Taking Her Place

Rebecca’s POV

​“You have to help me, Becca. Please… take my place. I can't marry Enzo. I won't,” Clara whispered, her voice trembling as much as her hands.

​I stared at her, certain the sleeping pills were playing tricks on my mind. Then I let out a dry, hollow laugh. “You’re joking. You have to be joking."

​"I'm not," she snapped, her eyes darting toward the door as if someone were listening. "I love someone else. I’ve loved him for years, Becca. I’m eloping with Jackson. My bags are already hidden at the border of the pack territory. I’m leaving today."

​The cotton in my brain cleared instantly, replaced by a cold shock. "Jackson? The Delta? Clara, if Father finds out, he’ll—"

​"He won't find out if everyone thinks I'm at the altar," she pleaded, grabbing my wrists. "You have to do this. You have to marry him."

​"No," I said, pulling away, the memory of last night hitting me like a physical blow. "Enzo won't marry me. He made that very clear. Besides, I've given up on him, Clara. He’s yours. He chose you."

​"Rebecca, listen to me," Clara said, her voice dropping to an intense whisper. "Enzo loves you. He has always loved you."

​"That’s a lie!" I shouted, the words tearing out of my throat. "He hates me. He calls me a child. He... he let me watch him with Sasha last night. He broke me, Clara!"

​She shook her head vigorously, a strange look of pity in her eyes. "Believe me. I mean it. You’ll see it soon enough—he loves you more than his own life, and deep down, you know it. Everything he’s done, all the cruelty... it was a mask."

​I wanted to tell her she was lying. I wanted to scream that he was a monster. But deep in the pit of my stomach, a tiny, traitorous spark of hope flickered. If what she said was true... then last night wasn't just my torture. It was his, too.

​"Take my place," she urged. "Marry him and be happy. I’ll go with Jackson and be happy. It’s the only way we both get what we want."

​"Why didn't you just reject the marriage then?" I asked, my head spinning. "If you don't want him, why go through all this stress?"

​"It’s complicated, Becca. Father would never allow a rejection. He needs this alliance. If I say no, he’ll be disappointed. But if I 'disappear' after the vows are swapped... it'll be too late to change."

​"Enzo won't agree," I argued, my heart hammering against my ribs. "He’ll know. He’ll see me at the altar and stop the ceremony."

​Clara reached for the heavy, velvet veil sitting on my vanity. It was thick, embroidered with silver thread, designed to cover the bride's face entirely until the final blessing.

​"Not when your face is covered," she said, her eyes flashing with a final, desperate hope. "He won't see your face until after the vow... He’ll think you’re me until it’s too late to turn back."

​I looked from the veil to my sister's panicked face. I had just promised myself I was letting him go. But now, the chance to be his—to be his wife, his Luna—was being handed to me.

​"He'll kill me when he finds out," I whispered.

​"No," Clara said, a sad smile touching her lips. "He’ll finally have an excuse to stop pretending."

​I wanted to believe her, but I just couldn’t.

​"No!" I stood up, the room spinning as the sleeping pills fought with my sudden adrenaline. "I can’t do this. I’m not a second choice, and I’m not a pawn in your escape plan."

​"Becca, please!" She dropped to her knees, clutching the hem of my nightgown. "Look at me. I am terrified. If I stay, I’ll spend my life with a man who looks through me as if I’m made of glass. But you... every time you enter a room, Enzo’s entire scent changes. He tracks you like a predator, even when he’s pretending to ignore you. Why do you think he was so cruel last night? Because you almost broke his resolve!"

​"He fucked Sasha, Clara! Right in front of me!"

​"Because he was desperate!" she cried, tears finally spilling over. "He’s trying to kill his feelings... He thinks if he makes you hate him, you’ll be safe. He thinks you're too fragile for the darkness he carries. But he’s wrong. You're the only one who can handle him. If you don’t do this, four lives are ruined. His, mine, Jackson’s, and yours. Please, Becca. Trust me, you will thank me for this. You’ll finally have the man you’ve dreamed of since you were a girl."

​Frustrated, I closed my eyes... I told myself I had given up on Enzo. I told myself the girl who loved him died last night.

​Well... I lied.

​The hunger for him was still there... I wanted to be the one he held. ​I wanted to know what it would feel like to belong to him completely... not as the unwanted younger sister, but as his wife. His Luna.

​"Okay," I whispered, my heart feeling like it was about to burst. "I'll do it."

​Clara let out a sob of relief and scrambled to her feet. "Thank you. Thank you, Becca. Come, quickly."

​I followed her to her suite next door. It felt like walking toward my own execution—or my rebirth.

​"Where are the maids?" I asked nervously as we entered the empty room.

​"I sent them away to gather special flowers for the ceremony," Clara replied quickly. "Now hurry. We don't have much time."

She dragged me into the bathroom..

"Strip. Now."

​I bathed with her expensive, rose-scented soap, scrubbing my skin until it was red. I rubbed her heavy, floral cream into my skin, hoping the scent would mask my own. Then, she pulled the wedding gown over my head. It was a masterpiece of white lace and heavy silk, cinched so tight I could barely breathe.

​She draped the thick, velvet veil over my head. The world turned into a silver-threaded blur.

​"What if he catches my scent, Clara?" I asked, my voice muffled by the fabric. "Enzo is smart. Even if I’m wearing your clothes and your perfume, his wolf is sharp. He’ll know the second I stand next to him."

​"He won't," Clara whispered, pinning the veil in place. "He’s so focused on repressing his feelings for you that he’ll mistake your scent for a hallucination. He’ll think his mind is playing tricks on him because he wants you so badly. By the time he realizes the truth..."

​She swallowed hard.

​"...you'll already be married."

​She grabbed her cloak and kissed my cheek through the veil. "Be happy, Becca. Be the Luna I never wanted to be."

​Then, she was gone, leaving me standing in the center of her room.

​I sat down on the edge of the stool, the heavy silk of the dress covering my feet. Inside my mind, my wolf moved around. She was restless. "Becca," she whimpered, her voice full of worry. "I sense something wrong."

​"I have a bad feeling, too," I whispered back to her.

​Suddenly, the click of the door handle made my heart jump. Two maids walked in, carrying the flowers Clara had sent them to find. I froze and held my breath. My skin felt cold with fear.

​"Oh, My Lady! You look beautiful," one of them said. She had no idea that the girl under the veil was actually the disappointing younger sister. They started fixing the bottom of the dress. The smell of the roses they carried mixed with Clara’s strong perfume.

​"The guests are all sitting down," the other maid added. "And your groom... oh, Clara, he is so handsome today. He’s walking back and forth at the altar like a king. I’ve never seen Alpha Enzo look so serious."

​I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood. I wanted so badly to ask what he was wearing. Was he in black or silver? Was his hair neat, or was it messy like it gets when he’s angry? But I stayed quiet. I couldn’t make a sound. If they heard my voice, they would know I wasn't Clara.

​Luckily, Clara and I were almost the same size. We were the same height, and even though I was a little thinner than her, the dress pulled me in to look just like her. Under the layers of lace and the thick veil, I looked exactly like her.

​"It’s a shame about your sister," the first maid whispered, leaning in as if sharing a secret. I stiffened. "Rebecca is nowhere to be found. Your father isn't even bothered, though. He told the Beta that she’s likely just throwing a tantrum to try and end the wedding. He said she’ll come crawling back when the wedding is over."

​A dull ache throbbed in my chest. Even now, my father sees my pain as nothing more than a childish display.

​The heavy oak door creaked open, revealing one of the palace guards standing outside with his head bowed respectfully.

​"My Lady," he announced formally.

​"It is time."