Accidentally Mated To Four Alphas-Chapter 282: _ Newly Wedded, Newly Shattered

"She’s rotting," Amias blurts out, unable to keep his voice from breaking. "Her skin is falling apart. I held her hand and..."

"Shut up, boy! Do not describe weakness to me." The Alpha raises a hand to hush him.

Amias stares up at him, chest heaving. "I’m still your son."

That flickers his father’s expression a little before it hardens again. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head as though he is addressing a little erring kid.

"You are the son of a cheater, a disgrace. You should be glad you’re even a tool I finally deduced to use." The man scoffs.

The words hollow Amias out. He can’t believe that even after losing three of his sons to his cruel ego, the man could still address the only one left as such. It’s a given – their father is beyond redemption.

"Darien chose exile," the Alpha continues. "Morgan chose defiance. Grayson chose loyalty to his brothers over his pack. Fools, all of them."

He pauses.

"You," he points, looking down at Amias with new interest, "have chosen duty which is surprising, considering who your mother is. I guess that’s the unpredictability of life, isn’t it, son?"

Amias’s hands curl into fists. "I didn’t choose this."

The Alpha crouches in front of him, bringing them eye to eye.

"You did," he tuts. "When you agreed to marry Lira. When you stayed. When you did not follow your brothers out of that gate."

Amias’s throat tightens. "My mother asked me to."

"And that," the Alpha nods, almost approvingly, "is why you will succeed where Darien failed."

The praise feels like poison. It’s supposed to feel great, hearing the approving words from the one he spent his whole life trying to please, but it surprisingly didn’t.

It is only now that Amias understands he’s spent his life chasing nothing.

"You will marry Lira tomorrow," the Alpha continues. "You will smile. You will stand tall beside your dying mother and make the pack believe everything is under control."

He straightens. "Then you will come to the council chambers. We will begin the process of your ascension. I need to demonstrate the reward for a son who listens."

Amias’s heart pounds painfully as he blurts without thinking. "I don’t want it."

The Alpha looks genuinely surprised. He squinted, seemingly considering something before chuckling.

"Want," he repeats. "That is not a word meant for men like us."

He turns away.

"As for your tears," the Alpha adds over his shoulder, "wipe them away before anyone else sees you. An Alpha does not grieve. He endures."

The footsteps fade but Amias stays where he is. His chest aches. His hands tremble. His mind is too loud and too empty all at once.

This—this—is what acknowledgment feels like. He didn’t win the man’s love or pride, just usefulness. He’s just useful because he’s the only one left. He presses his forehead to the cold stone wall and closes his eyes.

Darien and the twins are gone. His mother is dying. His mate has left. And now, finally, his father wants him. It should feel like a full-circle moment. Instead, it feels like he’s sinking into something dark and endless, with no strength left to fight it.

He doesn’t cry again. He just sits there, hollow, wondering how much of himself he’ll have to kill to survive what comes next.

*****

Morning comes too fast. Amias knows this because the sun has the audacity to rise like nothing is wrong.

Light spills through the tall windows of the Alpha’s quarters in pale gold ribbons, touching stone floors that have seen centuries of blood, vows, betrayals, and births. The air smells like incense and crushed herbs—someone, somewhere, trying desperately to make the day feel sacred instead of terminal.

He lies awake, staring at the ceiling, already dressed in ceremonial black and silver. He hasn’t slept. He doesn’t bother pretending otherwise.

Today, he gets married. Today, his mother might die. Today, the pack will smile.

A maid knocks softly. "My lord."

He closes his eyes once before opening them. "Come in."

They move around him like ghosts; adjusting his collar, brushing lint from his shoulders, tying the ceremonial sash at his waist. The fabric is heavy. Alpha garb always is. Weighted with symbolism, authority, and expectations.

It feels like a noose.

"Luna Clarissa is being brought out now," one maid says gently, like she’s announcing the weather.

His chest tightens. "I’ll walk with her."

There’s hesitation. A glance between the maids. Then a nod. Outside, the Alpha’s courtyard has been transformed.

White stone pillars are wrapped in silver ivy and moon-threaded cloth. Banners bearing the pack crest hang motionless in the still air. Chairs are arranged in neat arcs around a raised dais where the binding will take place. The old ceremonial fire pit has been lit, flames low and steady—witness fire, the elders call it. It crackles like it knows something the rest of them don’t.

Pack members gather in hushed clusters. Council faces. Warriors. Elders. People dressed in muted finery, eyes sharp with curiosity and calculation.

This is not a big wedding. This is a strategic one. Clarissa is already there when Amias arrives.

She sits in a wheelchair draped with ceremonial white fur, her body propped carefully with cushions and blankets. Her skin is hidden beneath layers of lace gloves and veils, but Amias knows what’s underneath. He knows where the rot has spread. He knows which parts of her no longer feel like her.

Her eyes light up when she sees him.

"There you are," she beams, voice thin but warm. "So handsome."

He kneels immediately, taking her gloved hands in his. He doesn’t squeeze it because he’s learned better.

"You should be resting," he murmurs.

She smiles. "I’ll rest later."

That’s when it hits him—this is her victory lap. This is the last thing she wants to see. He swallows. Around them, the guests settle. Lira stands at the far end of the courtyard.

She looks... beautiful. That’s undeniable. Her dress is pale silver, cut in the traditional Luna style; elegant, flowing, embroidered with moon sigils along the hem. Her hair is braided intricately, pinned with heirloom combs that gleam in the sunlight.

But her smile is off. It’s too stiff and practiced. Her eyes flick toward Amias once, then away, like she can’t quite stand to hold his gaze.

Her parents sit in the front row: the Beta and his wife, proud and composed. Nash stands beside them, arms crossed, expression stoic. Amias catches his eye briefly. Nash gives a small nod.

Isolde and Daphne sit together. Daphne’s hands are clenched in her lap. Isolde’s spine is straight, face carefully neutral.

Ace lounges with his sisters, Maribel and Ginny, whispering something under his breath that earns him an elbow from Maribel. Val sits alone a few rows back, eyes already shining with unshed tears. She doesn’t wave. She just watches Amias like she knows exactly how this feels. Amias’s heart skips a beat because all she does is remind him of Heidi.

He wonders if weddings make her emotional or if she’s just close to tears watching her friend’s mate about to wed another.

The Alpha arrives last. Of course he does. He takes his place with the ease of a man who has never doubted his right to be anywhere.

The officiant steps forward. It’s an elder whom Amias recognizes as the same one he saw his father silently discussing with before the court.

Somehow, he fears for Heidi and his brothers. However, knowing how powerful Heidi is, he’s instead scared for whoever would try to harm her.

That’s how strong his mate is. He almost smiles to himself before the next words that drift into his ears send it away.

"Today," the elder begins, "we bind an Alpha wolf and his Luna under the eyes of the Moon and the witness of the pack."

Amias hears the words. He just doesn’t absorb them. He walks to Lira when prompted. Takes his place opposite her. Their hands meet. Her palm is cold.

The vows are spoken. Ancient words that have bound generations. Promises of protection. Loyalty. Unity. Legacy.

Amias says them clearly and perfectly because Clarissa is watching. Lira’s voice, however, wavers on the last line. The binding ritual begins.

Their hands are cut, shallow but symbolic. Blood mingles in the ceremonial bowl. The fire flares briefly, reacting to the bond. A ripple of magic hums through the courtyard.

But this... It doesn’t feel like love to Amias. It feels like a lock snapping shut.

"By the will of the Moon," the elder declares, "you are bound."

Applause breaks out. Polite, controlled, and relief-laced.

Clarissa claps weakly, tears shining in her eyes. "My Alpha," she whispers.

Amias bows his head to her. It’s done. They are married.

Afterward, there’s a brief reception filled with wine, light food, and murmured congratulations. Lira stands beside him, accepting well-wishes like a queen carved from marble.

Amias watches her closely.

She barely eats. Barely drinks. When people congratulate her, she thanks them without warmth. When someone jokes about heirs, her jaw tightens. This is not the behavior of a woman who fought tooth and nail to become Luna.

Eventually, he leans toward her. "I need to go to my mother."

She turns immediately. "Of course."

That easy? Without the slightest hint of disappointment or hesitation?

"I’ll make it up to you," he adds quietly. "Tonight, or—soon."

She nods too quickly. "Take all the time you need."

That... doesn’t sit right.

He studies her face. "Lira."

"Yes?"

"Is something wrong?"

Her smile shifts to a side before it fully dissipates.

"What’s wrong?" she repeats, incredulous. "What’s wrong is everything."

He reaches for her instinctively but she slaps his hand away. The sound is sharp and echoes until nearby conversations waver.

"Don’t touch me," she snaps, eyes blazing. "Not right now."

Amias freezes. "Lira..."

"You want to know what’s bothering me? It’s the Bellamys. Every damn one of you!"

His chest tightens. "Is it me or my brothers or..."

"Your brother!," she spits. "Your precious, exiled, rule-breaking brother! And her."

He knows who she means.

"She ruined everything," Lira says. "She ruined the pack. She ruined even you. And yet somehow she still gets to walk away while I’m left cleaning up the mess."

"That’s not fair," Amias recoils quietly.

She lets out a short and bitter laugh. "Neither is marrying a man who’s in love with someone else."

That sends silence slamming between them.

Her eyes glisten. "Congratulations, Alpha," she says coldly. "You got everything you wanted."

She turns and walks away, leaving him standing in the courtyard, newly crowned, newly married, and more alone than he’s ever been. Behind him, the fire crackles. Above him, the sky is clear...

... somewhere deep in his chest, something essential finally gives up.