Be my mate

CHAPTER ONE Beth POV I was the black widow! I was in a white dress; it was a simple dress, a mating dress that I would wear for the ceremony as well as for when I had my first night, after which it would be shown to a bunch of men who were elders to confirm I had indeed been pure. The problem was that I wasn't like other girls; this mating was not my first, but it would likely be the last if the moon goddess didn't do what she needed to do quickly. I was a black widow. But unlike the human description of these women, the men I killed were not my husband's. They were my friends. I had met my first mate when I was fourteen; it had been a miracle to find him so young; it was very rare, and so the planning had begun. But two days later, Freddy had become sick; no one knew why or what was wrong, but he never recovered and died days later. I had cried for poor Freddy, but that had been it. Everyone said it was unlucky, but the will of the goddess soon shrugged it off. The problem was that it kept repeating itself. Two years later, I met James; he was older than me by four years; I was sixteen. I thought he was cute, and at best he thought I was a teenager. Three months after our meeting, he fell ill, and that was the downhill to sickness and then to death. The whispers started once, which was a coincidence easily forgotten, but twice was a pattern and not a very good one. I met my next mate when I was eighteen, another timely two-year interval just like clock work, but this time the pack wasn't covering for me, the rumors and the harsh words that floated around the pack, the youngest three-time widow. My mother was frustrated, and my father was humiliated. Every night I cried, begging the moon goddess to let this man live. I didn't want to be a widow; I didn't want to be alone for the rest of my life. My mate was a young man called Trey; he was my age and the only son of his parents. He was not the only alpha, but he was a boy, so that made him superior to his sisters. I thought it was weird, but at the time I was more worried about my marriage than his family dynamics. This time we made it as far as the mating ceremony, and the priestess gave me a red garland. "You will be fruitful and bear fruit in all seasons," she whispered, marking my forehead with red dye. I was happy; I was getting married soon, and I would have someone to love and cherish. Someone who would love and cherish me in return. I had spoken too soon that night. As Trey wrapped his hands around my face and leaned in to kiss me, what should have been my very first kiss, he stilled, freezing like a block of ice, and collapsed against my chest. That was very anticlimactic compared to the others, but that was it. It was the accusations that came after, the rumors that I was killing off my mother to give my father the Alpha the prestige he had in all their other affairs. I spent days in my room crying. My mother fell sick with all the accusations coming in, and she was still in bed even as I was being sent off to mate. I seemed to be the angel of death, walking and roaming like a free bird, unable to cage myself even if I wanted to. And maybe that was what I was, the angel of death. But here I was again, doing it again. This time my mate was someone from another pack; he likely didn't know me, and he probably didn't know anything about the fate of my previous mates. My father had done well to keep that hidden. His name was Landry from the Crescent Moon pack; hopefully, a mating would ally their home to mine the Black Fangs. I was afraid, and I didn't want to do that. My fingers felt clammy and wet. Involuntarily, I formed a fist, my palm itching me all of a sudden, and I felt hot and cold at the same time. I knew that I had to deal with the nerves, but it was hard to be rational when I saw my future playing out before me, and I knew it wouldn't end well. Being mated with this man could bring him closer to death than anything I knew of. "Stop sulking and smile," my father huffed. "You're already too pale; now you just look like a corpse," he muttered, and I stiffened. He wasn't lying; I did likely look like one, and considering the fact that I was worried about killing another man, it was justified. "I don't want to do this," I gritted, and he frowned. "So what do you want to do? Remain with your father forever," he grunted. It didn't sound like a bad idea, but I didn't say that out loud because my father loved and cared for me with all his heart. He was the leader of this pack, and it was his duty to care for every one of us, so he did his duty. He cupped my cheek in his palm. "You will be fine; you've suffered so much already; the goddess has to cut you some slack," he said softly, kissing my cheek. I gulped and followed him to the wedding hall. My father led me to the ancestral ground, where the priestess stood with a bored look. "You think the fourth time will be the charm, little Canndor? I huffed in amusement. "Let's hope so." She led me to the front of the altar, and the familiar chants began. The garlands and the red dye were all haunting me with their similarities. We said the vows and the prayers, and then we were mated. We had drinks and food and roamed around the ground, celebrating a union I wasn't sure would last. The fourth time wasn't the charm! Freddy James Trey Landry. Four mates are all dead. There was no denying it now. I was a black widow.