The Cursed Alpha’s Mate

Chapter6

Chapter 6

The corridor leading outside was dimly lit, the stone walls stretching high, suffocating. The moment they stepped through the grand archway, her senses were overwhelmed by the scent of fresh roses and burning incense. The pathway before her was lined with white petals, scattered across the ground like a trail leading to her execution.

Torches burned on either side, their flames flickering in the night breeze.

And beyond them, the pack was waiting.

Hundreds of wolves stood in the courtyard, their bodies tense with anticipation. The moment they caught sight of her, a deafening roar of approval rose into the air.

"Hail the Luna!"

"Our Alpha's mate!"

"She will bring us strength!"

Selene barely heard them.

She walked forward, her steps measured, her face an unreadable mask. But inside, she was screaming.

These people weren't celebrating her.

They were celebrating what she would give them.

A tool. A necessity. A means to an end.

Her hands clenched at her sides as she scanned the crowd, ignoring the countless eyes on her, the murmurs of approval, the reverence in their voices.

She only cared about one person.

Where was he?

Her gaze swept through the sea of bodies, searching. And then—

Then came Alpha Killian.

Selene's heart slammed against her ribs.

He stood at the end of the pathway, just beneath the ceremonial altar, dressed in a dark, intricately embroidered tunic that did nothing to soften the harshness of his presence.

His expression was unreadable, cold. But his eyes—

His silver eyes piercing as they roamed over her

Selene's gaze locked onto him, and the moment it did, something inside her shifted.

A jolt of energy surged through her veins, raw and primal.

Mate.

Nyx, her wolf, howled in joy, a sound that echoed in the depths of her soul. She clawed at Selene's restraint, desperate to break free, to run to him, to claim him.

Selene gritted her teeth, her body trembling as she fought against the sudden, overwhelming pull. It was instinct—burning, undeniable instinct—urging her to surrender, to submit to the bond, to let Nyx take control and shift right there under the moonlight.

No.

She wasn't some lovesick fool. She wasn't one of the weak-willed she-wolves who melted under the weight of a mate bond.

She hated him.

This was a trick. A cruel, twisted part of nature that she would never give in to.

So she swallowed the fire that coursed through her, locking Nyx in a cage of iron will.

She focused instead on the man before her—the man who had ruined her life, who had stolen her freedom.

Killian's expression remained unreadable, but something flickered in his gaze. Recognition. A knowing that settled deep within his dark eyes as if he could sense her struggle.

Her fists clenched at her sides.

I will never belong to you.

And yet, her traitorous heart pounded harder with every step she took toward him.

Selene's heart pounded against her ribs.

Not from fear.

From rage.

If tonight was meant to be her last, she would make sure he regretted ever crossing paths with her.

The ceremony passed in a haze. Selene barely registered the chants, the vows,

and the press of a ceremonial blade against her palm as their blood was mingled before the pack. The weight of it all—the gazes fixed on her, the deafening roars of celebration—felt distant, muted, as if she were watching from outside her own body.

The only thing that kept her grounded was the raging storm inside her. The need to run. The need to fight.

Before she could fully process what had happened, she was being pulled away. Strong hands guided her through torch-lit hallways, past warriors and elders, past faces filled with reverence as they bowed in her direction.

Then suddenly, she was inside a different room—one unlike anything she had ever seen before.

It was magnificent. Large and bathed in soft golden candlelight. White petals covered the floors, and the bed, the air itself seemed to hum with the scent of roses and something darker—something ancient.

Her stomach twisted.

No... No, this isn't—

A door opened, and before she could react, a group of maids entered.

Selene took an instinctive step back as they approached, their hands reaching for her.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

None of them answered. They moved in perfect sync, untying the ceremonial robe from her shoulders, and letting the thick fabric fall to the ground.

Panic flared in her chest as cold air kissed her skin.

"Stop—"

She shoved at their hands, twisting away, but they were relentless, their touch firm yet reverent, as if she were something sacred.

"It is time, Luna," one of them finally said. "The ritual must be consummated."

The words sent a cold dagger of realization through her.

Consummate.

The most important part of the mating ritual.

Selene froze. Her body stiffened as the truth crashed over her.

They continued their work, brushing her hair, and curl weaving delicate petals around her head like a crown. Their voices murmured soft blessings, words of devotion—of duty.

She barely heard them.

She stood there, naked, still trying to process what was happening when the door opened again.

As Killian stepped into the room, the air shifted.

The maids, who had been fussing over her only moments ago, bowed their heads and scurried away in silent obedience, leaving them alone.

Selene stood frozen, her bare skin prickling under the weight of his gaze. His eyes swept over her—dark, piercing, unreadable. But then something flickered, something almost hesitant, and he wrenched his gaze away, his jaw tightening.

With rigid movements, he stepped forward, as if forcing himself to continue.

But Selene wasn't waiting.

Blinded by fury, by fear, she lunged.

Her fingers closed around the heavy candlestick by the bedside before she swung it with everything she had.

Killian barely had time to react. He caught her wrist at the last second, stopping the weapon inches from his skull.

"Are you insane?" he growled, his grip tightening.

Selene snarled, yanking against his hold, her body thrumming with desperation. He was going to kill her. He was going to complete this ritual and end her life, just like the legend foretold.

"I won't die without a fight!" she spat, twisting violently in his grasp.

Killian exhaled sharply, shoving the candlestick away. "For f**k's sake, Selene—calm down."

She laughed, wild and bitter. "Calm down? You dragged me here to die, and you want me to calm down?"

His eyes darkened. "You're not going to die."

She stilled, chest heaving. "What?"

Killian's jaw clenched, his hands twitching at his sides. "The ritual won't kill you."

Selene searched his face, waiting for the lie, but all she saw was frustration, controlled and simmering beneath the surface.

"Then why the hell did you force this on me?" she snapped. "You of all people should know what happens when the cursed Alpha mates! I've heard the stories. The moment you complete this, I—"

"You don't know s**t about the curse," he cut in, his voice sharp.

Selene's heart pounded. "Then tell me."

A muscle in his jaw ticked. His hands curled into fists before he finally exhaled, shaking his head. "The curse doesn't activate through the ritual," he said, voice lower now, rougher. "It only takes effect when the mates... fall in love."

Selene's breath caught.

She studied him, taking in the harsh set of his features, the coldness in his stare.

"Which is why," he continued, voice like steel, "you won't die. Because I will never love you."