The Mad Alpha's Substitute Bride

(ALICE)

My eyes are only half open as I stare at the brightly lit chandelier above me. I can’t move anymore. I can’t scream anymore. I can feel my body growing cold. Is this what death is like? Will I finally be at peace now?

The pain stops.

I close my eyes, wanting to laugh miserably. Why is it that every time I am on the cusp of death, I am not allowed to die? Even now, I’m still breathing.

Why?

Someone is holding me to them, lifting me up. I hear Mary’s cries. "Alice! Alice, look at me!"

I open one eye, but I can’t focus at first. I don’t want to focus. I want this to end.

"The sealing is complete. We will brand her now. Step aside, please. We are going to remove her clothing."

"That’s enough!" I hear Jason say angrily. "She’s been through enough. You can do that later!"

"Your Highness—" I see the witch closest to me turn toward Darian.

"Does she have to be stripped of her clothes for the branding?" Darian asks calmly. It’s almost as if he’s unaffected by the agony I just underwent. Of course he is. He orchestrated this. "Yes," the witch insists.

He’s going to agree, isn’t he?! He wants me to suffer. Having me naked and branded like an animal, like livestock, would be the last nail in the coffin.

I can feel my mind begin to fragment.

Hide me.

Hide me where I can stop feeling.

"Your Majesty!" Jason raises his voice again. "Even if the prince does not care about his fated mate, she’s still a young girl. There’s no need to subject her to such humiliating torture. She has done nothing. If the branding is absolutely necessary, it can be done later, once she has recovered, and in a private setting."

"Why are you trying to save her?" Willow retorts. "She’s not a shifter. She’s a dark witch—"

"Shut up!" Jason snarls at her. "I am not talking to you!"

"Are you going to let him speak to me this way?" Willow demands of Darian.

My fated mate, the man who so skillfully manipulated me, stirs at the insult to his intended. "Willow is to be the future queen. Watch your mouth, Alpha Marrock." His tone is harsh.

"Supposed to be," Jason snarls. "And I was talking to your father, not you. Your Majesty, please!"

"I agree with Alpha Marrock," King Griffin says, his voice uneven. "There’s no need to humiliate the girl. Take her to her room."

"The ritual has to be completed!" the white witches protest.

"And it will be," the king responds sharply. "But not here. And not till she recovers. She looks half dead. I do not appreciate this. Take Miss Lane to her room now!"

Someone is picking me up, but I don’t know who it is. Jason’s face swims into my vision, and I use the last bit of my strength to whisper weakly to him, "Kill me. Please."

His eyes soften, and I see the pity in them. "I can’t do that." My arm falls limply to my side.

I feel myself fading in and out of consciousness, my awareness declining. At some point, there’s a bed underneath me. A wet cloth is being rubbed gently across my face. I can hear someone sobbing.

Why?

Why waste tears on me?

I feel the warmth of healing magic, but it doesn’t have the impact on me that it usually does.

I’m relieved.

Mary’s voice is shaking. "Alice. You can’t give up. My healing magic isn’t going to work if you lose your will to live. Don’t do this."

My eyes remain closed. Lose the will to live? That sounds about right. I try to chase the darkness. I feel safe there.

I hear somebody crying softly, but it doesn’t bother me. Nothing bothers me. I can see the end approaching. It’s just a waiting game now. I’m tired of reality. I’m tired of having to face it all.

What is there to live for, anyway? I’ve been called a dark witch. I’m going to be branded like livestock. And I’m sure Darian has other plans to torture me. Why should I stick around for that?

The door creaks, and then I hear a familiar voice. "How is she doing?"

"She’s not—She’s in and out, Jason. I’m trying, but she doesn’t want to live."

"There’s someone here to see her."

Silence, and then Mary’s shocked voice. "Your Majesty! Why are you here?"

"I wish to have a word with Alice."

The shock is followed by anger. "If you’re here about the branding, don’t bother." Mary’s voice is thick with tears. "She doesn’t want to live. Look at her. Her body is rejecting my healing magic. I can’t force her to live. I made her come to the mating gathering. She didn’t even want to be here. This is all my fault. Everything is my fault. I told her that Darian—that he—"

"It’s not your fault, child. Please give me some time with Miss Lane. I wish to speak to her, even if she is unconscious."

"Come, Mary." Jason’s voice is firm. It feels like I’m floating in the room, but everything is dark. However, I can hear each and every word.

The door closes, and then the bed creaks. "This isn’t what I wanted for you."

Why does the king sound regretful? He should be happy.

"I know you can hear me, Alice. Open your eyes. I can hear the shift in your heartbeat."

Open my eyes? I can barely function.

"I don’t want you to give up." His tone is hard now. "Your life isn’t over. I made a mistake once, and I will not repeat it. I want you to live, Alice. I want you to have a happy life. Your world hasn’t ended just yet. Your life has just begun."

My eyes flutter open, but my vision is blurred. I can’t make out the king’s face, but I can see where he is.

There’s something I want to say to him, just one question I need to ask him.

My voice is hoarse. "I didn’t d–do anything to you. Why did you d–do this to me?" Getting those words past my throat is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

He takes my hand in his, but I still can’t discern his features. "This wasn’t my doing. I promise you I am going to facilitate a way for you to leave.

Alice, you will not be branded. You will not suffer. I will make sure nobody gets to you. Consider this my gift to you. I wish I could have done more."

He gets to his feet, and before I can stop myself, my hand reaches out to grab his sleeve. But my grasp is weak, and my hand falls back down. He notices and wraps his withered hand around mine.

"Do you want to say something to me?"

"Why won’t you let me die?" I gripe, forcing the words out.

He’s silent, and then he strokes my hair so gently that tears come to my eyes. "It’s a selfish reason. You remind me of someone precious. Live a good life, Alice. And remember, you are not weak, and you are not worthless. I meant what I said. You don’t owe the world anything."

I watch him leave. I don’t owe the world anything? The world doesn’t seem to think that way. It’s collecting some sort of vicious debt from me.

I find myself fading away again. The next time my eyes open, I’m in the back of a car. I hear someone panting, and then I hear Jason say, "Don’t give up. Just a few more minutes, and we will be there."

Mary’s voice is strained. "Her heart is quitting. I’m trying to hold on!" Jason’s voice is hard. "Just a few more minutes."

The world fades to black again.

The next thing I see is that I am in some sort of hospital room. My body feels stronger, but I am so tired. I look at the ceiling wearily. Exhaustion fills me.

"Why am I still alive?"

My voice is whisper-soft, but it wakes up the person sleeping in the chair beside my bed. Mary jumps to her feet, and when her face flies into my field of vision, I realize that I can see clearly now.

"Oh, thank God, Alice. I thought we lost you!" Mary sniffles, taking my hand in hers.

"Where am I?"

"A private clinic. How are you feeling?"

"Why did you save me, Mary?"

My friend looks at me, her eyes welling with tears. "You are very important to me, Alice. I don’t care if the whole world is against you. I believe in you. And I can’t lose you."

Her words should make me feel better, but I just feel tired. "They called me a dark witch. Darian—He orchestrated it all. He told me—" I don’t want to think about it. "But I was nothing to him. He crushed me like a bug under

his shoe. I just don’t want to—I know you must think I’m weak but—"

"I don’t think you’re weak," Mary says fiercely. "I think you are incredibly strong. And you have to be even stronger now. You have to recover and live the life you wanted to live."

I sigh, a hollow sound.

Mary grips my hands, her expression grim. "There’s a reason you have to live now."

That’s when I notice the blood on her hands.

I look over the side of my bed and see a woman lying there, dead.

"Mary?" I ask cautiously.

My friend swallows. "There’s something you need to know."