Fated Mate to the Cursed Alpha Don (18+)

Adrian Valenti had learned to fear the moon. Not the gentle crescent that hung above Naples on calm nights, nor the soft glow that spilled across the shoreline like a blessing. No — he feared the blood moon, the ancestral curse that came for every Valenti heir without mercy. Tonight, as the sky bruised red and the air thickened with the scent of iron, Adrian felt the familiar tremor building deep inside his bones. A warning. A countdown. The monster waking. He gripped the marble balustrade of his father’s old office, the one he now occupied as Don of the Valenti Mafia. The city lights flickered below, indifferent to the storm raging through him. Behind him, the heavy double doors clicked open. “Adrian,” Lorenzo, his consigliere, said quietly. “It’s starting early.” Adrian’s jaw flexed. Sweat rolled down his spine despite the cool air. “I know.” “You shouldn’t be alone.” He turned then — slowly, deliberately — because sudden movements made his wolf surge faster. His irises darkened to a molten amber, the first sign the curse was taking hold. Lorenzo, to his credit, didn’t flinch. “I must be alone,” Adrian said. “You’ve seen what happens when I’m not.” He didn’t need to elaborate. They both remembered the night he had nearly torn through two of his own guards. The beast didn’t distinguish loyalty. It obeyed only instinct — hunger, protection, dominance. It terrified Adrian how little of himself remained once the transformation took over. Lorenzo approached cautiously, a thick leather satchel in hand. “Then at least take this.” Inside were restraints reinforced with silver-steel alloy — the only thing that could hold an Alpha under a cursed shift. Adrian hated them. Hated what they meant. But he said nothing as Lorenzo set them on the desk. “It’s getting worse,” Lorenzo added, lowering his voice. “The shifts are accelerating. Stronger. More violent.” Adrian’s breath hitched. “Tell me something I don’t know.” Lorenzo hesitated — and that worried him more than the pain crawling beneath his skin. “There is something else,” Lorenzo finally said. “Something you’ve avoided discussing.” Adrian forced the words through clenched teeth. “Say it.” “The prophecy your father believed in.” Adrian stiffened. The wolf inside him stirred in response to the spike of emotion. “He died believing a savior existed,” Lorenzo continued. “Someone with the Moonblood gene. Someone strong enough to stabilize the curse.” “Moonblood is a myth,” Adrian growled. “A fairytale for dying Alphas.” “Maybe. Maybe not.” Lorenzo reached into the satchel again and placed a file on the desk. “But I found her.” Adrian’s vision blurred — from the growing shift or the shock, he wasn’t sure. “Her?” he repeated harshly, unable to disguise the snarl in his voice. “The last known carrier of the Moonblood line.” Lorenzo slid the file toward him. “Her name is Calla Ricci.” The name cut through the haze of pain like a blade. Short, clean, unfamiliar — yet power hummed through it. He didn’t open the file. Couldn’t. The room was spinning now, the curse clawing at his ribs with jagged hands. “I don’t need a mythical woman,” Adrian said through gritted teeth. “I need control.” “And you don’t have it.” The truth landed heavy between them. Lorenzo’s tone softened, but urgency sharpened every word. “Adrian, you cannot lead the Valenti Clan like this. You cannot hide this much longer. If the other mafia houses catch even a whisper that their Don loses control under the moon—” “They will try to kill me,” Adrian finished. Not try. They would succeed. He stumbled as the pain twisted, forcing him to grab the edge of the desk. His nails lengthened—just a fraction, just enough to tear grooves into the mahogany. Lorenzo moved toward him. “You need her.” “I need no one,” Adrian snapped, but his voice was already deepening, vibrating with the beast inside. “Then tell me how you survive next month,” Lorenzo shot back. “Or the one after. You barely made it through the last shift, and we both know it.” Adrian closed his eyes. The memories came unbidden: the screaming, the breaking furniture, the taste of blood in his mouth that wasn’t his. The shame of waking up naked, trembling, covered in claw marks he didn’t remember inflicting. He was a Don — feared, respected, obeyed. But he was also a cursed Alpha — tortured, breaking, hunted by his own nature. The moon outside bled deeper red. Something in Adrian’s chest cracked — not bone, but resolve. “What do you know about her?” he asked, voice hoarse. Lorenzo exhaled, relieved. “Calla Ricci. Corporate lawyer. Unmatched win record. Brilliant. Precise. Dangerous when cornered.” A pause. “And she has no idea what she carries in her blood.” Of course she didn’t. How could any human know she possessed a lineage designed to calm cursed Alpha heirs? Another wave of agony seized him. His knees hit the ground. “Adrian!” Lorenzo moved forward, but Adrian roared — the sound inhuman, a warning. “Get out,” he forced out. “You won’t survive this alone.” “I said — get out!” Lorenzo hesitated one second too long. Adrian’s head snapped up, eyes fully golden now, pupils slit like a predator’s. His fangs were beginning to pierce his gums, blood dripping down his lip. The wolf was taking him piece by piece. Lorenzo took a sharp step back. “I’ll prepare arrangements,” he said quickly. “She’s our only hope.” “No,” Adrian snarled. “She will not be dragged into this world.” “You don’t have a choice.” “I will not mark an innocent woman with my curse.” “But you may die without her.” Adrian bared his teeth. “Then so be it.” The room vibrated with the force of his roar. Lorenzo fled, slamming the door behind him. Alone now, Adrian staggered to the center of the room, chest heaving. The blood moon’s glow filtered through the windows, coating him in crimson. The curse surged. His spine arched unnaturally. Muscles tore and reformed. Bones crackled like breaking glass. His hand slammed into the wall, claws punching through plaster. He fought it. Fought harder than he ever had. Control. Control. He repeated the mantra even as the wolf shredded through him. But there was no stopping destiny. No denying the bloodline. No outrunning what waited for him each month. The last thing he saw before the shift consumed him was the file on his desk — Calla Ricci’s name glowing faintly under the moonlight. And somewhere, beyond the red haze clouding his mind, a single thought pierced through: Find her. Before the curse kills you. Adrian let out a final, guttural scream as the beast took over completely, shattering the room with its rage. Outside, the moon rose higher. Inside, the new Alpha Don fell to the curse he was never meant to survive alone.