New Identity

Olivia POV

We arrived at Alpha Damien’s mansion, and he showed me a room. When I got in, I moved my gaze around. It was…a big bed… a dresser… a closet… the room was screaming luxury. I swallowed hard and turned to Alpha Damien, who was casually leaning by the door.

“Here,” he spoke, bringing out a fancy gold bracelet. “This is to subdue your wolf and scent,” he said, stepping closer.

When he got to where I stood, he held out his hand, silently asking for my wrist, which I hesitated for a moment, but I gave it to him, and he unclasped the bracelet around it.

The moment the cold metal touched my skin, I felt a surge of strange energy. It was even stronger than the choker around my neck. Then he stepped behind me, and I felt the soft prick of a pin as he unlocked the choker.

The moment the choker was unlocked and taken off, I massaged my neck and breathed heavily. I tried to reach out to my wolf, but it was useless because the bracelet was now doing the work of the choker… even better.

Damien stepped in front of me, then he brought out a small bottle filled with a glowing purple liquid. It looked like magic.

“Drink this,” he said, handing it to me.

I frowned and stepped back a little. “What is it?”

“It’s for your voice,” he replied. “Right now, your voice still sounds too much like you. Someone might recognize it. This potion will change your voice–make it fit your new identity. Trust me.”

I stared at the bottle in my hand, heart pounding. I didn’t want to drink it. I didn’t want to become more… unrecognizable than I already was.

But what choice did I have?

With a shaky breath, I uncorked the bottle and took a sip.

It burned slightly as it went down.

Then a warm, tingling feeling spread through my throat.

“Now,” Damien said, stepping back. “Say something.”

I hesitated, then finally opened my mouth.

“What do you want me to say?” I asked.

But the moment I heard my own voice, I gasped.

It didn’t sound like me at all.

My voice was softer… slower… and carried a distinct Indian accent. It was strange hearing myself sound in such a manner.

I touched my throat, stunned.

Damien smirked. “Perfect. Now no one–not even your mates–will ever recognize you.”

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of that truth settle deep in my chest.

He casually tucked his hand in his pockets and took out a box. He opened the box, and I noticed a diamond ring sitting pretty inside.

I stared at the diamond ring in the box.

It sparkled like it was mocking me.

“Take it,” Damien said softly, but there was power in his voice–one that didn’t leave room for arguing. “From today onward, we are married.”

Married.

I looked at the ring again, my chest tightening. My hands moved on their own as I reached for it. Slowly, I slid it onto my finger.

It fit perfectly.

Then, Damien brought out another ring from the same box and slipped it onto his own finger.

“There,” he said with a smirk, “Now it’s official.”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. My throat was tight with emotion.

“Look at the desk,” he said, nodding toward the corner of the room. “Pick up the file. Read it. That’s your new life.”

I walked slowly to the desk. There was a neat brown folder lying on it. I opened it–and my eyes widened.

There was a picture of me. Not the real me, but the new face that stared back in the mirror. Beside it was a name I didn’t recognize.

Riya. English name: Rebecca.

I kept reading.

The file said I met Alpha Damien two months ago… during his trip to India. It claimed I was a small-time writer–just a simple human woman who had no idea he was an Alpha.

It said we fell in love quickly and secretly got married last week.

Every single word was a lie.

My stomach twisted.

I looked back at Damien. He was already watching me.

“That’s your new identity,” he said. “That’s the story. Memorize every detail. If you slip up, even once, it could cost us everything.”

I swallowed hard. “But-”

He raised a hand, cutting me off.

“Rules,” he said. “Let me make them clear.”

He stepped closer, eyes now cold and serious.

“One: You don’t go anywhere without me or my permission.”

“Two: No contacting anyone from your past. Not even by accident.”

“Three: You are human now. No mention of wolves, powers, or anything supernatural.”

He paused.

“Four: Don’t you dare try to find out who has this face.”

“And five…” He stepped even closer, lowering his voice, “You are my wife. You will act like it. In public, you will smile. You will play the role. Do not embarrass me.”

His words hit like bricks, one after the other.

I wanted to yell back at him, but I nodded slowly, biting the inside of my cheek to keep the tears back.

“Good,” he said. “Now rest. You’ll start living your new life tomorrow.”

Then he turned and left, locking the door behind him.

Left alone, I collapsed onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.

This was my life now. A new name–Rebecca. The wife of Alpha Damien.

I picked the file up again.

It said I was twenty-two years old, an orphan, with no living relatives.

It said I was born in Chandigarh, India, and moved to the States at eighteen to pursue writing.

My eyes burned. I could barely recognize the girl described in those pages.

Everything I was… everything I had been… was gone.

I must have laid there for hours, staring at the ceiling. The room was silent, too silent. Every tick of the clock echoed like a scream in my head.

Eventually, there was a soft knock on the door. Before I could answer, it opened slowly, and two women stepped inside. Maids–dressed in soft gray uniforms, their eyes downcast.

One of them carried a silver tray.

“Lunch, ma’am,” she said quietly, placing it on the table.

I sat up but didn’t move toward it. I didn’t feel hungry. My stomach was still twisted in knots from everything that had happened.

They bowed slightly and left, closing the door behind them.

I glanced at the food–roasted meat, vegetables, fresh fruit–but I barely touched it.

Later that evening, they came again. Dinner. Another tray, different dishes. This time, the scent was richer, more tempting.

But again, I barely ate.

I couldn’t stop thinking.

Would the triplets believe I’m dead now?

Were they mourning me?

Has Lennox done something stupid?

Were Louis and Levi taking it well?

The thought made my chest ache.

Were they okay?

Can they even feel that I’m still alive?

Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away. I had cried enough. I turned over, hugging the pillow to my chest.

And eventually, sleep took me.

Morning light streamed into the room.

I stirred slowly at the warmth against my face. I hadn’t opened the curtains… and then I heard movement.

The maids were back.

One of them gently pushed the window open to let the morning sun in. The other moved to the edge of the bed.

“Good morning, ma’am,” she said softly. “Alpha Damien has a meeting at 8 a.m. He requests your presence in the throne room.”

I sat up, rubbing my eyes. “A meeting?”

“Yes, ma’am. You are to dress and join him. He said it is important.”

The maids didn’t wait for me to protest. They opened a wardrobe I hadn’t even noticed before–inside were elegant gowns, silk robes, shining shoes, and expensive jewelry. One of them picked a deep maroon dress, embroidered with gold and lined with velvet. It looked like something a queen would wear.

They helped me bathe and slipped me into it, brushing my hair out and pinning it back with gold clips. One applied a light makeup on my face. Another fastened a golden chain around my neck.

When they were done, I barely recognized myself.

I looked… regal. Royal. Like someone meant to sit on a throne.

But inside, I still felt like a ghost.

The maids led me through the mansion, down a long hallway lined with tall mirrors and art I didn’t bother to look at. My heels clicked on the floor with every step.

Finally, we reached two massive doors.

They opened, revealing a grand throne room filled with pack members and high-ranking wolves. The space was quiet, but all heads turned when I entered.

And then I saw Alpha Damien.

He stood from his throne, dressed in a black tailored suit, eyes locked on mine.

I froze.

Without hesitation, he walked toward me, his expression unreadable.

And then, to my shock, he leaned down and kissed me.

Deeply.

His lips pressed against mine like we were truly in love–like we had a bond no one could break. My body went stiff, but I didn’t pull away.

He pulled back slightly, turned to the room, and said loud and clear:

“This is my wife. Rebecca.”

There was silence for a beat… and then soft claps filled the room, followed by bows and nods of respect.

I stood beside him, still reeling from the kiss, from the weight of his words.

His wife,

Rebecca.

But inside… I was still Olivia.

And my heart?

It still belonged to three broken boys who didn’t even know I was still alive.