ALPHA'S WITCH (Midnight Oath)
Content: (Warning! + 18 Sexual elements, Alpha Wolf, Witch, Cursed Love, Small Town, Young Wolf, War, Age Gap, Passion, Consensual Fantasy, Psychological Elements, Strong Female Lead, Drama, Romance)
Bound by blood, sealed by magic. You have finally come, Rose's daughter...
Eva Rose is the last and most powerful heir of a sacred witch bloodline.
Kael is a cursed Crimson Alpha King.
Centuries ago, on the night they discovered they were fated mates and were about to be married, their enemies attacked to destroy them both. To save Kael, Eva made a desperate choice , she trapped him in a magical sleep for 200 years. The price was her own life.
But their love was so powerful that Eva did not truly die , she was reborn. Through her own bloodline, she returned to the world as the same woman, with the same soul, the same heart.
Now, who is friend and who is enemy? And why does this man feel so strangely familiar? How can you escape someone who even visits your dreams?. 📌📚🔥
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Chapter 2
When I arrived at the mountain house, my anger melted away instantly.
The magical place I remembered from my childhood... but it had aged over the years.
The key was still in the same place: under the flowerpot in front of the window. I pushed open the heavy wooden door with trembling hands. The silence of years crashed down on me.
"Grandma," I called out to the empty house. "You really left me an old, dusty mountain cabin. How did you expect me to celebrate Christmas here?"
It looked daunting, but I had to start somewhere. I rolled up my sleeves and got to work.
I swept and wiped for hours. My hands ached, and my back was killing me. But the house was slowly beginning to remember itself.
By the time I finished, the sun was just beginning to set behind the mountains. I remembered I needed to bring in the kitchen supplies.
It took three trips to bring everything inside. As I set down the last box, my phone rang. Maya.
"Eva! Oh God, you finally picked up! Are you okay?"
I flopped onto the old velvet couch. "I'm still standing. Haven't collapsed yet."
But she was worried. "Don't put on an act. How are you really?"
I was about to put on my mask. Then I thought about my loneliness and everything I had been through this week. I chose to be honest.
"Ugh, fine... This place is a madhouse, Maya. The people here have genuinely lost their minds. They refused to sell me food. I had to drive to a town an hour away."
"What? Eva, that's insane! If they're treating you like that, why are you still there?"
"I made a promise to my grandmother," I said, my voice softening. "I'm spending Christmas here."
There was a brief silence. Maya didn't want to upset me, but she was worried about me being there.
"Eva... you gave her a beautiful funeral. Don't you think you've done enough? You can come home. You can even come to me. You don't have to torture yourself in those freezing mountains."
I closed my eyes. My grandmother's wise, loving gaze came to mind. In that moment, everything made sense.
"She wanted to spend her last Christmas here. Especially here, with me. I made her a promise, Maya. It will be good for both of us. I'll rest for a few weeks, then I'll come back."
"Alright," Maya said helplessly. "But Eva, please don't forget your vitamins. You hate the cold. I'm worried you're going to get sick."
I laughed. "If you keep talking like this, I'll freeze stiff on this couch. I need to get firewood. I need to light the fireplace."
"Okay, okay! I'll let you have your alone time, but show signs of life every now and then."
"Deal. Talk later, Maya."
I hung up quickly.
I put my coat on and went outside. The sun had nearly disappeared. The woodshed was about twenty meters from the house.
I opened its creaky door and grabbed an armful of firewood. I loaded my arms so full I could barely see in front of me.
I started walking toward the house. My ash-blonde hair was whipping in the wind. Since I couldn't see ahead, I turned my head sideways as I walked.
And then I saw it.
At first I thought it was an illusion. But it was there.
At the entrance to the forest path... about ten meters away... stood a massive wolf.
A wolf? It was far too large for a wolf. It was literally the size of a bear. Its reddish-brown fur gleamed in the fading daylight. But what truly froze me were those eyes.
Burning amber eyes. So different from any wild animal. Intelligent. Aware. Staring straight into my eyes with a piercing gaze.
I flinched at the image that suddenly flared to life in my mind. These were the eyes I had seen in my dreams since childhood. Those familiar, warm, longing eyes. As the years passed and I grew older, those dreams had transformed into darker, more passionate fantasies. A muscular, attractive man.
Now, how could a wolf have those eyes? God, I thought my brain was playing tricks on me.
When I stepped back in fear, my foot slipped on the ice.
The firewood in my arms scattered onto the snow with a crash. I fell flat on my back. My breath was knocked out of me.
I pulled myself together. When I turned my head in that direction, it was gone.
I rubbed my eyes. I looked again. The path was completely empty. There were only trees, snow, and silence.
"What is happening..." I whispered, trembling.
I couldn't stay out there any longer. I jumped to my feet, grabbed a long piece of firewood to protect myself, and frantically scanned my surroundings. Nothing. No tracks, no shadow, no movement.
Did I imagine it? Is this PTSD? Or am I losing my mind?
I quickly gathered the scattered firewood, glancing over my shoulder every second. Then I ran for the house.
The moment I stepped inside, I slammed the door shut and locked it.
I lit the fireplace with shaking hands. Once the fire finally caught, I calmed down a little in its warmth. Sometimes people who have experienced psychological trauma can have hallucinations. Maybe that was what had just happened.
I hadn't had coffee in days. As a caffeine addict, I hadn't even thought about it during the grieving process. I went to the kitchen and made a strong, dark cup of coffee. I sat down on the floor in front of the fire and began to sip it in the silence.
Then the wolf came back to my mind.
"Even if it was real... it's just a wolf. A very large wolf. Perfectly normal for the mountains... right?"
I had experienced quite enough action for one day. I just wanted to rest. But the universe chose to surprise me again.
Suddenly, there was a clicking sound at the door.
I nearly spilled my coffee in fright. Who would be knocking on my door at this hour? On top of a mountain? In the middle of nowhere?
The worst-case scenarios immediately began spinning through my mind. The townspeople? Or had that giant wolf learned to knock?
I rose to my feet, heart pounding. I went to the window and looked outside through the frosted glass.
On the veranda stood a young woman about my age. Her curly red hair was braided in two plaits, she had freckles on her cheeks, and her face wore a warm, reassuring smile.
Cautiously, I opened the door a crack.
"Yes... how can I help you?"
Her smile widened. "Hi! I'm Eleanor!"
I just stared for a moment. Then she laughed. "Oh, sorry! You don't remember me. I'm Elly!"
I frowned. My brain was running slowly from exhaustion. Then a memory materialized before my eyes. A girl with mud all over her face, laughing, gap-toothed, hair a mess. We used to play together as children.
"Elly?!" I exclaimed in shock. "I can't believe it! Mud-pie Elly?!"
"That's me!" she squealed with delight.
I threw the door wide open and hugged her.
"Welcome back!" she said, her eyes shining. "I heard you'd returned to town. I figured you might be missing a few things your first night, so I came to see you right away. I thought I might be able to help."
This was genuinely the best thing that had happened to me today. A familiar face. A face that still cared for me.
"Come in!" I said. "It's absolutely freezing out there."
She smiled and stepped right inside. She walked toward the warm glow of the fire, rubbing her hands together. Then she looked at me with a tender expression in her eyes.
"I still can't believe you're here," she said.
I was so excited. "Me neither. I'm so glad to see you right now."
In this cursed little town, I had finally found something that would let me breathe a little...
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9.4
I thought the Burch family gave me a loving home when they took me out of the orphanage.
But when the global deep freeze apocalypse hit, my adoptive parents mercilessly kicked me out of the bunker to freeze to death.
As I lay dying in the snow, covered in horrific purple frostbite, my adoptive sister Kendal walked past me in a pristine designer jacket.
Around her neck was my only childhood possession—an antique gold necklace my adoptive mother had ripped off my neck to give to her.
Kendal gloated, bragging that my pendant held a magical space with infinite supplies and fresh food while the rest of the world starved.
I realized I had spent years emptying my life savings to fund their luxury cars and fake medical emergencies.
They had drained my bank accounts, stolen my bloodline's heirloom, and used my magical lifeline to live like royalty while leaving me to die.
I took my last ragged breath in that blinding blizzard, consumed by a toxic hatred.
Why was I so hopelessly weak? Why did I let them take everything from me?
Opening my eyes again, the painful frostbite scars were gone. My skin was warm.
I grabbed my phone. The screen lit up: November 12.
It was exactly three days before the world ended.
When my adoptive mother called, faking a tearful emergency to demand another thirty thousand dollars, I smiled coldly.
"Just tell me where to send the money, Mom."
This time, I'm taking my space back, and I'm going to drain them dry.
7.2
Elara Vex had everything-a flawless ice core, the title of prodigy, and a place at the pinnacle of the High Tower. But in one brutal night, it was all ripped away. Her mentor tore the core from her chest. Her fiancé drove a sword through her back. Her own sister smiled as she bled out on the cold marble floor.
When Elara wakes, she's years in the past, mere hours before her core is scheduled to be stolen. This time, she won't be anyone's sacrificial lamb. She shatters her own core with forbidden blood magic and forges something far more terrifying in its place-a bottomless, ravenous Chaos Core that devours magic itself.
Now, branded a worthless cripple and cast into the deadly Abyss, Elara is pulled from the darkness by the outcasts of Elysium Academy-a school for heretics, psychopaths, and everything the Tower despises. Under the tutelage of a reclusive principal who knew her murdered mother, Elara will master her forbidden power and uncover the Tower's darkest secrets.
When the Five Academies Ranking Tournament arrives, Seraphina Vex stands in the arena, draped in white saintess robes, ready to claim ultimate glory. She doesn't know that a ghost from her past has clawed her way back from hell. She doesn't know that Elara is coming-and this time, the prodigal sister isn't asking for mercy. She's bringing chaos.
8.9
Just hours after I endured a grueling labor to give Kaelen, my fated mate and the Alpha, two beautiful twins, he walked into the infirmary.
Instead of holding our newborns, his Alpha aura pinned me to the bed as he coldly announced, "I reject you as my mate."
He claimed I reeked of another Alpha. His sister Vanessa threw a stack of photos at my face, showing me at a cafe with a broad-shouldered man. Before I could even explain, Kaelen forced a pen into my trembling hand while I was still bleeding, making me sign away my parental rights. His mother then snatched my newborn son Liam from the crib.
"Take the girl and get out of my territory," Kaelen commanded, leaving me in the freezing room with my severed mate-bond and my crying daughter.
I didn't understand how our sacred bond could be shattered by a single fake photo, or how my fated mate could be so blind and ruthless as to rip my baby from my arms.
Five years later, his precious heir is dying, and Kaelen desperately needs an alliance and a bone marrow donor. But when he finally sees me at a high-society gala, he doesn't find a broken, exiled Omega.
He finds me standing beside that very same "lover"—Dominic, the Alpha of the Silverwood Pack, my older brother. And this time, I am the one holding the blade.
9.0
I traded my innocence to my fated mate, the Alpha King, just to get a stalk of Moonlight Grass to save my dying brother.
But after a night of agonizing physical connection, he didn't mark me. Instead, he tossed me a single, useless dried leaf and a credit card, treating our sacred bond like a cheap transaction.
When I refused his insulting offer to be his secret, nameless mistress, he choked me against a wall and banished me from his lands forever. I fled to the human city, only to watch from the shadows a week later as he publicly escorted a pure-blood noble female, preparing to make her his Luna. Meanwhile, I was forced to sell herbs in the lawless black market just to survive, where I was cornered by a gang of violent rogues.
I didn't understand. We were chosen by the Moon Goddess. When our skin touched, the mating sparks nearly blinded us both. Why did he look at me with such cold disgust? Why did he throw me away like trash, only to parade another woman as his queen?
Running for my life from the rogues, I tripped and fell onto the asphalt, right at the feet of a convoy of black SUVs.
The man stepping out was the Alpha King who had sworn to kill me if he ever saw me again.
But as the rogues demanded I be handed over, his eyes darkened with a terrifying, primal fury.
"She's mine."
7.4
The house was a living inferno, the heat devouring the air in my lungs as I clutched my five-year-old daughter to my chest. Emily was dead weight, her skin already cooling even as the room turned into a furnace of orange and black.
Through the stinging smoke, I saw my husband, Kenney, crawling toward the door with a wet handkerchief pressed to his face. He didn't look back at the crib, and he didn't call my name; he was simply leaving us to burn.
I lunged forward and grabbed his ankle, my nightgown catching fire, but he didn't reach down to save me. He recoiled in horror at the sight of my burning hair and our dead child, kicking me back with a panicked shriek.
"Let go!" he shrieked.
I died as a massive, flaming timber snapped from the ceiling and crushed us both into silence. I couldn't believe that the man I loved would leave his family to die just to save his own skin, but the rage I felt was colder than the death that followed.
But then the burning stopped instantly, replaced by a cold so sharp it made my teeth ache. I gasped, jerking upright in my bed to find the velvet duvet cool under my palms and the nursery quiet, with Emily still breathing softly in her crib.
I had returned to the winter morning two years before the fire, the exact day Kenney finalized the deal to sell me to the King for a promotion. As Kenney stepped into the room with a practiced mask of concern, I realized I was no longer the victim of this story.
"A nightmare, my love?" he asked, reaching out to touch my shoulder.
I flinched away, my eyes burning with a hatred he couldn't yet understand. Tonight was the Winter Masquerade, the night he planned to offer me to the King as a prize, but this time, I was going to turn his social ladder into a gallows.
7.4
Bridget, a ruthless twenty-first-century Wall Street analyst, woke up violently coughing up murky lake water in a decaying 1978 slum.
She quickly realized she was trapped in the body of a naive, marginalized teenager who had just committed suicide over a boy's cruel rejection.
The original girl had been mercilessly bullied by a fake rich kid named Kurtis and his cruel followers. They had publicly read her desperate love letters out loud, mocking her as a toad trying to eat swan meat, and simply watched as she threw herself into the freezing water. Now, her impoverished mother was left weeping by the bed, facing catastrophic debt and total social ruin in their small town. Everyone expected the surviving girl to wake up begging and crying for the boy who humiliated her.
Instead, a cold, calculating fury took over Bridget's analytical mind.
"I already died in that lake. That stupid girl is never coming back."
How could anyone throw their life away for a pathetic, vain clown wearing a mass-produced fifty-dollar watch? To Bridget, those uncollected love letters weren't symbols of teenage heartbreak. They were toxic assets. They were reputation landmines left out in the open that threatened her new family's survival.
Locking away the dead girl's weak emotions, Bridget forced her freezing, exhausted body out of the clinic bed. She set a hard three-month deadline to drag this family out of tier-one poverty. But first, she was marching straight to the volunteer camp to liquidate those liabilities and completely destroy the people who drove this body to death.