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 5
In this moment of pleasure, the man who had released himself forcefully into the depths of her womanhood shamelessly wet his fingers with the moisture flowing from Eva's inner thighs and caressed her womanhood again and again. Now every spasm, every tremor felt more intense than before. His eyes were fixed on his woman, his mischievous, roguish gaze recording the satisfied expression on Eva's face.
Eva had gone completely rigid with the force of her orgasm, left almost breathless. She could feel the wetness flowing from between her legs down her thighs.
The man withdrew from her in one sudden motion, and Eva arched like a bow, feeling a large, warm, quivering emptiness inside her.
The man leaned down, his lips brushing Eva's sweat-dampened ear.
"That was only the beginning," he whispered. "The seal is awakening, and I am coming for you, daughter of Rose..."
As the voice echoed in her ears, a chill swept across her skin. Then the image before her eyes suddenly shattered. Eva opened her eyes alone in the mountain cabin, her core still trembling. Her breath had been cut short, her heart pounding in her chest.
Her pajamas and the sheets were clinging to her skin with a cold dampness. The space between her legs was still throbbing, her insides still quivering. The sensation of the man's fingers and the intensity of that burning peak still reverberated through her muscles.
Her face had gone bright red. She brought her trembling hands to her core. The wetness was physical proof that the dream had not existed only in her mind. She felt like herself back in adolescence, when she had first begun to experience these feelings. Well, it was true she had no experience up to this point, but she had never felt such a meaningless, consuming sexual hunger before.
It was as though her body had entered some kind of process. None of her previous dreams had ever ended like this.
"How can it feel this real?" she grumbled to herself.
The image of those amber eyes, that roguish gaze, was still vivid in her mind. The patterns of the tattoos, the weight of his body pressing down on her, the burning fullness inside her... All of it was too real. And that terrified Eva.
She took a deep breath and brought her hands to her face. "This is madness," she murmured to herself. "It was just a dream. From stress. From loneliness."
Her tongue and her mind were busy making excuses. But her body wasn't lying. She was wet, she had felt immense pleasure, and she was completely satisfied.
She shook her head, trying to collect herself. She noticed the room was ice cold. The fireplace had long gone out, and every last trace of warmth had vanished from the room. This physical cold formed a terrible contrast to the burning heat of the dream.
She got out of bed and stood up on trembling legs. The cold floor made her legs tremble even more. Her steps were still unsteady as she walked toward the fireplace. The physical echoes of the dream were still reverberating through her muscles. *If even a dream with him left me this drained, I'd die if I actually slept with a man like that,* she thought.
At that moment, the cold air that struck Eva's skin as she threw off the warmth of the bed brought her back to herself for an instant.
"Ahh... Is this cursed mountaintop always going to be this cold?" she grumbled to herself.
One of the definite comforts of city life was proper heating systems. In these mountain conditions, she would have to quickly get the fireplace going to avoid freezing. She immediately got up from the armchair to go fetch more firewood from the shed.
As she got ready and opened the door, the rustling sound beneath her foot made her look down. What she saw surprised her.
On the veranda, left right in front of the door, was an enormous bouquet of flowers.
She bent down and picked up the flowers, looking around. But there was no one. Just snowdrifts, trees, and silence. Nothing else. She couldn't have expected anything different.
"Is this a joke..." she murmured. "We're literally on top of a mountain, who could have put this here?"
To be honest, she didn't dwell on it for long. She had always been a results-oriented woman, and her priority right now was not freezing to death. She set the flowers on the table inside and headed straight for the woodshed. She filled her arms with firewood and returned to the house. She went quickly to the fireplace and lit the fire.
When the flames crackled to life, Eva let out a comfortable sigh. Warmth slowly began to fill the room. She crouched in front of the fireplace and held her hands out toward the fire.
"Oh God, there's nothing more comforting than a fire. I think I really am a cursed witch," she murmured with a laugh.
A few minutes later, her eyes drifted to the flower bouquet on the table. She went over with curiosity and began to examine the flowers.
There was no note, and it didn't look like a random bouquet either. But she had to admit, these colorful, small-leafed flowers really were quite beautiful.
Eva brought the flowers to her nose and took a deep breath. The refreshing scent that filled her nostrils genuinely made her feel happy. A warmth seemed to spread through her from within. Strange as this morning had been, she was starting it in better spirits than most other days.
Just then, there was a knock at the door. Eva fixed her eyes on it, and what she was thinking was plain to see.
Who was at the door? Could it be the owner of the flowers?
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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.