Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by his Brother
Chapter 288: _ Imposter Syndrome Never Felt Better

Chapter 288: _ Imposter Syndrome Never Felt Better

One by one, I crushed Mateo’s bones to mirror my old injury. The Devil had given me details: the spinal damage, the specific vertebrae. I mimicked it all with divine precision. When I snapped his lower spine, the jolt ran up my arm like a song of victory.

Mateo thrashed, tried to shift, and crawled feebly at the dirt. But his body was becoming mine; paralyzed, broken, and voiceless.

When it was done, he lay limp, whimpering, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. Just a gurgle of a voice now. Just like I used to be. Just like everyone remembered me.

I touched his forehead one last time. "You look perfect."

And then, with a thought—I teleported us both.

The woods vanished and my room reassembled around us in a blink. Familiar scent: incense, antiseptic, cold metal from the braces, and old equipment that lined the shelves. Rosario had cleaned it that morning. Always dutiful.

I set Mateo, no, Luis—into the wheelchair.

He slumped forward for a moment. I lifted his head. Adjusted the angle. Just right.

I took a step back and gazed at my masterpiece.

There he was—me. The hollowed-out version of Luis, back in his chair, expression dazed, mouth slightly open. Speech gone. Wolf crushed. Limbs useless.

He looked almost peaceful.

God, it was eerie.

I tilted my head and observed him the way an artist might admire a portrait. "You wear me well, Mateo. Better than I expected."

He blinked once because that was all he could manage.

I knelt beside him, and rested a hand on his knee. "You’ll live here now. You’ll eat what I ate. Listen to the same sounds I used to hear at night. Cry when no one’s watching—though that part, you’ll have to figure out on your own. I’m not sure you’ll even be able to make tears anymore."

I grinned. My new powers were still humming through my bones like caffeine and thunder.

I straightened my new posture... Mateo’s posture. Taller, but still awkward, and still forgettable. However, it would do. Perfect for playing the nice ever ever-smiling guy. Until it was too late.

María José wouldn’t recognize the trick until she was far too deep. And by then, I’d already be tangled in her life like a vine made of lies.

I looked once more at the slumped body in the chair—my old throne.

"Enjoy the role," I whispered.

Then I turned. Time to introduce the new Mateo to the world. But first—I needed to go find María José. Let the real game begin.

*********

I returned to the stationed place where I’d met Mateo—well, where Luis had met Mateo, technically. Now I was Mateo, so I guess I had met myself?

God, this identity theft business could get a little metaphysical.

The moon had dipped lower. I had to think about each step, had to remember how to hold my face in that neutral, golden-boy smile Mateo was famous for. A smile people trusted. A smile that had once made María José’s lips part slightly, like she was about to breathe something beautiful—before he turned into the traitorous bastard that he was.

I learned of his encounter with María José after stealing his memories. He even dared to carry her and flirt. The stupid bastard.

Maybe he deserved that fate.

I adjusted my posture and stretched my neck. I slouched a bit to match the "humble guy" aesthetic Mateo had mastered so well.

The stationed place was quiet. The other guard—Ismael or Ivan, something with an I, was leaning against the rusted truck with a half-eaten empanada in one hand and a bulging bottle in the other.

When he saw me, he squinted, swallowed hard, and then offered a grin that said, "Boy, do I have gossip."

"¿Todo bien?" he asked.

I nodded, letting my new lips part just enough to show Mateo’s even teeth. "Sí. Everything’s fine."

He seemed satisfied and took another bite of his empanada. I watched a chunk of meat and onion plummet to the ground, where it joined a graveyard of crumbs.

"Man," he said, chewing like a goat, "this wedding’s been weird, right? I mean, a whole change of bride. The drama. The revelations. The crying. And then boom, the groom gets a new girl. María José, no less! Don Diego’s younger daughter taking the place of her elder sister. Who saw that coming?"

I gave a small chuckle, trying to mimic the tone I’d heard from Mateo so many times. A little aloof, a little smug, like he was always in on some secret. "Yeah. Wild."

Before, I’d always speak like me, not caring to be careful about sounding exactly like him. But I couldn’t take any chances now, no matter how little.

Ivan—I decided I would call him that because committing to his name felt like a risk, continued gabbing, now moving on to how the cake was ugly and how Camilla’s dress was obviously cursed.

I wasn’t listening. Not really. My brain was crackling, fizzing like a soda shaken too hard. I could hardly hear over the sound of my own pulse thudding in my skull.

María José. My María José. Not yet. Not really. But soon.

The wedding would end soon. They’d slip away for the honeymoon. Probably with little fanfare. Maybe a private car. Maybe a quiet plane. I didn’t know yet. But I’d find out. Because wherever they went—Axel and her, I would follow. And I wouldn’t be the only one.

Oh no. I had company. Rage. Spite. That sweet new power tingling under my skin like champagne and static. The Devil had gifted me something beyond just strength; he had made me capable. And I was going to use every ounce of that capability.

Beside me, Ivan laughed at something he said. I smiled back on autopilot, barely hearing the words. My eyes drifted up to the estate again. The ceremony was winding down. Light flickered from the ballroom windows; gold and warm like everything Mateo had always taken for granted.

Inside those walls, my girl was faking a smile for a husband she didn’t love. She believed she did, but she didn’t. I knew it.

The Devil’s daughter could only love a demon like me, not some pesky Beta.