I was his replacement, now he's replaceable

The day my twin sister Olivia died, her mate, Alpha Caleb begged me to marry him to reduce his son's grief by having his mother's lookalike around.

On my thirtieth birthday, which happened to fall on the fifth anniversary of her death, I decided to dye my hair back to my natural red instead of maintaining Olivia's honey blonde.

During the small celebration, ten-year-old Theo grabbed my birthday cake and poured the hot candle wax directly onto my head, the liquid streaming down my face and neck.

"How dare you try to be different!" he screamed as the burning wax slid down my face. "You promised to be just like mom!"

Gasps echoed through the room filled with pack members who'd gathered for my birthday dinner.

Theo's voice dropped to a snarl. "You're nothing but a cheap replacement. A stand-in who doesn't deserve to breathe the same air she did."

The burning sensation spread across my scalp and cheeks as he continued, "I hope your face scars so badly that you can never look like her again. Then everyone will see what a fraud you really are."

I stared at this child I'd sacrificed everything for and felt something inside me finally give way. If he couldn't accept me after five years, perhaps it was time to stop trying.

That night, I called my grandmother.

"I'm coming home," I said firmly. "I'm ready to reclaim my position as the Alpha Queen."

When I left the next morning, I never expected they would come crawling back, begging for my forgiveness.

—-------

I sat on the cold bathroom floor, applying ice packs to my burned face where the wax had left angry red welts. Chunks of wax still clung to my newly dyed hair.

The door slammed open. Caleb stormed in with Theo hovering behind him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Caleb's eyes flashed with fury. "On the anniversary dinner of Olivia's death, you pull this stunt? Can't you behave for once?"

"It's also my birthday," I replied quietly. "The one day I thought I could finally be who I want to be."

"Your birthday?" He laughed cruelly. "Your only purpose here is to be Olivia. That's the arrangement we made."

"I never agreed to become her completely."

"You agreed to whatever would help reduce my son's grief!" he shouted. "And now look at what you've done with your hair! You've traumatized him all over again!"

Theo smirked behind his father. "She thinks she deserves her own identity when she's just a stand-in."

Caleb turned to his son. "Go downstairs, Theo. I need to talk to Emma alone."

Theo left, not without a final victorious glance over his shoulder.

"Fix this," Caleb demanded, gesturing to my hair. "Dye it back blonde before dinner. Wear the blue dress Olivia wore to her last birthday. Don't make this day any harder for him."

He slammed the door behind him, leaving me trembling.

I never intended to be in this situation. When Olivia died, Theo had stopped speaking entirely. The therapists said he might never recover from the trauma of losing his mother so violently. Then I visited, Olivia’s identical twin, the aunt he barely knew...and he'd spoken his first words in months.

What started as occasional visits became a desperate plea from Caleb. The therapists suggested that having her around might help Theo process his grief. Caleb had suggested a permanent solution: marriage to give Theo the stability.

Since then, I'd been acting as Olivia. I wore her clothes, styled my hair like hers. When I didn't mirror her perfectly, it became a problem.

Last month, I'd accidentally hummed a song she had never liked while cooking dinner. Theo had spilled boiling water on my hand, leaving a scar that still hadn't healed.

The week before, I'd forgotten which side Olivia parted her hair. Theo had cut chunks out of my hair while I slept.

The only thing that remained truly mine were my eyes, green where hers had been blue. Last month, Caleb had ordered contact lenses to fix even that difference.

After cleaning the wax from my hair, I headed to the bathroom for a proper shower. When I turned on the water and stepped in, pain engulfed my body. I screamed with my skin already turning an angry red.

The bathroom door opened. Theo stood there, watching me with that same emotionless stare.

"Bleach works better than hair dye, doesn't it?" he said flatly. "Maybe now you'll remember who you're supposed to be."

He slammed the door shut and locked it from the outside. I pounded against it, the chemical burning deeper into my skin with every second.

"Help! Someone please!"

I collapsed against the wall, coughing and struggling to breathe through the chemical cloud.

Just as spots began dancing in my vision, the door burst open. Mrs. Collins, our housekeeper rushed me out, immediately grabbing my emergency medication.

I wrapped myself in a robe and headed to my bedroom. As I opened the door, I froze in horror.

My camera lay shattered on the floor. The memory card was snapped in half beside it.

That camera had been my lifeline, the only thing that reminded me I'd once had dreams beyond these walls. Every night, I would scroll through those photos, reminding myself that Emma Stone had existed before she became Olivia’s replacement.

A sob tore from my throat as I knelt beside the ruins of my past life. That's when I noticed the note, written in crayon:

"FAKE MOMMIES DON'T DESERVE MEMORIES."

Something inside me finally broke. I stormed downstairs, finding Theo in the living room with tear tracks on his face as Caleb comforted him.

"How could you?" My voice shook with fury. "That camera was my life's work. Every photo, every memory..."

"It's just a stupid camera," Theo spat. "Mom didn't like photography. She said it was your way of running away from family."

Caleb rose, towering over me. "Haven't you done enough damage for one day? Look how upset he is!"

"Me?" I stepped back, incredulous. "He destroyed thousands of dollars of equipment! Years of my work! And earlier today he poured chemicals into..."

"For God's sake, Emma," Caleb hissed, using my real name like a weapon. "It's just a hobby. This—" he gestured around the house, at Theo, "—this is what matters. This family. The family you promised to help heal."

"By erasing myself?" I whispered. "That was never the agreement. I was supposed to help transition him, not become her permanently."

Caleb's expression softened as he approached me, one hand reaching for my burned skin. "I know this is hard. But look at him, he needs his mother."

"I'm not his mother," I said quietly. "And I never will be."

His fingers traced the outline of my jaw, continuing down my neck. "You could be. You already look like her. Act like her. And tonight... you could be her for me, too."

I recoiled from his touch. The longing in his eyes wasn't for me—it never had been.

"I'm leaving," I said firmly. "Tomorrow. I’m done with you."