The Alpha's Hybrid Bride

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er on the arm. "Come inside," she said, gesturing toward the entrance. As we moved inside, a high-pitched squeal echoed through the grand hall. "Lysander!" A petite blonde darted forward, throwing herself into his arms. Her delicate frame seemed to melt against him as she tilted her head up, big blue eyes searching his face. "I missed you, Ly," she pouted. I felt Mila, my wolf, stir with irritation, her bristle matching my sudden discomfort. I clenched my jaw, refusing to let it show. This was nothing. Nothing. Lysander smiled down at her, his expression softer than I had seen. "Rina," he said, his voice warm but composed. "It's good to see you." The woman's arms tightened around his waist as she leaned closer, clearly ignoring my presence. A shard of glass seemed to pierce my chest, an all-too-familiar ache of betrayal washing over me. Memories of Leon's betrayal flashed through my mind, stoking a quiet rage I fought to suppress. I stood still, forcing my expression to remain calm. The room felt heavy, but I wasn't about to make a scene. Not here. Not yet. When the woman finally looked up and noticed me, her bright eyes dimmed slightly. "And who is this?" she asked, her voice dripping with polite disinterest. "This is Rebecca," Lysander said, his tone steady. He placed a hand on my lower back, pulling me slightly closer. "My wife." The word seemed to land like a bomb, and the woman blinked, clearly caught off guard. Her smile faded, but she quickly recovered, stepping back and smoothing her dress. "Oh," she said, her tone laced with surprise. "How... unexpected." She chuckled uncomfortably. "I thought it was a prank." "It isn't," I replied, my voice light but firm, meeting her gaze without flinching. Mila calmed slightly at my response, but the discomfort lingered like a bitter taste on my tongue. Lysander's mother cleared her throat, breaking the tension. "Why don't we all head inside? Dinner is ready, and I'm sure Rebecca could use a proper welcome." Lysander didn't release his hold on me as he guided us forward. The blonde-Rina, as he'd called her-trailed behind, her eyes lingering on him with a longing that made my stomach twist. Whatever game I'd stepped into, it was already proving to be far more complicated than I'd anticipated. I was led to the inner sitting room, where Lysander proceeded to relay the entire fiasco to his mother and some officials. Once in a while, his mother would laugh, while Rina's expression remained sour. Our eyes met across the room, and the sharpness of her gaze should have been able to impale me. I held her gaze, unwilling to show weakness. She looked away, her mouth twisting with disdain. She was going to be a problem, I decided. I definitely wasn't going to be taking any random cups of tea from her. I had an inkling I would end up dying for the second time, that is, if she didn't strangle me in my sleep first. "Rebecca," Lysander called. "Yes?" "How does some rest sound? You mus