Alpha and the Cursed Mate

Chapter 1 : The Weak One

"Don't touch me with your dirty hands, Moira."

Olivian's tone was as sharp as a knife, piercing her heart without mercy. She stood in front of a large mirror, her shirt buttons half-fastened and her expression cold.

Moira, standing behind her with a dark blue tie in hand, froze in place. Her thin fingers reached out but stopped midair.

“I just want to help, as usual,” she said softly, holding back the tightness in her chest caused by Olivian’s words. The corners of her lips, which had initially curled into a smile, instantly turned down.

Olivian stared at his wife's reflection in the mirror. His gaze remained cold and devoid of empathy. "You always tie the knot crooked. I don't want to leave the house with a tie tied by useless hands."

Moira's heart seemed to stop for a moment. She looked down, staring at the shiny wooden floor beneath her feet, her eyes beginning to mist over. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to—"

Olivian turned away without her noticing.

"You just want to make me look stupid in front of my parents," he cut her off quickly.

He snatched the tie from her hand roughly. “You think I don’t know how to present myself without your help?”

Moira immediately lifted her face to look at Olivian. "I didn't mean it that way," she whispered, trying to defend herself. "I just wanted to help you, Olivian."

Olivian narrowed his eyes at Moira, looking condescendingly. "I don't need help from someone who can't maintain her own dignity."

His words were cold, and Moira was hurt again.

She was transfixed. Her hazel eyes stared at Olivian, who stood tall and handsome with two dark pupils.

"Why do you always hurt me like this?" Moira asked, her lips trembling. "Am I that embarrassing to you?"

Olivian didn't answer. He slowly straightened his tie, moving calmly, and the corner of his mouth turned up in a smile.

After a few seconds, he said flatly, "You're coming to the museum tomorrow." He ignored Moira's question.

Moira frowned. "To the museum?"

"Yes, the Moonstone Heart will be on display at the exhibition, and I don't want you to disappear like you usually do."

Moira's lips trembled slightly, and she stared at Olivian in surprise. "That stone is my parents' legacy. I never agreed to you displaying it."

Olivian stared at Moira with his lips tightly closed. "Your parents' legacy will be useless if it's just stored in a dusty box. At least this time, something from you can be useful."

"Something from me?" Moira repeated hoarsely, holding back her turbulent emotions.

"Yes," he replied calmly, giving her a painful, thin smile. "Something that will make the Dunne family proud to have you as their daughter-in-law. Without that stone, they would have kicked you out long ago."

This time, Moira's chest pounded violently. She said loudly to Olivian for the first time. "You talk as if I'm a burden!"

Olivian stared at Moira for a long time, stunned because it was the first time she had seen the woman disobey her. "You should have realized this a long time ago."

After saying that, Olivian walked away. Not caring about Moira's presence, she bumped into the thin woman's body.

**

The rain fell slowly outside. The patter of the rain merged with the ticking of the clock on the wall.

Moira knelt on the floor in front of a small table where an open black velvet box lay.

Inside was a chain necklace with a small, imperfect, heart-shaped pendant. The silver frame was engraved with ancient runes.

She carefully touched the surface as if it were something sacred.

"Father, Mother, why did you leave me so quickly?" Her voice was soft and hoarse. Tears streamed down her swollen face. “Is this stone the only reason I’m still here?”

She stared at the white glow inside the stone. A soft vibration reached her fingertips, and Moira flinched slightly as a warm sensation spread through her fingers from the stone.

As she moved her hand to stroke the stone's surface again, it suddenly vibrated. A soft light shone from within the stone, illuminating her face and piercing the room.

The atmosphere in the room changed instantly. It was cold. Moira was immediately alert. She rubbed the back of her neck and looked around. However, she found nothing.

Something had happened, but it had happened so quickly. A blue light emanated from the stone, unnoticed by Moira, and quickly took over her subconscious.

In an instant, she was standing in a vast, snowy field. The sky was a pale silver.

In the distance, fog moved slowly, and the figure of a giant white wolf emerged from within it. Its fur shone in the moonlight.

Moira's body trembled. She wanted to retreat but couldn't. Then, from behind the fog, a soft baritone voice sounded, echoing in her mind:

"Luna."

That name took over her consciousness. She gasped and her eyes widened. "Who is Luna? Who are you?"

But the vision vanished in an instant. Moira found herself back in her room.

The Moonstone Heart was now dim, as if it had never shone. Her body shook violently.

Moira quickly stood up. The Moonstone remained in her grasp. Looking panicked, she turned her body 360 degrees, her gaze sweeping every corner.

Her breath came in gasps. "What was that? It was like a dream, but very real."

Moira was still pondering the incident she had just experienced.

However, laughter from downstairs broke the silence. She recognized the owner of that voice very well:

Tristyn Clancy.

Hearing that name alone made Moira's stomach churn. She stared at the slightly open door and knew immediately that they would not stop tormenting her tonight.

***

When Moira went downstairs, she was greeted by the scent of expensive perfume and cheerful laughter.

Tristyn sat coquettishly on the large sofa in a light blue dress that accentuated her charm.

Her hand was wrapped around Olivian's arm in a flirtatious manner.

"The color of your dress matches your eyes perfectly," she said softly, her fingers touching Olivian's chest.

The man just smiled slightly. "You know my taste best."

Moira stopped at the top of the stairs. Their voices felt like thorns piercing her heart.

Mrs. Evelyn, Moira's mother-in-law, stared at her from the chair across the room, her teacup suspended in midair.

"Oh, you finally showed up," she said coldly. "I thought you had forgotten how to socialize."

Moira bowed her head politely. "I was just tidying up the room, ma'am."

"There's always an excuse." Evelyn sighed cynically. “At least be grateful you still have a place to stay in this mansion.”

A soft laugh came from the young girl next to her, Olivian's younger sister. "And a husband. Although, I think that's temporary."

Tristyn chuckled. "Oh, let it be. I'm sure Moira knows her place."

Moira clutched the hem of her skirt tightly. "I just want to remind you," she said calmly. "The Moonstone Heart is ready to be displayed tomorrow."

Mrs. Evelyn stared at her sharply. "Good. You should know your place. Without that stone, you are nothing."

This time, no one argued. Even Olivian just sat there silently. It made Moira's heart ache even more.

She took a deep breath. "In that case, I'll prepare dinner."

She turned to leave before her tears started flowing again. Behind her, their light, cruel laughter broke out again, echoing off every wall of the house.

***

The kitchen was quiet. There were no maids working that night.

Moira opened the cupboard, her hands trembling as she took out the porcelain plates.

No matter how hard she tried to hold back her tears, they still fell. She quickly wiped them away with the back of her hand. She was used to crying silently.

The small mirror on the wall reflected her face. Pale and tired, but not her eyes. There was something there.

Heavy footsteps approached.

"Moira!" someone snapped.

Mrs. Evelyn appeared with a tense expression. "How long have you been here? The table isn't ready!"

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I just—"

"Shut up! Don't defend yourself!" Her voice boomed as she glared angrily at the woman. "You can stay here because of our family's generosity. Don't forget that!"

Moira bowed her head. "I won't forget."

You should be grateful we haven't kicked you out. Olivian only married you out of obligation, not love. Love is for people who deserve it, not people like you."

Moira closed her eyes for a moment. She was used to being insulted and cursed at. However, this time, she really couldn't take it. She bowed her head, her hands clenched tightly behind her apron.

Then, something inside her stirred.

Cold. It was as if she had a strong urge to fight back in her chest. But she was afraid. She was weak. She hadn't had the strength to fight back until now.

What she didn't realize, however, was that when she opened her eyes, her pupils had turned golden.

"I understand," she said softly, trying desperately to hold back her emotions.

Mrs. Evelyn paused for a moment, staring at her. There was something different in Moira's eyes—not submissive, but calm.

"I'll prepare the food right away," Moira continued.

Evelyn snorted. "Make sure Tristyn's soup is served in a separate bowl. He's allergic to anything dirty, especially anything that comes from your hands."

The door slammed shut. Moira felt the silence again.

She stood there, staring at the pot boiling on the stove.

Then, something vibrated in her dress pocket.

She took out the Moonstone Heart.

The stone lit up again. A soft blue light flowed between her fingers and penetrated her skin until she could feel its pulse, like a living heart.

Moira stared at the stone with wide eyes. Her breath caught. For a moment, her reflection in the mirror shifted.

She dropped the stone to the floor.

In the trembling reflection of the moonstone on the tiles, she did not see her own face.

"Moira!"