Mated To My Dead Husband's Twin
I thought marrying into the Barrett dynasty would be my fairy tale, but my wedding day felt more like a business merger. My husband, Jarret, didn't even look at me as he checked his watch at the altar, treating our marriage like a political chore.
Two months later, the world shattered when Jarret's diplomatic convoy was bombed. The news reported him dead, with his twin brother Jayden as the sole survivor.
When "Jayden" returned to the estate limping on a cane, the house became a tomb. My mother-in-law and our cousin Cristine immediately moved to freeze my bank accounts and strip me of my rights, calling me a "greedy climber." I was a widow in a house of wolves, but the real nightmare started when I saw "Jayden" drop his cane and passionately kiss Jarret's mistress in the dark.
I crept to the study and heard the bone-chilling truth: Jarret wasn't the one who died. He had murdered his own brother in the blast to steal his identity and become a "surviving hero." Even worse, he was already planning my "accidental" overdose once I signed over the family trust.
My blood ran cold as I realized the gentle, calloused hands that touched me on my wedding night hadn't belonged to my husband at all. I had fallen in love with Jayden, the man Jarret had just vaporized for a promotion.
I tried to escape, but they caught me and forced a sedative into my arm. When I woke up, the family doctor was standing over me with a predatory smile.
"Congratulations, Elise. You're ten weeks pregnant."
Jarret leaned over my bed, his eyes cold and victorious. They aren't going to kill me anymore. They've turned me into an incubator for an heir, trapped in a golden cage with the monster who murdered the father of my child.
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Chapter 8
The house was a tomb at 2:00 AM.
Elise slipped out of her room. She knew the guard rotation. The night shift guy took a smoke break at 2:05.
She crept down the hallway. The carpet swallowed her footsteps.
Elise saw a sliver of yellow light under the study door.
Voices.
She pressed herself against the wall. She moved closer, inch by inch.
The door was cracked open a fraction.
"...reckless, Jarret," Joyce's voice hissed.
Elise froze. Her blood turned to ice.
Did she say Jarret?
Maybe she stumbled. Maybe she meant Jayden.
"Stop calling me that," a male voice replied. "I am Jayden now. You have to get used to it. And tell the maids to start closing doors properly. This entire wing should be locked down."
Elise clamped a hand over her mouth to stop the scream.
It was him. Jarret.
"Cristine is a liability," Joyce warned. "If she talks..."
"She won't," Jarret said. His voice was cold, arrogant. "She loves me. She knows I did this for us. For the campaign."
"You killed your brother for her? For politics?" Joyce asked. She didn't sound horrified. She sounded tired. Like she was discussing a bad investment.
"Jayden was weak," Jarret said. "He was going to die anyway. He was useless. The world loves a dead hero and a surviving soldier who carries on the legacy. It's perfect narrative."
Tears streamed down Elise's face. Her husband was a monster. A sociopath who had sent his twin to die in his place.
"What about Elise?" Joyce asked.
"She's annoying," Jarret said casually. "But we need the trust fund."
Elise held her breath.
"Once she signs the POA," Jarret continued, "we can... arrange an accident. A car crash. Or an overdose. She's 'hysterical with grief,' remember?"
Elise's knees buckled. She reached out blindly to steady herself.
Her hand hit a porcelain vase on a side table.
It wobbled. Clink. Clink.
The sound was tiny, but in the silence, it sounded like a gunshot.
The voices in the study stopped instantly.
"Did you hear that?" Jarret asked.
Footsteps. Heavy, fast footsteps approaching the door.
Panic exploded in Elise's chest.
She looked around. Nowhere to run. The hall was too long.
There was a small door to her left-the dumbwaiter access, used for linens.
Elise scrambled inside. She pulled the door shut just as the study door flew open.
She peered through the slats of the vent.
Jarret stood in the hallway. He wasn't using the cane. He looked strong, dangerous, and very much alive.
He looked left. He looked right.
His eyes lingered on the closet door where Elise was hiding.
Elise stopped breathing. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought he could hear it.
He took a step toward her.
Then, a floorboard settled somewhere else in the house. Creak.
Jarret paused. "Just the old house settling," he muttered.
He turned and went back into the study.
Elise slid down to the floor of the closet. She was shaking uncontrollably. Her teeth chattered.
They were going to kill her.
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7.3
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Sophia died hating the man she once loved. Then she woke up ten years younger with a chance to make him pay.
Alexander Sterling destroyed her in ways he'll never remember. Now she'll become the woman he can't forget, and can't have. But he's dreaming of her death. She's planning his downfall. And neither knows they're both pawns in someone else's game.
9.3
One moment I was human, sixteen years old and in love, believing my life would follow a simple, ordinary path. The next, I was taken from everything I knew and thrown into Silverwood Academy, a hidden world where wolf shifters rule, magic breathes, and survival is never guaranteed.
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7.6
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