SUFFER AT THE HAND OF MY MATE: TRAPPED BY TWO.

The Alpha’s Submission

The moon-kissed waters of the lake were preternaturally still, a silver mirror reflecting a sky heavy with ancient secrets. I dunked my head beneath the surface, the chill a welcome contrast to the fever that usually burned in my veins. I was tired—deeply, structurally tired. The power of my rank, the hollow echoes of fame, and the relentless pressure of the curse had woven a web of restlessness around my soul. But here, in the basin rumored to have been used by the moon goddess herself, the static in my mind went quiet

.

I ran my hand through my hair, letting the cold water trickle down my back, each drop feeling like a small mercy. At this moment, I was finally at peace. The curse was still there, coiled in the dark corners of my DNA, but it wasn't potent. It was as if the lake had cast a veil over the monster within. Finally, my wolf was not restless; he wasn't frustrated or trying to claw his way out to devour everyone in his path.

"Let me out," Kyle, my wolf, whispered. His voice, usually a jagged snarl, was uncharacteristically soft, lulled by the divinity of the water.

Letting my wolf out at this moment was probably the worst mistake I could make. An Alpha’s control is his only shield against the madness of the curse. But the peace was intoxicating, and I found myself nodding. Slowly, I gave up the reins. I let my wolf take control. To my surprise, the transformation wasn't as painful as usual; there was no sound of cracking bones or the searing heat of tearing skin. It was smooth and steady, a fluid transition from man to beast. However, the price was high: I was rendered powerless at this moment, relegated to the backseat of my own consciousness, having surrendered total control to Kyle.

Kyle was incredibly energetic, his spirit surging with a frantic joy because he had been kept caged for so long. My big black wolf leapt out of the water, fur glistening like polished onyx under the moonlight, and picked up his pace for a run through the forest. The freedom was peaceful—something Kyle and I had always craved, but something we’d been deprived of for so long by the heavy crown I wore.

But the joy did not last long.

As we tore through the underbrush, I suddenly started to feel my wolf going wild again. The serenity of the lake was fading, replaced by a jagged, electric heat. It felt as though something was suddenly rending my wolf mad; a primitive, sudden thirst for blood was rising like a tide. The curse wasn't gone; it had only been sleeping, and now it woke with a ravenous hunger.

He killed every animal he saw on sight. A rabbit, a fox, a buck—it didn't matter. Kyle was a blur of shadow and teeth. I tried to stop him from the back of my mind, pushing against the mental walls of our shared consciousness, but I didn't have that much power at the moment. Kyle was the one in charge, and he seemed unable to control his taste for fresh blood. Worse, he wouldn't give me a chance to help him or pull him back, driven by the lingering fear of what happened the last time I tried to forcibly take control.

Kyle was in the middle of devouring a deer he had just killed, his muzzle stained crimson, when I suddenly felt a human presence. Fear gripped me. I cannot stop Kyle at this moment, and the bloodlust was clouding his reason. The fact that he could kill a person right now was alarming; before, I wasn't as worried because it was only the animals of the forest, but seeing that things were about to get out of control, I fought for the reins. Kyle snarled internally, barring me from the front.

"Awooooooo!" Kyle howled, a sound of pure predatory challenge, as he locked his gaze on a figure by the side of the lake I had just left.

Slowly, Kyle prowled toward her. She was a female wolf, likely an Omega judging from her small stature and the delicate, unassuming nature of her scent. She looked fragile against the backdrop of the ancient trees. Yet, instead of cowering away in fear or fleeing into the shadows like any sane creature would, this she-wolf locked eyes with Kyle.

It was something no one had ever done before. My Beta, my warriors—they were all too scared to even stand in Kyle’s presence when the madness took him. But here she was. No fear, no "sorry," no anxiety. There was only a profound, quiet stillness about her—a pure acceptance of whatever was going to happen, as if she were a part of the lake itself.

"Awoooooooo!" Kyle howled again, moving closer, baring his massive canines which were still dripping with the blood of the deer. He wanted to see her break. He wanted to see the terror. But the she-wolf remained seated, her gaze unwavering, staring into the abyss of Kyle’s golden eyes.

As Kyle approached the brave she-wolf, coming within striking distance, a very intricate scent hit us like a physical blow. It was a sensory explosion that bypassed the bloodlust and struck the very core of our being: rich vanilla mixed with sharp, spicy cinnamon.

"Awoooooooo!" Kyle howled a third time, but the note had changed completely. It was no longer a threat or a call to hunt; it was a cry of agonizing joy and overwhelming happiness. The madness that had been rending him apart just moments ago evaporated, replaced by a magnetic pull so strong it felt like our souls were being rewritten.

When he reached her, Kyle did the unthinkable. My proud, dominant Alpha wolf bared his neck—a sign of total submission and respect, something an Alpha should never be found doing, especially not to an Omega. But rank didn't matter here. The curse didn't matter.

Kyle reached out and gently licked the she-wolf’s face, cleaning the air between them.

'Mate,' Kyle groaned within our mind, the word vibrating through my entire existence. He locked his gaze with the she-wolf, his heart beating in sync with hers for one brilliant, blinding second—until the sheer intensity of the encounter became too much, and she promptly passed out in the grass.