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The Wolfless Substitute and Her Forbidden Lycan Mate Novel Cover

The Wolfless Substitute and Her Forbidden Lycan Mate

I transmigrated into a popular werewolf romance novel, but I wasn't the heroine. I was Aaliyah Hunter, a frail, wolfless side character destined for a gruesome end. My real nightmare began when the heroine, Elaina, ran away to escape her Mating ceremony. To appease the furious rival pack and avoid a bloody war, my aunt, the Pack Luna, decided to offer me as the substitute bride. "You are wolfless and have no future here. You will be Elaina's Substitute Mate." In the original plot, the Alpha Heir was already psychotically obsessed with Elaina. He viewed the substitute as a disgusting usurper. If I went, I would face brutal abuse and eventually be thrown to mindless Rogues to be eaten alive. My aunt tried to crush me with her aura, demanding I repay the family by walking straight into a slaughterhouse. I refused to be a sacrificial lamb for Elaina's mess. I used my powerful Hunter Pack bloodline to threaten my aunt and sought refuge behind my iron-willed grandmother. I thought I had safely escaped the plot, ready to watch the other vicious branch family girls tear each other apart for the cursed crown. But everything changed when my cousin recklessly brought Kameron Cross, a terrifying, ascetic Lycan Lord, into our territory. The moment his scent of biting cedar and first snow hit my senses, my supposedly wolfless body reacted with a violent, overwhelming physical surge. I wasn't supposed to have a mate, yet this untouchable apex predator was suddenly walking right toward my courtyard.
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Chapter 9

Aaliyah POV

My bare feet hit the cold hardwood floor, but I couldn't feel the chill. The intoxicating scent of cold cedar and first snow wrapped around my senses, pulling a soft, desperate whine from the newly awakened White Wolf deep within my soul.

I closed my eyes, leaning heavily against the bedpost as I pushed my hyper-sensitive hearing outward, tracking their approach along the tree-lined path leading to the Dowager's Estate.

Through the crisp afternoon air, I heard the exact moment my reckless cousin made the stupidest mistake of his life.

"Loosen up, Your Grace," Jaden’s arrogant voice drifted clearly into my ears, followed by the heavy rustle of fabric and the distinct, audacious slap of a hand landing squarely on a broad shoulder. Jaden had actually thrown his arm around the Lycan.

The air pressure in my auditory range seemed to violently drop. A low, vibrating rumble—so deep and primal it felt like an earthquake rattling my own bones—echoed in response. Kameron was forcibly suppressing his feral Lycan instincts, likely only tolerating the blatant disrespect because of the promise he made to his older brother, Collin.

Walking beside them, Caiden’s heartbeat fluttered frantically like a trapped bird. Even without an Inner Wolf, my ten-year-old brother could feel the suffocating, icy aura radiating from the man Jaden was casually manhandling.

*I'm telling Aaliyah,* Caiden muttered under his breath, his voice trembling with a mix of sheer terror and annoyance. *Jaden is going to get his head ripped off.*

In my bedroom, I rubbed my temples, a sigh escaping my lips. Jaden was an absolute headache, but the thought of the Lycan walking through our gates sent a jolt of terrifying anticipation straight to my core. I needed to see him. I needed to see my brother, too, and show him that the cold, distant sister he knew was gone.

"Emelie, Kaela," I called out, my voice surprisingly steady. "Help me get dressed. I am going to the estate gates to meet Caiden."

My two Omega maids exchanged a pleased look, clearly thrilled by my sudden display of familial warmth. Kaela quickly fetched a heavy, dark green velvet cloak, draping it carefully over my shoulders to ward off the spring chill, while Emelie smoothed out my dress.

I took a step toward the door, my White Wolf practically pacing in my chest, eager to close the distance to that intoxicating cedar scent.

But before my hand could even touch the brass doorknob, the heavy oak door swung open.

Elder Omega Gladys stood in the doorway, her posture rigid and her sandalwood scent carrying the strict, undeniable authority of my grandmother.

"You must remain inside, Lady Aaliyah," Gladys said, her tone respectful but leaving absolutely no room for argument.

I frowned, pulling the velvet cloak tighter around myself. "My brother is arriving at the gates. I merely wish to greet him."

"If it were only Young Master Caiden, Elder Luna Evelyn would be delighted by your affection," Gladys explained, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind her. "However, the guards have Mind-Linked us. Your cousin Jaden has brought a guest. A very powerful, unfamiliar male from outside our Pack."

Gladys lowered her voice, her eyes serious. "Pack Protocol dictates that an unmarried she-wolf of your noble standing cannot rush to the outer gates to greet a strange, dominant Alpha. To do so informally would be seen as lacking modesty. In the eyes of the upper echelon, it could even be interpreted as deliberately soliciting a mate."

My breath hitched. Soliciting a mate.

My Inner Wolf bristled at being denied, her instincts screaming to run toward the snow and cedar, but my human mind instantly recognized the danger. Gladys was right. The werewolf high society was a vicious arena of rumors and strict traditions. If I ran out there now, I would look like a desperate female throwing herself at a Lycan lord.

I forced my muscles to relax, masking the chaotic storm inside me with a perfectly blank expression.

"I understand, Gladys," I said softly, stepping back from the door. "I would never wish to bring shame to the Hunter or Hayes name."

Gladys’s stern face softened with approval. "Elder Luna has instructed that you receive your brother and the guests in The Grand Parlor. It is the proper, formal setting for a lady."

"Lead the way," I replied, gesturing toward the corridor.

As we walked side by side down the quiet, carpeted hallway toward the parlor, Gladys leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. She clearly thought I was completely ignorant of the storm that was about to walk through our doors.

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