The Genetic Bride: Alpha's Obsession

ISABELLA'S POV The silence in the mansion had always been this suffocating, but tonight, it felt heavier than it was. Like the very air had been wrapped in chains I couldn’t see, but could feel sinking deep into my skin. I lay still on the cold bed, staring up at the ceiling I once admired for its beauty, now despising every intricate curve of it for mocking me. The soft and silky nightgown that I'm wearing stuck to my skin with the sweat of fear and defiance. The chains around my wrists tugged cruelly whenever I shifted, biting into raw flesh that once wore diamonds and gold. I used to walk runways under glittering lights and the crowd's cheers; now, I was here—nothing more than a prisoner in this cursed place. My thoughts barely shifted when the large door slowly opened. I didn't have to look. I felt him even from afar. Sebastian Whitlock, the last Alpha of a bloodline older than memory itself. He used to be a good big brother to me. I never imagined, not even once, that he would do this to me. He became more than just a beast—he abducted me without mercy and brought me to this haunting fortress, forcing me to be his mate. I’ve been locked in this place for almost a year. Every single day has been pure torture, and even now, I’m still resisting him. I don’t love him. He can’t force his way into my heart. I won’t allow it, even if I die here. I forced myself to stay calm when I felt his presence filling the room like a thick smoke, choking and squeezing my airway until I could barely breathe. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing him away. But the scent of him—dark, woodsy and devastating— wrapped around me stronger than any chain. “Still fighting, Bella?” His voice was low, rich, and dangerous. It slid over my skin like velvet laced with thorns. I said nothing. Silence was the last weapon I had. And even that felt too fragile in his presence. I heard the click of his boots against the floor, each step closer, until the bed dipped over. My heart stuttered madly inside my chest when his big hand brushed my ankle. It was just a featherlight touch, yet it burned and seeped through the thin material of my nightgown. I stiffened at it, a tremor betraying me before I could stop that unwelcomed sensation. "You're trembling," he murmured, his voice almost fondly. "Is it fear... or something else?" I swallowed hard, biting back a retort. His fingers traveled up slowly, tracing the line of my calf, the curve of my thigh, until he was hovering just above the edge of my gown. His touch was firm now, claiming, demanding, as if he had every right. "Bastian, don’t," I rasped, hating how weak my voice sounded, how much my body betrayed the fight still raging in my heart. "You can lie to yourself all you want," he said, his hand sliding beneath my dress, his palm flattening against the bare skin of my hip. "But your body knows the truth. It knows who it belongs to." I jerked against the chains, trying to pull away, but he caught my wrist effortlessly, pinning it against the mattress. His grip wasn’t cruel—it was worse. It wasn't rough, but gentle. As if he were cradling something precious, not trapping me further. He leaned in, his breath brushing my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "You feel it too, don't you, Bella? The bond. The heat." A broken sound escaped my throat—part protest, part desperate denial. I hated that he was right. Hated how my skin burned wherever he touched, how my heart thundered against my chest, and how heat pooled low in my belly even as I fought him. "No," I whispered, but the word was paper-thin, too fragile. He nuzzled against the curve of my neck, inhaling deeply like he was memorizing my scent. Then I felt the scrape of his teeth against my skin—a light graze, but a silent promise of what he could take if I let him. "If I marked you now," he whispered, voice dark and hungry, "there would be no going back. You would be mine. Completely." I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing back the helpless tears that threatened to fall. I couldn’t let it happen. I couldn’t lose what little part of myself I still clung to. When his lips brushed over my pulse, when I felt the sharpness of his fangs dragging softly over my skin, instinct kicked in. “No!” I gasped, twisting away, putting every ounce of strength into pulling back. For a heartbeat, he froze—caught between desire and restraint. Then, slowly, he exhaled, the heat of his breath washing over my trembling body. His hand fell away from my hip, and he sat back, looking at me with dangerously close to disappointment... and something else. Wa it hunger? Endless, gnawing hunger. "You’re stubborn," he said, almost amused. "But you won’t resist me forever." I glared up at him, hating him, hating myself for the way my body still ached where he had touched me. "I will never be yours Sebastian," I spat, voice shaking but certain. He smiled—that devastating, infuriating smile that made my stomach twist into knots. "You already are," he said softly, like it was the simplest truth in the world. Sebastian rose from the bed, towering over me, every inch the predator who had found his prey. Yet he didn’t touch me again. He didn’t force what I wasn’t ready to give. Instead, he leaned down, brushing a lock of hair from my damp forehead, his touch was tender. "I’ll give you time, Bella," he murmured. "But remember—you were born to be mine. Every breath you take is already bound to me." He turned and left, the door slammed behind him, leaving the room feeling colder, emptier. I sagged against the mattress, my chest heaving, my wrists burning. I pressed my face against the pillow, biting down hard to keep the sob inside. I hadn't broken yet. But God help me... I could feel the cracks forming. And somewhere deep inside me, behind the fear and defiance, a small part of me already wondered... what if he was right? ***** SEBASTIAN'S POV She fought me again tonight. Even now, standing at the edge of her bed, I could still feel the tremor of her body under my hands. The fear in her gaze. The defiance in her voice. She said no—she meant no— but her scent told a different story. Sweet, addictive and wild. MINE.. The word thundered inside my skull, pounding against the thin barriers of control I fought to keep standing. She was supposed to be mine. She had always been mine. From the moment she was born into this world, from the very first breath she took, I had known it, smelled it in the air. Felt it in my bones. She was my fated mate. My other half. The one destiny carved from my very soul. And yet... she resisted. She's resisting me in all ways. She gave her heart to another man. She looked at him the way she was meant to look at me. And now— now she glared at me with hate burning in her beautiful eyes. Like I was the villain in her story. A low growl vibrated in my chest, rumbling so deep that it rattled the very floor beneath my boots. I turned from her before I did something I would regret. My hands clenched into fists, nails biting into my palms. My muscles trembled with the effort it took to walk away from the bed, to put even a few feet of distance between us. The wolf inside me stirred, restless and furious. To shift. Run. Hunt. The demands crashed through my mind like a storm. I bolted out, slamming the tall double doors behind me harder than necessary. The sound echoed through the endless halls of the fortress— my prison just as much as hers. The night air hit me like coldly as I stumbled outside and onto the sprawling grounds. The woods loomed beyond the walls—dark, wild—calling to me. The trees were the only witnesses to the monster I truly was. Without thought, without hesitation, I let the shirt clinging to my sweat-slicked skin ripped off allowing the transformation overtake me. Pain ripped through me—a familiar agony that I welcomed everytime. Bones cracked, lengthened, reshaped. My skin tore and knitted anew, black fur bursting from beneath. My hands became claws. My mouth elongated into a snarling muzzle. And my eyes—glowing molten gold— sliced through the darkness like twin beacons. Where the man had stood, now a beast reigned. I shook out my massive frame, the muscles under my coat rippling with suppressed violence. The trees shuddered in the wind as I lunged forward, disappearing into the woods in a blur of black fury. I ran in full speed. I ran until the world narrowed to the pound of my paws against the earth, the sting of branches whipping against my sides, the roar of blood pounding in my ears. I needed to forget. Forget the feel of her body under my hands. Forget the way her breath hitched when I almost marked her. Forget the shattered look in her eyes—like I was a nightmare she couldn’t wake up from. I slammed my shoulder hard against a tree, splitting the trunk in two with a sickening crack. Still, I didn’t stop. I didn’t slow down. I ran harder, faster, until the fortress was nothing but a distant ghost behind me. Then, at the edge of the deepest part of the forest, where even the moonlight dared not touch, I threw my head back and howled. A sound torn from the marrow of my bones. A sound of heartbreak, rage and desperation. The trees swallowed the sound, carrying it far and wide. I just made a confession and a warning. I would never let her go. I would burn the world to ash before I lost her.