Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by his Brother
Chapter 283: _ Mrs. Montenegro

Chapter 283: _ Mrs. Montenegro

When I finished, a full silence bloomed before Axel spoke, emotions swirling in his eyes.

"María José, you are the one who made me believe in love."

His hand lifted, brushing a tear from my cheek with the gentlest touch. "Before you, I was lost in shadows; broken, angry, and afraid. But you—your strength, your fire, lit a path through my darkness."

He bent closer, voice breaking slightly. "I vow to protect you, cherish you, and love you with every piece of my heart, for all the days we are given."

I couldn’t stop the tears now; they spilled freely down my cheeks, but they weren’t tears of sorrow. They were the rivers of hope, of promise, and of love reclaimed.

The priest smiled softly and raised his hands.

"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Axel’s lips found mine in a kiss that tasted of forever; deep, fierce, and full of every vow we’d just spoken.

But this night wasn’t just ours.

The four siblings—the two families entwined by blood, by love, and by sins, stood before the congregation, ready to join their lives.

Álvaro and Camilla, despite their earlier faltering, smiled at each other with what should have been tenderness but was numbness, making me wonder if their bond was real at all.

The priest continued, voice rich with solemn joy.

"And now, I pronounce you all married—the four souls united as one family, bound by love and loyalty."

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, and it felt like I hadn’t heard a more beautiful melody. I squeezed Axel’s hand, feeling the solidity of his presence, the warmth of our shared future.

This was more than a wedding. This was the beginning of everything.

The ceremony ended, but the celebration was just beginning.

It happened all at once. The crowd that had once watched me like I was some pitiful side character in their golden saga now surged forward like I was the crown jewel of the entire pack.

"Luna María José!"

Gosh, I wasn’t even the Luna yet. My eyes could go round right now. This was the best moment for such a gesture.

"She’s even more beautiful than I imagined."

"My goddess, she’s glowing—do you see that glow?"

A woman I recognized—Isela, actually knelt and kissed the hem of my dress like she wasn’t the one always calling me worthless every time I passed by her stall. I blinked down at her, unsure whether to laugh or cry or step over her like a muddy puddle.

Another pack member, one of the warrior trainees who used to "accidentally" trip me during morning drills, now elbowed his way forward just to hand me a single rose.

"It’s an honor," he said, bowing so low his forehead almost touched my shoes. "Truly. An honor to witness your rise."

I wanted to scoff. Two months ago, this same guy told people I was cursed. Now he looked like he’d auction off his own sister for a single strand of my hair.

The shift was dizzying. Head-spinning. I felt like I was floating—both on adrenaline and disbelief.

I glanced at Axel, who looked every bit the brooding, deadly groom. His hand was firmly on my lower back, and he kept his eyes sweeping around. His body was tense—not with nerves, but protectiveness. The moment someone leaned too close to me, Axel’s hand would pull me subtly closer, and whoever it was would remember they had a distant cousin to greet on the other side of the courtyard.

"You’d think I just saved the world," I whispered to him, grinning.

"You did. Yours, at least. And that’s the only one that matters to me."

I melted. Right there on the spot. My knees genuinely wobbled a little, but luckily, he caught me with a smirk.

People kept coming. Elders who once refused to eat near me now wanted to hold my hand and bless our union. Children who had been taught to whisper about "the weak one" now asked me to touch their cheeks for "good luck."

And amid the chaos—like a moldy cake in the center of a feast, stood Camilla.

No one came to her. No one offered her flowers. No one even looked her way except to occasionally cast a curious glance at Álvaro, who stood beside her with all the stiffness of a statue carved from disapproval.

Camilla was stewing. Oh, you could smell the sour jealousy on her like cheap perfume.

Her eyes were tight, lips pinched, her fists clenched around her bouquet like she was trying not to shove it up someone’s nose—probably mine.

Álvaro, for his part, kept looking at her like she was a poor imitation of something finer. I caught one of their whispered conversations:

"You could’ve made the vow again," Álvaro said under his breath.

Camilla huffed. "I was overwhelmed."

"So was María José," he replied coldly, "and she still stood strong. She gave a vow people will remember for the next fifty years."

I pretended not to hear, but a wicked part of me preened like a peacock with a gold-plated tail.

Karma, I realized, was not only real but apparently had excellent taste in wedding seating arrangements.

The reception bloomed with music and movement. Long tables groaned under the weight of roasted boar, sweet bread drizzled with honey, and wine that sparkled in the lantern light. My people—yes, my people now, sang and danced and toasted to the new Beta’s wife who was once their pariah.

I tried to remain graceful, tried to keep my cool, and thank everyone with nods and grateful smiles—but a few moments snuck past where I caught myself laughing too hard, eating with both hands, or ducking away from yet another overzealous guest trying to touch my hair for "luck."

One bold little girl with wild curls and jam-stained fingers hugged my waist and whispered, "I want to be just like you when I grow up."

I nearly cried.

Axel pulled me aside after a while, wrapping his arms around me from behind. "Breathe," he murmured into my ear, lips brushing my skin and making every nerve in me dance. "You’ve conquered enough for one day. Let’s go."

"But the party..."

"Let them party. We have better things waiting."

Why do I have a wild guess what that ’better things’ was? He’d been looking at me like I was a chocolate pancake dipped in maple syrup all day.

A soft thrill ran down my spine at the weight of his voice, at the warmth of his touch pressing into the base of my spine.

We were gently herded toward the waiting cars which was a line of luxurious black vehicles. The guests parted like the sea as we walked, cheers rising, petals thrown, laughter loud and bright.

Camilla and Álvaro walked stiffly behind us. I noticed Camilla trying to fix her expression into something that resembled happiness but it seems my older sister who had a degree in the act of pretense couldn’t handle that today.

Álvaro didn’t hold her hand. He didn’t even look her way.

Axel opened the car door for me himself. The others had drivers, but not ours. Ours was just us.

He helped me in like I was made of spun sugar, then slid in beside me, shutting the door with a quiet click that seemed to seal us into another world.

The inside of the car was softly lit and scented with vanilla and Axel’s cologne, warm and woodsy – the kind of scent that could erase years of pain with one inhale.

I leaned into him, still breathless. "Where are we going?"

He smiled, that small, dangerous smile that made my blood heat.

"To the Alpha’s private retreat," he said. "No pack noise. No distractions. Just us."

And that was the moment it hit me. All of it. I was no longer the outcast. No longer the girl sleeping in pigsties or hiding bruises behind worn-out clothes.

I was María José De La Vega, wife of Axel Montenegro.

And for the first time in my entire life... I was going home.

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