THE ALPHA'S FATED WITCH

CHAPTER 1: The Rotting Stone

Earlene

The wind in the courtyard was biting but I barely felt the cold.

My bare fingers were pressed flat against the jagged surface of the kingdom’s warding stone. It was supposed to be warm. For as long as I could remember, the ancient monolith pulsed with a faint, steady heat.

It was the magic of my father’s bloodline keeping the dark things out in the woods where they belonged.

Today, the stone was freezing.

I dragged my fingertips down the rough, gray surface and frowned. Flakes of rock crumbled away, falling like dead ash onto the snow at the toes of my boots.

It felt exactly like rot. Unnatural, creeping rot. The magic wasn't just fading. It was dying.

I closed my eyes, doing the calculation in my head.

The feral beasts that roamed the woods had been pressing closer to the borders for months. If the stone was already this brittle, the defensive shield over the kingdom would shatter in less than three weeks. Four, if we were lucky.

We were not a lucky kingdom.

"What are you doing out here, girl?"

I opened my eyes and pulled my hand back, hiding the gray dust on my dress.

A palace guard, bundled in a thick fur cloak, glared down at me. He didn't use my title. None of them did. I was the King's illegitimate daughter, the one without a wolf, the one who looked nothing like my golden-haired sisters.

"The warding stone is crumbling," I said, keeping my voice steady. "The magic is failing faster than my father thinks."

The guard let out a harsh laugh, a cloud of white breath puffing into the air. "The King has his advisors for that. He doesn't need you playing scholar in the snow. Get back inside before the Alpha arrives. You're in the way."

He turned and marched off, his heavy boots crunching loudly. But I didn't move. I never listened to them anyway.

I wondered if Eliott knew. My brother was the only one in the royal family who ever bothered to look my way.

He was the heir, the one supposed to inherit this mess, but Eliott wasn't a fighter. He spent his days in the library, pouring over old maps and treaties, trying to find a way out of a war we had already lost.

He was smart. But intelligence couldn't replace a crumbling magical barrier. If Eliott knew how bad the stone really was, he would be sick with worry.

But I couldn't tell him. The King barely listened to his son. And he certainly wouldn't listen to his bastard daughter.

They could ignore me. They could pretend I didn't exist but it wouldn't change the truth. We were going to die and they were all too busy panicking over a visiting Alpha to realize the walls were already falling down around us.

I wrapped my wool shawl tighter around my shoulders.

Inside the main palace, the glass windows glowed with warm yellow light. I could see the shadows of servants rushing back and forth.

My half-sisters were probably in their chambers right now, drowning in expensive silks and imported perfumes. They were being polished like trophies.

My father was desperate. He knew the kingdom was weak, even if he didn't know the stone was days away from turning to dust. That was why he invited him.

The Alpha of the North.

I rubbed the cold ash from my fingers. Even thinking about him made my stomach tighten.

People didn't just speak about Thorne– they whispered his name like a prayer they were afraid would be answered.

He was ruthless, cold and commanded an army that had never lost a single battle. But it wasn't his army that made kings sweat. It was the rumors about his power.

Some said it was a curse. They whispered that he had a dark, unnatural magic that poisoned the ground he walked on and isolated him from everyone.

Others swore it wasn't a curse at all, but the exact reason he held absolute power over all the northern kingdoms.

They said his power was an overwhelming heaviness that forced every supernatural creature to submit to his will.

The rumors claimed his aura was so immense that even other Alpha kings shook and dropped to their knees when he entered a room.

I used to think it was just a story meant to scare children. A myth to keep the borders safe. I looked back at the dying warding stone.

My father thought he could bargain with a man like that. He thought he could offer gold or land to save our borders.

It was a fool's hope. If Thorne wanted our kingdom, he wouldn't ask for it. He would just walk in and take it.

The cold wind picked up, whipping my ashen hair across my face. I should have gone inside. The guard was right, I was just a bastard with no wolf and no power.

If the feral beasts didn't tear us apart, Thorne probably would. But my feet stayed planted in the snow. I was too stubborn. Or maybe just too angry.

For nineteen years, I had been a ghost in my own home. I was fed and clothed, but I was nothing. A stain on the King's reputation. A mistake.

My sisters got the smiles and the suitors, while I got the dusty corridors and the pitying looks from the kitchen staff.

I survived by staying quiet and watching. I saw everything they missed. I saw the weakness in my father's guard. I saw the rotting of the stone.

I reached out to touch the monolith one more time, hoping to feel just a spark of warmth.

A low rumble vibrated through the soles of my boots.

I snatched my hand back. The ground shook. It wasn't an earthquake. It was the synchronized, heavy marching of hundreds of boots, paired with the massive wheels of iron-clad carriages.

The iron gates at the front of the courtyard groaned, the sound slicing through the freezing air.

The palace guards stationed at the walls immediately drew their weapons, but their hands were shaking. I stepped back, pressing my shoulders against the cold surface of the warding stone.

The gates swung wide open.

A line of black warhorses stepped into the courtyard, their breath pluming in the freezing air like smoke.

The soldiers riding them wore dark armor, their faces hidden behind iron helmets. They didn't shout. They didn't announce themselves. They just moved in terrifying silence.

And then, the carriage rolled in.

It was massive, carved from dark wood and reinforced with black steel. The moment its wheels crossed the threshold into the courtyard, the air changed.

It happened so fast I couldn't even gasp. The temperature plummeted. But it wasn't just cold. It was heavy. A crushing pressure dropped out of the sky and slammed into the courtyard.

My chest seized. My lungs refused to expand. It felt like I was drowning on dry land. The rumors were true. It wasn't just a story.

A choked sound broke the silence. I forced my eyes open, my vision swimming.

The palace guard who had yelled at me earlier was on his knees in the snow. His sword was dropped and his hands were clawing at his own throat as he gasped for air.

He wasn't the only one. All around the courtyard, my father's elite soldiers– proud, fully shifted werewolves– were collapsing.

Some fell to their knees, others hit the ground completely, their faces pressed into the freezing mud in forced submission.

The pressure was unnatural. It demanded obedience. It screamed at my instincts to drop, to bow, to make myself as small as possible so the monster in the carriage would spare me.

My knees buckled. I slid down the rough face of the warding stone, the jagged edges tearing at my dress.

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. I was terrified. I had never felt fear like this in my entire life. It was cold, dark, and absolute.

‘Kneel,’ my mind screamed. ‘Just kneel.’

I gritted my teeth. No. I had spent my whole life bowing my head to people who didn't even know my name. I had spent my whole life making myself small. I was not going to fall to my knees in the dirt for him.

My hands scrambled against the stone, finding a deep groove. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the rock. I forced my legs to lock. I pushed back, my boots slipping in the snow, until I was standing upright again.

Every muscle in my body shook violently. I couldn't stop the trembling. The pressure was a weight on my shoulders, trying to crush my spine. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing a breath past my tight lips.

The carriage rolled to a stop.

The heavy pressure didn't lift. If anything, it grew sharper. Focused.

I opened my eyes and stared straight ahead. I was the only one standing in the courtyard. The guards were groveling in the snow, whimpering as their wolves submitted to an Alpha that wasn't even out of his carriage yet.

The dark wooden door of the carriage slowly opened. A booted foot stepped out into the snow.

I couldn't look away. My hands gripped the stone so hard they went numb. The air was so thick I could barely see straight. But I stared anyway.

Let him bring the cold. Let him bring the dark. I was already dying with this kingdom. I wasn't going to die on my knees.