The Vampire Princess and the mate curse

Chapter 1

-PIPPA-

"How are the new students doing?" my mom asked as she walked up beside me on the training grounds.

The spring air was warm, carrying the scent of fresh grass and blooming flowers. We were on the north side of the academy—a place where supernaturals of all kinds come to learn how to fight. My mom created this place not long after leaving the Silver Moon pack to be with my dad.

She used to be the general of her pack, an incredible warrior, but everything changed when she and my father got together. He’s not just any vampire—he’s the King of them all. My mom’s a hybrid, part vampire, part lycan. They’re mates, totally in love, and honestly, it’s way more PDA than any daughter should have to witness.

I glanced over before answering. She wore one of her usual leather fighting suits—tight, sleek, built for combat. Hers was brown, mine was black. Even though she’s 40, she looks like she could be my sister. The vampire genes help with that. She refuses to drink blood, though—except for my dad’s, which keeps them both from aging.

I wasn’t a big fan of my vampire side either. I’ve managed to avoid feeding like other vampires do, surviving on blood packs from the fridge whenever the thirst gets unbearable. Not ideal, but better than the alternative.

"Not bad. Most of them have some experience. Only a few are completely green," I said, shifting my gaze back to the field where the new recruits were paired up, practicing jabs and blocks.

My mom’s sharp blue eyes scanned the group, then narrowed slightly. "Like that girl over there," she muttered, nodding toward a petite young woman with dark olive skin and tight curls framing her delicate face. She moved well, graceful, but definitely not trained. "Lamia, right? What’s her story?"

More often than not, people who lack fighting skills carry some sort of baggage—whether it was a rough past, an abusive family, or even a drastic life change.

"She just said she’s always wanted to learn. She seems nice." I glanced back at Lamia, who was grinning at her partner. The guy blushed and scratched his neck, clearly caught up in her presence. "I need to swap partners if I want them to actually progress."

I had no issue with a little flirting, but I was here to train fighters, not run a dating service.

I love my job. I practically grew up on these training grounds—I took my first steps here, trained here, and now I teach here. My mom passed down everything she knew, and my dad, a skilled fighter, helped out too. Funny enough, before they got together, they were enemies, fighting on opposite sides of the battlefield. She knew he was her mate, but he didn’t—and she never told him.

After a brutal heartbreak, my dad cursed himself to never feel the mating bond again. And it worked—for 500 years. But fate had other plans. One day, he and my mom got trapped in a cave together and, well… things happened. The curse broke.

They thought that was the end of it. But nope. The universe had one more twist up its sleeve. When I turned 18 and got my lycan, I knew something was off. It was like there was this veil dulling my senses. Turns out, my parents only managed to break the curse for my dad. He passed it onto me.

So now, I get to live my life without the hope of finding my mate. Sure, I could try to break the curse, but honestly? I’m not interested.

"How do you want to celebrate your birthday next week?" my mom asked, reaching over to fix my long braid, snapping me out of my thoughts about mates and curses.

"I don’t know… Maybe just a quiet dinner at home with you and Dad," I said with a shrug, though part of me knew my answer wasn’t exactly satisfying. We were lucky to have Elisa, our personal chef and culinary genius. Really, her food could put Michelin-star restaurants to shame.

"But 21 is a big deal. You should celebrate, at least with your friends. What if we invited the twins to dinner too?" My mom’s voice carried that familiar warmth, but there was a hint of insistence. She meant Dawn and Helios.

Their parents were the Alpha and Luna of the Silver Moon pack—the place my mom once called home. Dawn and Helios were two years older than me, but they weren’t just friends. They were family.

Well, Dawn was family.

Helios? That was more complicated.

I had a massive, undeniable crush on him.

Who wouldn’t? He was tall, built like a warrior, with blond hair, golden skin, and those ridiculous blue-green eyes that seemed to pull people in without even trying. On top of that, he was funny, smart, fiercely loyal—and, of course, absurdly good-looking.

A part of me wondered—hoped—he might be my mate. Maybe one day, we'd end up together like my parents did, and the curse would finally break.

But deep down, I knew that wasn’t the real issue. If Helios were my mate, he would have sensed it the moment I turned 18.

And he didn’t.

He still saw me as a friend, nothing more. Sometimes, I thought I caught something in his eyes, the tiniest flicker of something deeper. But it was always gone before I could be sure. Maybe just a trick of the light. Or worse, a reflection of my own feelings.

But the truth was, I didn’t just like Helios. I was in love with him. And that’s exactly why I refused to break the curse just to end up with someone else.

"Pippa?" My mom’s voice pulled me back to reality. She was still waiting.

"Hm?" I stared down at my boots, hoping she wouldn’t notice the heat rising to my face. "No, just us three. Maybe I’ll meet my friends at the club later. First time going without that ‘underage’ stamp on my wrist. I'll meet the twins today for dinner after work and invite them."

"Okay, I’ll let your father know," she said, spinning on her heels and heading toward the building. "Meet me for lunch. And don’t even think about skipping a meal!" she called over her shoulder before vanishing inside.

It wasn’t a request—it was an order. And with every passing year, she was becoming more like my dad.

I exhaled sharply and turned back to my students. Moving between them, I gave instructions, corrected positions, and demonstrated techniques. For a few of them—like Lamia—I suggested extra one-on-one lessons. They needed the additional push if they were going to improve quickly.

The day passed smoothly. My mom made me eat the chicken stir-fry from the cafeteria, which was not the best but edible. She says I'm too tall to eat so little. I'm not. I'm 5 feet 11 inches, an average height for a Lycan. And it's not my fault that I'm rarely hungry.

By the time the day wrapped up, I was exhausted, but I still lingered after the students and other teachers had left. There are nights when I even crash at the academy—a small room I use from time to time—but tonight was different. I had plans with my friends. Before heading out, I tried to catch up with some tedious paperwork I’d kept avoiding for way too long. Once that was finally done, I sent a quick text to Helios and Dawn, letting them know I was leaving.

As I crossed the gate, I gave a nod to Jordan, the night guard, and made my way to the parking lot. That’s when it hit—the weirdest sensation on the back of my neck.

I glanced around, just to make sure nobody was lurking. Nada. But the feeling didn’t fade.

I shook off the lingering unease and climbed into my car, trying to focus on the road ahead. The twins were waiting, and I was already late—I didn’t need any more distractions. The night air was crisp, the hum of my engine steady, but that strange sensation still clung to my nape like a shadow I couldn’t shake.

A mile in, the road narrowed, and I found myself stuck behind a sluggish maintenance van hogging the left lane. The damn thing was crawling, refusing to let me pass, like its driver was deliberately trying to ruin my night. My fingers tightened around the steering wheel, irritation bubbling beneath my skin. I flashed my lights, and nothing. It was like they were waiting for something.

And then it happened.

Without warning, the van slammed on its brakes, its tires screeching against the pavement. My heart lurched as instinct kicked in—I yanked the wheel to the right, aiming for escape—but before I could react, another car came out of nowhere, cutting me off and smashing into my passenger side with brutal force. Metal crunched, glass shattered, and the world spun as my car skidded before coming to a jarring stop.

I gasped, my chest tight against the airbag, the sharp scent of burning rubber filling my lungs. Dazed, I struggled to process what had just happened. My vision swam, but I caught the movement of a figure outside. My door wrenched open, and before I could react, a hand shot forward.

Then I saw it.

A syringe.

Its needle gleamed under the dim glow of the streetlights, filled with a swirling purple liquid.

Before I could fight back, before I could even register the danger fully, the needle pressed into my skin.

Darkness swallowed me whole.