
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 4
Last night, Eva had surrendered herself to the arms of the night in the uncomfortable velvet armchair, sinking into the deepest darkness of sleep, wandering through the most hidden corners of her dreams.
And unbeknownst to her, the wolf outside had already begun to roam through her dreams. The only difference was that now he was closer, and far more feral than before...
This time, the dream she experienced was very different from the ones before it. The dream was so powerful that she felt everything vividly in her body, as if she were living it in that very moment. So much so that she couldn't even control her own breathing.
She was half-naked in a crisp white bed. The muscular man lying over her looked down at her with his amber eyes and smiled. He had wrapped himself around her, caressing every curve of her body.
The reddish-brown hair falling across his handsome face and those amber eyes were absolutely driving her mad. It was him, with those tattooed arms and that roguish gaze. The man from her dreams was touching her with desire.
"You kept me waiting," he growled, his voice dark and husky.
Eva was taken aback. She had never heard his voice in her dreams before. "You can speak," she whispered.
"Yes, my little one, because you came to me," he said in a low voice. "I am much closer to you now!"
He took Eva's parted lips into his mouth. As he consumed her with a shameless groan, his hands suddenly began to roam her body with bold abandon. He pulled away the thin sheet covering her and gazed at Eva's bare body.
Her full, naked breasts lay exposed before him, tipped with small pink peaks. A deep hunger awakened in his eyes. One hand gripped and squeezed her breast, while the other slid between her legs, caressing her inner thighs. Eva had held her breath. He had never been this fierce in her previous dreams. Now, she could feel him at every point on her skin. The man's fingers effortlessly pushed aside the thin fabric of her underwear and made direct contact with the most sensitive spot of her womanhood. The touch was so arousing, so perfectly placed, that Eva's body arched off the bed like a bow. A suppressed, trembling moan spilled from her throat.
The man responded to the sound of this moaning woman with a deep growl of his own. His fingers began moving in firm, circular motions against the sensitive bud of her wet womanhood. His lips traveled along her neck while his palms moved over her nipples. Every touch of the man's was driving Eva to madness, sending electric shocks through her that began at her core and radiated to every part of her body.
Under the man's bold caresses, Eva's legs parted of their own accord, as if in invitation. Fear and desire were mingled together; while her mind was confused, her body had surrendered completely to that man. With the comfort of knowing this was a dream, she offered herself to him with the same hunger.
The man fixed his amber eyes on her and, stroking his hardness, pressed it against her core. Eva was momentarily startled by the firmness pressing against her. Then she remembered that her dreams had never had this level of physical contact before, and with a fleeting fear, she murmured, "No... stop..." but her voice was weak and far from convincing. Her body was saying the exact opposite. Her hips rose toward those relentless fingers, seeking more contact.
The man, with a sly smile on his face, continued to kiss her. His thumb pressed harder against that small, swollen point. His other fingers slid lower, slowly entering her wet core. He was preparing her for his hard masculinity, savoring the sensation of her damp warmth flowing down her thighs.
As Eva writhed with pleasure in the crisp white sheets, she drew a deep breath. Her core was trembling now, the heat rapidly spreading through her body. This uncontrollable physical response filled her with a mixture of shame and intense pleasure.
The man, meanwhile, was consumed by an entirely different kind of hunger, he was searching for a sense of belonging. Like a wild animal, he was claiming his mate.
"There it is, you're soaking wet. You're getting ready for me," he murmured, his voice full of satisfaction. "This is how you show that you belong to me, daughter of Rose..."
Eva was completely undone now, her core pulsing like a heartbeat. Sensing that she was ready, the man stroked his hardness and, in one swift, merciless motion, braced himself against the headboard and rose above her. Eva watched the man's muscular form through bitten lips, watching his rhythmic movements inside her. With hard, driving strokes, he was filling Eva's tight, wet womanhood.
Eva's mouth opened in a cry, but the sound lodged in her throat. She was burning inside, stretching, and filled impossibly with the maddening pressure of his considerable hardness. Eva had surrendered completely now, and in this state of wild passion, she moaned with pleasure as she dragged her nails across the man's muscular back.
As the man's hard rhythm quickened, Eva's body matched his pace. Her hips were meeting the bed with each thrust, her entire body slick with sweat. Finally, the pressure building inside her became unbearable.
"Please..." she moaned, no longer certain what she was begging for. For him to stop, or to keep going?
But the man's answer was to go deeper, to go faster. His hardness was intensifying its rhythm. And then... the contractions exploded suddenly, violently. Eva felt as though every part of her body had reached its limit at the same moment. The orgasm in her core pulsed like a heartbeat.
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The sound that tore from her throat as she came plunged her into deep shame.
But she hadn't been able to stop herself...
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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.