THE FORGOTTEN BLOODLINE
Chapter One: The Curse of the Alpha
Blood & Moonlight
The battlefield smelled of death.
Alpha Ronald stood among the fallen, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths, his claws dripping with blood—some his own, some from the rogues that had dared trespass on his land. His warriors had won, but the victory felt hollow.
Because his curse was worsening.
Pain coiled in his gut, spreading like poison through his veins. He clenched his fists, his wolf thrashing violently inside him. It wanted something beyond his grasp.
Then he saw her.
A lone she-wolf moved through the c*****e, her black fur gleaming under the moonlight. Her silver eyes met his, sharp as daggers.
Ronald’s entire body tensed. His wolf snapped toward her.
Mate.
The word struck him like a blade to the chest. His lungs seized. The bond had an undeniable pull, like gravity—**had snapped into place.
But the woman before him did not react the way a fated mate should.
She took a step back.
"You shouldn’t look at me like that," she whispered.
The words were soft, but the pain behind them was sharp.
Before he could move, she turned and disappeared into the trees, leaving him breathless and shaken.
And for the first time in years, the curse inside him… went still.
The Mating Moon Festivities
Two days later, Ronald stood at the edge of the Mating Moon Festival.
The air was thick with anticipation. Wolves from allied packs had gathered in the clearing, dressed in ceremonial robes, waiting for fate to bind them. The festival was supposed to be a night of destiny, where the moon revealed true mates.
But for Ronald, it was a mockery.
The witch’s curse had stolen his ability to trust his own instincts. He had felt the mate bond snap toward Lyia, yet she had run from him.
Now, he saw her again.
She stood at the far end of the gathering, her silver eyes locked onto him. Not with longing. Not with happiness. With something else. Dread.
His wolf snarled, desperate to claim her.
Then, pain tore through him.
Ronald gritted his teeth as fire spread through his chest. His vision blurred. His knees buckled. The curse was consuming him, tearing at his soul, demanding—
A soft touch.
A cool, delicate hand pressed against his forehead, soothing the flames. The moment the touch registered, the pain vanished, leaving behind only a strange warmth.
His eyes fluttered open.
A woman knelt before him, concern written across her face. Golden and blue eyes. Wildflower-scented skin.
"Evelyn," she murmured, offering her a small smile. "You’re safe now."
But something inside Ronald whispered—I am anything but safe.
****
Ronald sat inside the healer’s tent, his mind clouded with questions.
He had felt the mate bond with Lyia, but it was Evelyn’s touch that soothed the curse.
Was fate playing games with him? Or was the curse twisting his instincts, making him doubt the truth?
Evelyn busied herself with herbs, crushing them into a fine powder. She worked in silence, her movements careful and practiced.
"You don’t need to stay," Ronald said.
Evelyn glanced up. "You’re still in pain."
"I’ve survived worse."
A soft laugh. "That’s the problem. You survive, but you don’t heal."
He didn’t have an answer for that.
Evelyn hesitated, then placed her hand over his. The warmth returned instantly, sinking deep into his bones.
"You don’t have to be strong all the time, Alpha," she murmured.
Ronald stiffened. No one spoke to him like this. No one dared.
Except her.
His wolf was calm around Evelyn.
But when he thought of Lyia—his body burned, his wolf raged, his soul ached.
Two women. Two completely different reactions. And he couldn’t trust his own instincts to tell him which one was real.
***
That night, as the festival wound down, Ronald stepped outside the healer’s tent.
And found Lyia waiting for him.
Moonlight cast a silver glow on her skin, her dark hair cascading over one shoulder. She was beautiful. Untouchable.
"You should have stayed away," she said softly.
His jaw clenched. "You ran from me."
Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something. Instead, she looked away.
"It’s not safe for you to be near me, Ronald."
His wolf bristled. "Not safe?"
"Because of the curse?" he pressed. "Or because of something else?"
Lyia’s silver eyes darkened. "You don’t know the truth, Ronald. If you did…" She shook her head. "You wouldn’t want me as your mate."
Something inside him snapped.
In a heartbeat, he was in front of her, backing her against the nearest tree.
"Do you think I have a choice in this?" he growled.
Lyia swallowed hard, her breath unsteady. "I think… I think you should run while you still can."
Ronald should have listened.
Instead, he closed the distance between them, his hand cupping her jaw. The moment their skin touched, a shock ran through his body.
The bond pulled tighter, stronger than before.
Lyia sucked in a sharp breath. "This… this is wrong."
Ronald’s thumb brushed over her lips. "Then why does it feel so right?"
Her body trembled, but she didn’t push him away.
And that was all the invitation he needed.
He kissed her.
The moment their lips met, the world exploded.
The darkness was awakened.
The pain and agony was unbearable.
Ronald’s vision shattered.
A flash of fire. Blood. A woman’s scream.
He staggered back, gasping.
Lyia’s silver eyes were glowing.
And in that moment, he saw it—a mark on her skin, black as night.
The same mark that had been on the witch’s son before Ronald killed him.
His mate. His mate had been bound to the darkness.
"Lyia…" His voice was raw, broken.
She turned away, stepping into the shadows.
"I told you," she whispered. "You don’t want me."
And then she was gone.
Ronald stood there, his heart hammering, the curse inside him howling.
Because now, he knew the truth.
The witch’s curse had never been about killing him.
It had been about making him love the one woman he could never have.
And the worst part?
He already did.
