My Alpha Sacrificed Me, Claimed by His Crown Prince Brother

ELARA'S POV:

The sacrifice was supposed to be my sister.

Seraphina Thorne, the late Crown Prince Alistair Vanderbilt IV's consort, was meant to be sealed alive beside his coffin tonight. Alistair had been sickly since childhood and had died before his prime. The kingdom called it an ancient rite of loyalty: a living wife sent to serve her dead husband beyond the veil.

I had come to save her.

But as Prince Gideon Vanderbilt's hand closed around my arm and Seraphina stepped from the shadows in a gold gown, smiling like she had already won, I understood the truth too late.

I had not come to lead my sister out of the crypt.

I had come to die in her place.

An hour earlier-

"Are you cold, my love?"

Gideon's voice was a low murmur, his breath warm against my ear. The cold of the stone corridor seeped through the thin silk of my gown, but his arm was a possessive anchor around my waist. He pulled his velvet cloak tighter around my shoulders.

I leaned into his embrace, trying to stop the shivers that had nothing to do with the temperature. "It's not the cold, Gideon. It's this place. And what we're about to do..."

"We will get her out," he said softly. "My men have drawn the guards to the south passage. We have only a few minutes, but it is enough."

I looked up at his handsome face, the strong jaw and amber eyes that I had adored for years. He was Prince Gideon Vanderbilt, my husband, the future of my house. "I still can't believe Father agreed to let them do this. To let them bury Seraphina alive."

My younger sister was about to be entombed alive. As Crown Prince Alistair's consort, she had been chosen to follow him into death. Everyone called it an honor. I called it barbaric.

"Lord Thorne is a practical man," Gideon said, his expression solemn. "He knows defying the King would destroy your family." His grip tightened on my waist. "But we are not leaving Seraphina to die for their politics."

The certainty in his voice steadied me. I had begged him to help me. He had promised we would flee with Seraphina before the ritual began, take her beyond the northern border, and never let the royal court find her.

I wanted to believe him. I had to believe him. It was the only thing that made this horrifying night bearable. But a flicker of unease, a tiny, cold serpent, uncoiled in my gut.

We continued walking, the corridor sloping downwards. The smell of dust and something ancient, like dried herbs, grew stronger. The silence was absolute.

"Gideon, where are the royal guards?" I asked, my steps faltering. "And the Elders? If your men created a distraction, shouldn't we hear something?"

"They are occupied," he said a little too quickly. "The King and Queen are grieving. They ordered the ritual handled quietly."

The explanation felt thin. We arrived before a massive, iron-bound door engraved with the royal crest: a snarling wolf under a crescent moon. This was it. The entrance to the Vanderbilt family crypt.

Gideon released me and pushed the heavy door. It groaned open, revealing a cavernous, dark space beyond. The air that rushed out was stale and frigid.

"Where is Seraphina?" I whispered, peering into the oppressive darkness. I saw no one. No priests, no guards, just the faint outline of a sarcophagus in the center.

"She's waiting for you," Gideon said from behind me. His voice had lost all its warmth. It was flat, detached.

I turned to question him, and my eyes fell on his hands. He wasn't wearing the ceremonial gloves required for entering a royal tomb. A small detail, but it screamed at me. My gaze traveled up to his face. The loving mask had vanished. In its place was a chillingly blank expression. His amber eyes were cold, like a predator watching its prey.

"Gideon?" My voice was a thread. The serpent of unease in my gut was now a dragon of pure terror.

He didn't answer. Instead, he gestured into the crypt. "After you, Elara."

I took an involuntary step back, bumping into the cold stone wall. "No. Something is wrong."

From the darkness of the crypt, a second figure emerged. The faint torchlight caught the shimmer of a pale gold dress and the glint of amber earrings.

My breath caught in my throat.

It was Seraphina. My sister. Looking radiant, healthy, and very much alive.

She glided towards us, a triumphant, venomous smile playing on her lips. She didn't look at me. Her eyes were only for Gideon.

"Thank you for coming to save me, sister," Seraphina said, her voice dripping with mockery. "You were always so eager to play the hero."

My mind went white. Seraphina was supposed to be the sacrifice. The ritual was for her. But she was here. And I was the one being led into the tomb.

Gideon's hand clamped down on my arm, his fingers digging in like talons. I was an Omega, physically no match for a royal Alpha like him. No matter how I twisted or fought, his grip held me effortlessly still.

"You wanted to save her," Gideon said. "And you will. By taking her place."

Seraphina smiled. "I never asked you to rescue me, Elara. But you walked into the crypt so willingly. That was almost sweet."

The truth crashed down on me with the force of a physical blow. There was no escape plan for Seraphina. There had never been one.

The sacrifice... it was always me.

Gideon shoved me into the crypt. The momentum sent me stumbling across the freezing stone floor. The heavy iron door clanged shut behind me, the sound of the bolt sliding home echoing like a death sentence.

Panic clawed at my throat. I scrambled back to the door, pounding my fists against the unyielding iron. "Gideon! Let me out! What is the meaning of this?"

Seraphina's mocking laughter was my only answer. "Silly sister," she cooed, stepping into the light of a single flickering torch. "Did you really think he'd choose you?"

Gideon stood beside her, his face a mask of cold indifference. The man I loved was gone, replaced by this monster. "You were always just a placeholder, Elara. A convenient, boring substitute until I could have what I truly wanted."

From the shadows near Alistair's marble sarcophagus, another figure stepped forward. It was Willa, my own handmaiden, holding a silver tray with a goblet of dark red wine. Her eyes refused to meet mine.

"Willa? You're a part of this?" The betrayal from my own servant cut almost as deep as Gideon's.

"Drink it, Elara," Seraphina commanded, gesturing to the goblet. "It's a special vintage. A parting gift."

I stared at the dark liquid. Poison. They weren't just entombing me. They were murdering me. "No. I won't."

Gideon sighed, an impatient sound. He stalked forward, grabbed me by the hair, and yanked my head back. The pain was sharp and blinding. Seraphina pressed the goblet to my lips.

"Oh, you will." She pinched my nose shut, forcing my mouth open. The bitter, metallic wine flooded my throat. I choked and struggled, but Gideon's Alpha strength held me helplessly in place.

They released me, and I collapsed to the floor, coughing and gagging. A fire started in my stomach, quickly spreading through my veins. It was agonizing, searing pain.

My vision blurred. Through the haze, I saw Seraphina wrap her arms around Gideon's neck. "Now she's taken care of," she purred.

Gideon's hands slid down to her waist, pulling her close. "Now, we can celebrate our future."

My body convulsed. The poison was working fast. But the greatest agony was not the poison. It was watching them desecrate Alistair's tomb. The dead Crown Prince lay only a few feet away, sealed inside the marble sarcophagus that should have been Seraphina's prison.

Gideon pushed Seraphina back against it. He tore open the bodice of her pale gold dress, exposing the soft swell of her breasts to the flickering torchlight. Seraphina gasped, then laughed as his mouth closed over her nipple through the torn fabric. Her fingers tangled in his dark hair while he dragged her skirts up her thighs.

"We should have done this years ago," she breathed.

"We did," Gideon said, his hand disappearing beneath her lifted skirts. "Every time she thought I was with her, I was thinking about you."

Seraphina moaned against his mouth, shameless and loud in the sacred silence. They kissed with desperate, greedy hunger before the grave of the man she had publicly mourned as her husband. Their affair had not begun tonight. It had only been freed from hiding by my death.

I forced my burning eyes toward Alistair's sarcophagus. He had been betrayed too-robbed of dignity even in death, while the woman meant to lie beside him spread herself for his brother over his grave.

I'm sorry, Alistair, I thought as darkness swallowed the edges of my vision. You deserved better than this traitorous pair.

If there was another life, I would make Gideon and Seraphina pay every debt in blood. And I would clear Alistair's name, too. No matter what it cost me.