my knuckles, the bitter memories of my first life rushed back in a single wave. I had been so blind. I had convinced my father to hand over House Ashbourne’s elite armies to Lucien, bled in the muddy trenches healing his war wounds, and publicly shielded his cruelty to make him look like a hero. I gave him the strategic advice that won his throne and ignored my brother’s frantic warnings when royal troops marched toward our border. I helped him build an empire—and handed him the blade to slaughter my blood. The heavy oak doors of the balcony swung open, and the crowd erupted. "All hail Prince Lucien!" He stepped into the morning sunlight, breathtaking and carved from cold marble. He wore black royal armor trimmed with pure gold, his dark blue eyes devoid of any warmth as he looked down at me. No regret. No memory of the nights we spent whispering dreams of the future. Looking at him now, the violent, suffocating love that had ruled my life simply snapped. It didn't burn away in anger—it evaporated into pure nothingness. My dry lips parted. "Why?" My voice wasn't loud, but in the sudden quiet of the square, it sounded like a crack of thunder. I didn't say Save me. I didn't scream I’m innocent. Just... "Why?" Lucien raised a single hand. "Clear the platform," he commanded smoothly. "Leave us." The guards bowed and pulled the herald back inside. Lucien walked down the grand stone staircase, stopping feet away from where I knelt. The familiar scent of his expensive cedarwood cologne drifted over me, making my stomach turn. "You want an answer, Lyra?" Lucien asked quietly, leaning down so only I could hear. "You always were so terribly dramatic." "I gave you my family," I rasped, blood coating my teeth. "My father’s armies... my brother..." "Your father was too powerful, and House Ashbourne was a threat to the throne," Lucien whispered, his voice smooth as silk and cold as grave dirt. "I needed your family's influence to win the war, so I used a sweet, foolish girl who hung on my every word. You delivered your father's troops directly into my hands, and once the southern borders were secured, your house was no longer necessary." A suffocating darkness pressed against my chest. "The fire at the manor...? The slaughter?" "I signed the order myself," Lucien replied without a flicker of remorse. "You were never going to be my Luna, Lyra. You were just my greatest weapon. And now that the war is over... weapons get discarded." He straightened up, brushing a speck of dust off his cape, leaving the true depths of the royal conspiracy hidden behind his cold eyes. A broken, hysterical laugh tore out of my throat. I laughed through the blood in my mouth until tears ran hot tracks down my dirt-caked cheeks. I had destroyed my own lineage. I was the reason House Ashbourne was wiped from the earth. Lucien looked down at me with disgust, turning his back as he began walking away. "Execute her." The executioner stepped forward, lifting a heavy silver broadsword high into the air, its polished edge gleaming in the sunlight. I closed my eyes, letting my forehead rest against the cold wood. Moon Goddess, I prayed silently into the dark abyss. If you have any mercy left... give me another chance. Give me the power to burn his kingdom to ash. "For the Crown!" The blade sliced through the air—and then, total darkness. GASP! Air slammed violently back into my lungs. I sat up straight in bed, my chest heaving, hands flying to my neck. No blood. No execution square. I blinked, taking in the warm sunlight streaming through high arched windows and the scent of fresh lavender. I was sitting on a canopy bed draped in rich crimson silk—my childhood bedroom at Ashbourne Manor. I looked down at my hands. They were smooth, pale, and unblemished. "Lady Lyra!" The heavy oak door flew open, and Clara my childhood maid who had died five years ago—rushed in holding a silver tray. "You're finally awake!" Clara giggled setting the tray down. "You need to get dressed right away, my lady! The Duke and Lord Julian are waiting downstairs!" My heart stopped. "Julian...?" "Yes, your brother!" Clara laughed. "Tomorrow is your formal engagement banquet with Prince Lucien, after all!" The room went deathly quiet in my ears. Engagement banquet. Eighteen years old. The Moon Goddess hadn't just heard my prayer—she had thrown me back five years into the past. I swung my legs out of bed and walked over to the tall mirror. The girl looking back at me was eighteen, skin glowing and eyes clear. But deep within those eyes burned the cold, ruthless spirit of a woman who had already died on the block. Clara pulled a dress from the wardrobe. "Prince Lucien requested you wear royal blue to match his house colors" "Cancel it," I commanded quietly, my chin high and eyes flashing with an icy glint. "Prepare my black dress." Clara blinked, holding the silk gown to her chest. "M-my lady... Prince Lucien specifically requested royal blue." I looked out the window toward the distant spires of the Royal Palace. "Then Prince Lucien is about to learn he no longer decides my future.”..........