The Cursed Alpha’s Mate

Chapter1

Prologue: The Curse

Many years ago,

The night was painted in blood.

The Moon Goddess stood at the edge of the sacred lake, her silver hair cascading like liquid light down her back. Her eyes burned with sorrow as she gazed at the kneeling Alpha before her—a man once chosen to lead with honor but who had instead betrayed the laws of fate.

"You have defied the balance of the bond," her voice echoed, ancient and unyielding. "You have killed your mate, staining your soul with a sin that cannot be undone."

The Silvercrest Alpha, broken and trembling, dared to lift his gaze. "I never meant to—"

"But you did," the Goddess interrupted. "And for your crime, your bloodline will suffer."

She raised her hand, and the air grew heavy with the weight of divine wrath.

"From this night forth, every Alpha born of your lineage will be cursed to kill the one destined to be theirs. No mate shall ever bring them peace—only death."

The Alpha screamed as the curse took hold, a searing agony that passed from his soul to the unborn generations that would come after him. And high above them, the moon bled red, marking the beginning of a fate no wolf could escape.

Chapter 1: The Hunt

Selene ran.

The forest was alive with the scent of rain-soaked earth and pine, but all Selene could smell was blood.

The woods stretched endlessly before her, dark and wild, the scent of damp earth and pine filling her lungs. The cold night air burned her throat as she forced herself to keep moving. Every step sent sharp pains through her bare feet, but she ignored it. Stopping meant death.

The howls behind her grew louder. The hunters were closing in.

Her torn dress clung to her like a second skin, damp with sweat and streaked with dirt. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she weaved through the trees, her body moving on instinct. She was faster than most, but she was also alone—a rogue, without a pack to protect her.

And in the world of wolves, a lone rogue was nothing more than prey.

Pack wolves saw them as feral, dangerous creatures that needed to be put down. They didn't care that she had never attacked an innocent, that she had never killed anyone. To them, she was a stain on their world. A reminder of the wolves who refused to submit.

The ache in her ribs deepened, and Selene winced. She pressed a shaky hand against her side, feeling the wet warmth of blood soaking through her torn clothes. If she didn't find somewhere to rest, she wouldn't make it through the night.

She needed shelter.

And fast.

The forest was alive with the scent of rain-soaked earth and pine, but all Selene could smell was blood.

Her lungs burned as she sprinted through the dense underbrush, her feet pounding against the damp ground. Her wolf, Nyx, growled inside her mind, urging her to keep going.

Faster. We can't stop. Not now.

Selene didn't need the reminder. She had been running for days, her body pushed past its limits, but the hunters were relentless. The Silvercrest Pack had found her trail, and they weren't letting her go.

Selene had spent her life as a rogue, avoiding packs, avoiding alphas, avoiding the laws that would demand she submit. But something had changed. She didn't know how or why, but she had sensed it the moment the hunt began.

They weren't just chasing her. They were hunting her specifically.

She risked a glance behind her. Shadows darted between the trees, their glowing golden eyes piercing the darkness. There were at least five of them, warriors bred for pursuit. And they were closing in.

Nyx, we need a plan.

A cliff. A river. A cave—anything! But the forest offered no escape. The full moon above illuminated everything, making it impossible to hide.

A branch lashed across her cheek, drawing blood, but she didn't stop. The wind carried the scent of her pursuers—five, maybe six wolves, all larger than her, all well-fed and strong. She clenched her teeth.

She wouldn't survive a fight.

A sharp burst of pain shot through her side as she tripped over an exposed root, tumbling down a slope. Her body hit the ground hard, knocking the breath from her lungs. She gasped, rolling onto her back just as the first set of glowing eyes emerged from the darkness above.

They had found her.

Another snap. Closer.

Selene cursed under her breath. There were too many of them. She could take one, maybe two, but not an entire pack of trained enforcers.

A low growl rumbled through the trees.

Her heart leaped into her throat.

Panic flared in her chest, but she forced it down. Think, Selene.

She scrambled to her feet, backing against the base of a massive oak tree. Before she could move, a massive shadow burst through the undergrowth. The force of the attack sent her crashing to the ground. Strong hands pinned her wrists as she struggled, snarling, but she froze the moment she met his eyes.

Dark. Piercing. A shade of midnight blue that seemed to see straight into her soul.

The Alpha.

Her breath hitched. Not just any Alpha.Him.

Alpha Killian.

The cursed Alpha.

She had heard stories of him—the Silvercrest Alpha, ruthless and feared. The stories about him were whispered in every rogue camp, a tale passed down like a warning. A warrior stronger than any other, a predator who never lost a hunt. He was said to be cold,

and ruthless—a man who had never known love and never would. They said he killed without hesitation, that his heart was as cold as the northern winds.

And now, he was staring at her as if she were already dead.

"You've led us on quite the chase," Killian said, his deep voice cutting through the night. "But it ends here." His glowy silver eyes locked onto her, unyielding.

Selene's fists clenched. She knew what this was. Rogues weren't given second chances.

She was about to die.

Or worse—

A scent hit her, familiar and overwhelming.

It crashed into her like a tidal wave, drowning out every other sensation. Her breath hitched, her pulse stuttering as something ancient and primal coiled deep inside her. Her vision blurred, then sharpened, the world tilting as if she had been blind her entire life and was only now seeing.

A force, unseen but undeniable, wrapped around her soul like a tether pulled impossibly tight, yanking her toward him.

No.

It wasn't possible.

Yet, Nyx howled in recognition.

The Alpha above her stiffened, his weight pressing her deeper into the dirt. A flicker of something—shock? Rage?—crossed his face before vanishing beneath a carefully controlled mask. But his grip betrayed him, tightening slightly, as though his body had felt the pull before his mind could deny it.

Selene's blood ran cold.

No. No. No.

Not him. Not the one wolf in the world who could never love his mate.

Killian.

The cursed Alpha. The one whose mate was doomed to die by his hands.

Horror clawed at her chest, suffocating her, but beneath it, something else stirred—something dark and unshakable. A connection, raw and undeniable, wove between them, binding them together in a way neither could fight.

She knew that scent. That power.

She had dreamed of it. Longed for it in the lonely depths of night, never understanding why.

Now she did.

A bond.

His silver eyes darkened, rage simmering beneath their depths. A muscle in his jaw ticked, his entire body going rigid. His wolf felt it too. She could see it—could feel it in the way the air between them charged with something electric and terrifying.

Killian's expression twisted as if he was warring with himself. For a second, just a second, she swore she saw something raw flicker across his face. Fear.

Then it was gone.

"You're coming with me," he said, his voice low, commanding—like a death sentence.

Selene barely had time to process the words before movement surrounded her.

The wolves on the ridge had descended, shifting mid-stride. Within seconds, five men stood before her, their faces hard, their eyes gleaming with ruthless intent.

She was trapped.

But she would not surrender.

Her lips curled back, a snarl ripping from her throat. "Like hell I am."

She lunged.

Before she could even shift, darkness swallowed her whole.