Two Alphas, One Curse
652 Words
Being a Moretti is not about fame. A lot of people envy us, looking at the surface of our lives and wishing they could walk in our boots. My twin, Drake, and I are constantly pursued, but we carry a secret that no one sees.
We were cursed with a terrible sickness—a rot in our souls that only our true mate can cure. Between Drake and me, he has always been the more possessive one.
Since birth, he has craved control, but as we grew, that trait turned into something darker. We realized our curse was finally taking root, threatening to turn us into mindless, feral Alphas.
We have always shared everything: the same womb, the same toys, the same clothes. Even our parents struggle to tell Drake and Dracon apart. So, when the seer told us we would share a single mate, it wasn't a surprise. We knew it before it was ever spoken.
I looked up, finally acknowledging the she-wolf standing before us. It had become a grim tradition. Every time the curse acted up, every time the agitation in our veins became unbearable, we had to find a distraction. We needed a release to pour out the irritation that burned beneath our skin.
But lately, it has become impossible to feel anything at all.
Most females were either grossed out or intimidated by the idea of two Alphas. They didn't understand that for us, this wasn't about pleasure.
It was about survival. It was about finding a way to stop the ticking clock before we turned into monsters and killed everything in sight.
I glanced at Drake. He felt it too—the crushing boredom, the lack of spark. The act had become a chore, a hollow attempt to keep our sanity. Forcing ourselves to touch another when our souls were crying out for a mate we hadn't found yet was exhausting.
The she-wolf stood before us, trembling slightly as she dropped her hands, exposing herself to our clinical, tired gazes.
"This is your final chance to leave," Drake said, his voice was like grinding stones. "If you cannot endure what we are, get out now."
"Use me however you want, my Alpha princes," she whispered.
I smirked, but there was no heat in it. My body felt like a lead. I watched Drake move toward her, his movements robotic and devoid of affection.
When he spoke, his voice was hoarse with the weight of the curse. He wasn't looking for a lover; he was looking for a silencer for the roar in his head.
She tried to be seductive, moaning in a way that felt forced and desperate. It grated on my nerves. My wolf, Kyle, paced inside me, irritated by the noise. I stood up, grabbing a discarded piece of fabric to gag her.
"Shut up," I commanded, my Alpha voice vibrating through the room, making the very walls tremble. "Just endure it."
We moved through the motions. There was no foreplay, no tenderness, no care. It was a mechanical rhythm, a desperate attempt to reach a release that would quiet the madness. She was lost in a world of her own, but Drake and I were trapped in ours.
After some time, I felt the familiar wave of defeat. I pulled away, sitting back and watching my brother. We were unable to reach the end. The curse was growing stronger than the distraction. The physical act was no longer enough to mask the hollowness.
"Get out!" my wolf roared through my throat.
The girl didn't need to be told twice. She scrambled for her clothes and fled the room.
I met Drake's eyes. They were filled with bone-deep tiredness—and the cold, sharp fear of what we would become if we didn't find our mate soon.
"It’s not working anymore," I said softly. "We’re running out of time."
- Writer
