The Alpha's Rejected Mate

Chapter 9: The Hunger's Price

The hunger woke me before dawn.

It started as a whisper, a faint pull in the depths of my stomach. But within moments, it grew into a roar, demanding, consuming, drowning out every thought I had. I curled into a ball on the bed, my nails digging into my arms, trying to anchor myself to something real.

But nothing felt real anymore.

The room spun. Shadows danced at the edges of my vision, taking shapes that shouldn't exist. Faces I'd never seen but somehow recognized. The witch's memories. Her victims. Her rage.

"Lyra!"

Damon's voice cut through the chaos. I felt his hands on my shoulders, warm and solid, but for a terrifying moment, I saw them as something else. Meat. Bone. Food.

I shoved him away.

"Don't touch me!" I screamed, scrambling backward until my back hit the wall. "Stay away from me!"

He froze, hurt flashing across his face before he masked it. "You were screaming. The whole pack heard you."

I wrapped my arms around my knees, shaking. "I... I saw things. She showed me things."

"Who?" He approached slowly, like one would approach a wounded animal. "The witch?"

I nodded, unable to speak. The hunger was receding, but only slightly. It was still there, coiled and waiting.

Damon sat on the edge of the bed, keeping distance between us. "Tell me what you saw."

"Death," I whispered. "So much death. She killed hundreds. Maybe thousands. To maintain her power. To stay alive." My voice broke. "And she'll do it again. Through me."

"No." His voice was steel. "She won't. Because we're going to stop her."

"How?" I laughed bitterly. "Elena said the bond has to be severed. That's the only way."

"Then Elena is wrong." He stood, pacing the room like a caged wolf. "There has to be another way. There's always another way."

"You're being reckless."

"I'm being your mate," he snapped, turning to face me. "Do you think I care about odds? About logic? About anything except keeping you alive?"

The bond pulsed between us, and for a moment, the hunger flared in response. I gasped, clutching my chest.

"Lyra?" Damon was at my side instantly. "What's happening?"

"It's... reacting to the bond," I managed. "The stronger the bond, the stronger she gets."

His face went pale. "Then we weaken it."

"No!" I grabbed his arm before I could stop myself. The contact sent electricity through both of us. "I don't want to lose you. Not like this. Not at all."

His eyes softened. He turned his hand, lacing his fingers through mine. "You won't lose me. No matter what happens, I'm not going anywhere."

"But what if I hurt you?" The fear was real. Primal. "What if I can't control it?"

"Then I'll hold you until you do." He pulled me into his arms, and I didn't resist. I couldn't. The warmth of him was the only thing keeping the darkness at bay. "We face this together. That's what mates do."

I buried my face in his chest, breathing in his scent. Cedar. Iron. Home.

For a moment, the hunger was silent.

---

Breakfast was a nightmare.

The dining hall was filled with pack members, all of them staring as we entered. Some with curiosity. Some with fear. Most with suspicion.

I kept my eyes on my plate, pushing food around without eating. The hunger wasn't for food. It was for power. For energy. For life itself.

"She looks different," someone whispered.

"Did you see her eyes?"

"I heard she's possessed."

"Shouldn't the Alpha lock her up?"

Each word was a knife. I wanted to scream at them. To make them understand I wasn't a monster. Not yet.

Damon's hand found mine under the table, squeezing tightly. A silent reminder. *I'm here. You're not alone.*

Elena approached, carrying a stack of ancient scrolls. "I've been researching through the night," she said, her voice low. "There might be something. A ritual mentioned in the old texts. The Separation of Souls."

My heart leapt. "It can separate the witch from me?"

"Potentially." She hesitated. "But it requires three things. And one of them..." She looked at Damon. "One of them is the blood of the one who cast the original curse."

Silence.

"Marcus," I said quietly. Sarah's father. The Alpha of Silvermoon. The man who started all of this.

Damon's jaw tightened. "He's been in hiding since the battle. We don't know where."

"Then we find him," I said.

"Lyra—"

"We find him," I repeated, firmer this time. "He's the key. If we need his blood, we get it. However we have to."

Elena studied me, her expression unreadable. "There's more. The ritual also requires a location of power. Somewhere the veil between worlds is thin. And it must be performed during the next blood moon."

"When is that?" Damon asked.

"Three weeks," Elena said. "Not much time."

Three weeks. Twenty-one days to find a hidden Alpha, infiltrate his stronghold, extract his blood, and perform a ritual that might not even work.

I looked down at my hands. The black veins had spread further, now visible even through my sleeves.

"We don't have a choice," I said. "It's this or... or whatever happens when she fully wakes up."

Damon stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the stone floor. "Then we start hunting."

---

The training grounds were empty when we arrived. Damon had insisted I practice controlling the power inside me. "If you can learn to channel it," he'd said, "maybe you can fight her influence."

I stood in the center of the clearing, my hands outstretched. "I don't even know where to start."

"Close your eyes," Damon instructed. "Feel the energy. Don't fight it. Guide it."

I closed my eyes. The hunger was there, always there, but beneath it was something else. A current. A flow of power waiting to be directed.

I reached for it.

The world exploded.

My eyes snapped open, and I was no longer in the training grounds. I was somewhere else. Somewhere dark. Ancient. A temple made of black stone, lit by torches that burned with blue flame.

A woman stood before me. Beautiful. Terrifying. Her eyes were mine.

*"You're stronger than I expected,"* she said, her voice echoing from everywhere and nowhere. *"Good. I hate weak vessels."*

"Who are you?" I demanded.

*"Selene,"* she said simply. *"The witch. The curse. The power that runs through your veins now. We are one, you and I. Fighting is pointless."*

"I'm not you," I spat. "I'm Lyra. And I'm going to get rid of you."

She laughed, a sound that chilled my blood. *"You can try, little wolf. But every time you use my power, you become more like me. Every time you give in to the hunger, the bond between us grows stronger. How long before you can't tell where you end and I begin?"*

The vision shattered.

I was back in the training grounds, on my knees, gasping for air. Damon was crouched beside me, his face pale with worry.

"Lyra! What happened?"

"I... I saw her." My voice was shaking. "She talked to me. Inside my head."

His hands gripped my shoulders. "What did she say?"

"That I'm becoming her." I looked up at him, tears streaming down my face. "Damon, what if she's right? What if every time I use this power, I lose a piece of myself?"

He pulled me into his arms, holding me tight. "Then we find another way. We don't use her power. We find a different path."

"But there might not be one."

"Then I'll make one." His voice was fierce. Unyielding. "I don't care what it takes. I'll tear apart the world itself before I let her take you."

The bond pulsed between us, warm and golden. And for the first time since the grimoire was opened, the hunger retreated completely.

But I knew it was temporary.

Selene was patient. She had waited centuries for a vessel. She could wait a few more weeks.

And when she struck, I wasn't sure I'd be strong enough to stop her.

---

That night, I dreamt of fire.

Of cities burning. Of wolves screaming. Of a woman with my face standing atop a mountain of bones, laughing as the world burned around her.

And when I woke, the black veins had reached my neck.

Time was running out.

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💬 **READER'S CORNER**

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**Can Lyra resist the witch's influence?**

**Will they find Marcus in time?**

**Share your predictions below!** 👇

**— Haider Al-Hashimi*