Fated To The Cursed And Tainted Alpha
Some chains are forged in iron.
Others in desire.
Sebastian Kol has existed for six centuries. Cursed to burn alive in his own skin every night he transforms into a beast even he cannot control. He wants one thing. Freedom. And after five centuries of searching, a prophecy finally gives it a name.
Leilani Ravenwood.
She carries the mark of the moon goddess on her skin and a prophecy that brands her as his salvation. Her blood silences his beast, and her touch sets him on fire.
In the worst possible way. And in the best possible way.
Furious at the hold she has over him, Sebastian takes her, strips her of everything, and bends her world until it breaks, determined to own what the goddess dared to use against him. What follows is dark and consuming. A monster who has never met his match, and a woman who proves to be it.
But Leilani Ravenwood does not break easily. And somewhere between the hatred and the hunger, the punishment and the pull, the ancient beast begins to suspect the terrible truth.
The woman born to be his salvation may already be his undoing, his poison and cure wearing the same skin.
And he is running out of reasons to care.
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Chapter 4
~LEILANI RAVENWOOD~
My father's council chambers echoed with the sound of raised voices. Desperate ones.
I pressed myself against the cold stone wall outside, peeping through the narrow crack in the heavy door. The air inside was thick with tension. My father sat at the center of it, surrounded by his betas, his expression carved from stone.
"Alpha, we are out of time." One of his betas said. "The deadline is tomorrow night. If she isn't surrendered...."
"I know what the deadline is." My father cut him off, his voice quiet. That was always worse than when he shouted.
Another stood. "The Eastern District packs have bent the knee. All of them. They call him high king now. Even some of our own Western packs have gone to his side." A pause. "He's feeding alphas with his blood. It makes them stronger, more feral, more vicious than anything natural. They tear through enemies like rabid beasts and feel nothing doing it."
"He's taken the House of Veils." Another added. "Every pleasure house, every fighting pit, every black market in the district runs through him now. Humans and wolves alike are flocking to him. He gives them what they want and they give him their loyalty."
The room murmured its dread.
My father's hand came down on the table.
"Enough."
Silence fell immediately.
He looked at each of them in turn, his voice dropping to something cold and absolute. "I will not hand my daughter to that monster. I would rather die defending her than live with the shame of it."
"Alpha." One began carefully. "We don't have the strength to stand against what he is. I fear there may be no other choice."
"There is always another choice." My father's voice cracked through the room like a whip. "I will not sacrifice her. Before I am Alpha, I am her father. And I will not give her up without a fight."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
I pulled away from the door.
They were fighting because of me. Because of a mark I was born with and a fate I never chose. And my father, the man who had kept me locked away my entire life, was willing to die for it.
I should have listened and never wandered outside our territory. Sebastian wouldn't have set his eyes on me then.
I turned away before the tears could fall, and ran.
**********
The night air was cold against my skin as I fled the packhouse, heading straight to a place I hardly ever wandered to.
Rashidat's hut.
The priestess seperated herself from us, in the woods, in a place where silence hung heavy and the only whispers were the ones from the trees. When I reached her door, my hand hesitated before knocking.
It opened before I could.
Rashidat stood there, draped in white linen that shimmered faintly under the moonlight. Her hair, white as frost, fell to her waist. Her blind eyes, clouded and silver, met mine as though she could see right through me.
"I've been expecting you, child." She said softly. Her voice always sounded like it knew all the secrets of the world.
My throat tightened. "Then you know why I'm here."
She stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter. The air inside her hut was warm and thick with incense. Candles flickered on every surface, and a bowl of moonwater sat in the center of the room, glowing faintly.
I sank to my knees before her, my body trembling. "Tell me why, Rashidat. Why did the goddess mark me? Why did she have my path intertwined with Sebastian Kol. I did nothing to deserve this fate."
Her eyes appeared to study me in silence for some long seconds. Then, she said, "You call it a curse because you see only the suffering it brings. But the goddess's touch isn't punishment. It is purpose."
"Purpose?" I choked out, bitter laughter escaping my lips. "To doom everyone I love? To tie my fate to a monster? I hate her for it. I hate the goddess."
Rashidat's hand came down gently on mine, the touch warm and grounding. "Do not blaspheme against the mother, child. Even pain serves its place in her weaving. The threads of your life are not random. They were spun long before you drew breath."
I shook my head, tears sliding freely. "He's stronger than anything I've ever seen. You didn't see him that night, Rashidat. He isn't a wolf, he's something else, something wrong and ancient. I could feel it in my blood when he touched me. I'm powerless against him." I said, last night's dream flooding back into my memory. He had infiltrated my dreams and spoke to me, and even did something more. His powers were something I'd neither heard nor seen before.
"No, you're wrong, Leilani." Rashidat smiled faintly.
I blinked, lifting my head. "What do you mean?"
"You hold more power over him than he dares to believe." She said, voice low and rhythmic, like a chant. "You are not merely bound to him. You were made to balance him."
"Balance him?" I echoed, confused.
"Yes." She reached out, her wrinkled hand finding mine. Her touch was warm, pulsing with strange energy. "You are his cure and key to freedom but more importantly, his undoing and damnation. The same blood that burns in his veins answers to you. You can reverse what he has corrupted."
My heart skipped. "Reverse? You mean the Alphas? The ones who've taken his blood?"
She nodded slowly. "Yes. You can break his hold on them. Undo the curse he spreads like wildfire. Heal what he poisons."
Her words barely made sense. "I don't understand. How could I possibly-"
"The mark on your back bears the goddess's crescents. One for creation. One for destruction. You are the moon's child, Leilani. You were born to undo the night."
I sat there, trembling, her words echoing in my head. Undo him? Heal what he poisons? Reverse the effect of his blood? It was all too much to digest.
"I never asked for this," I whispered. "I never asked to be her weapon."
"No one ever does " Rashidat said softly, her clouded gaze seeming to look through me. "But destiny does not wait for permission. When the goddess calls, every wolf submits."
Her hand pressed lightly to my shoulder. "Be careful, little one. The beast hunts what he fears most, but be not afraid for neither will the goddess stop protecting you." She murmured.
*********
The woods were quiet on the walk back.
Too quiet.
And I felt it in my bones. A shift in the atmosphere. A wrongness in the air that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. The kind that didn't belong to the forest and the kind that said 'You are not alone'.
I stopped walking.
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8.8
"Werewolves are just a fantasy. They can't exist in the real world. You don't have to say such absurd things just to claim my son as yours. Alpha, my ass!" -- Noreen.
"You left me speechless, miss, and therefore you must take responsibility. I couldn't have sex with anyone after that night you marked me. Now, be my Luna, and I'll give you the world. Besides, even without a DNA test, he's definitely my son. He has a strong Alpha aura." -- Alpha Thiery. "He's my heir, the next Alpha of my pack!"
Noreen Winchester never imagined that her reckless, unprotected sex with a mysterious, charming man, on the night her ex-boyfriend married her cousin, would transport her to a world she had previously only considered a fantasy.
That one-night stand caused Alpha Thiery to lose all sexual desire after a beautiful, sexy woman bit his mark gland during a wild night at his uncle's bar three years ago.
His inner wolf claimed that the woman, whose name he didn't even know, was his mate. But the woman was a mere human, and it was impossible for him to have Luna, a mere human.
Then, after many years, the woman appeared before him again, with a boy who was every bit like himself.
The problem was, the woman was not only a mere human, but also incredibly stubborn, believing that anything related to werewolves, vampires, witches, and all supernatural creatures existed only in children's fantasy tales.
Alpha Thiery had to prove that he was a real being, not just a fairy tale creature. More than that, the child she bore was his flesh and blood, the next Alpha of his pack, and he had to have him. necessary, with her, too. Even if she was only a mere human.
7.6
A jagged spike of agony woke Kiana up in a filthy stone room.
She had transmigrated into the body of a notorious, exiled matriarch in a brutal wasteland.
Before she could even process her new reality, she saw a massive, bloodied man huddled in the corner, trembling in absolute terror.
Foreign memories detonated in her brain: the original Kiana swinging a spiked whip, laughing as she tore his flesh open.
He was her husband, and she was a monster who tortured her own consorts.
The situation was a complete death trap.
Another husband stormed in, throwing down a marriage contract and demanding to sever their ties, which would leave her to be eaten by mutated beasts.
Outside, her third husband lay dying from a toxic wound while the rest of the tribe mocked her, eagerly waiting for her downfall.
Scanning her own body, Kiana discovered her face was covered in ugly purple bruises.
The original host hadn't just been naturally insane; she had been secretly fed a chronic poison by political enemies, destroying her beauty and driving her mad until she was exiled.
As a survivor from a modern apocalypse, the sight of broken, enslaved men made her skin crawl.
She refused to die in this savage wasteland as a pawn in someone else's twisted game.
Kiana tossed the contract back to the furious man.
"Give me three months. I will save him, and I swear I won't touch you."
With her apocalyptic healing powers and a newly awakened Spatial System, she was going to rewrite the rules of this primitive world.
9.5
I woke up gasping from a nightmare of flames devouring Chandler Finch's estate, my body wrapped in burning curtains as I died alone.
But my eyes opened to silk sheets in his penthouse master bedroom. He was alive beside me, his cedarwood scent real. This was my second chance—I'd been reborn.
His phone buzzed: Eugenia Stewart's "emergency." Her security detail reported her refusing meals, unstable. Chandler bolted without a glance, rushing to her side.
I signed the brutal cohabitation contract binding me to him, but Temperance had planted birth control pills in the trash—a trap to frame me. Chandler found them, exploded in jealous rage, crushing the pills to dust. "No child unless it's mine," he growled, possessive fire in his eyes.
Brett, Eugenia's lapdog, stormed in later, accusing me of manipulation. I fired back: Chandler demanded my womb for his heir. Brett paled, fled to tattle.
Then the storm hit—power outage, locked on the terrace in pouring rain, freezing as Eugenia faked an asthma attack on Chandler's line, stealing his focus again. I hung up, huddled with a stray puppy, nearly dying from hypothermia.
He'd never believed me before—Eugenia's lies always won, dooming me to isolation and fire. Why did her every whimper trump my screams? How could he be so blind?
This time, reborn weeks before the inferno, I wouldn't beg. I'd play his game, shatter Eugenia's web, and make Chandler mine—before the flames returned.
9.7
Gemma expected the tearing agony of the bullet wound that had just ended her life.
Instead, her trembling fingers met the cool, smooth friction of heavy silk.
She stared into the mirror. Her face was flawless, completely devoid of the jagged scar that had marred her cheek for the last five years.
It was exactly ten years ago. The day of her engagement party to the ruthless billionaire, Brion Hubbard.
In her past life, her "best friend" Katelyn convinced her to run away with a scheming scumbag.
Katelyn claimed Brion was a heartless tyrant who would ruin her. Gemma had foolishly believed those fake tears.
That choice led to her family's bankruptcy, her brutal disfigurement, and ultimately, a fatal bomb explosion.
The only person who tried to save her was Brion, his blood-soaked body shielding hers from the blast.
She even realized too late that the strawberry cream cakes she always made for him were full of dairy.
He wasn't leaving to cheat on her. He was locking himself in a medical bay, fighting fatal allergic shock, just to accept a tiny scrap of her affection.
Gemma had been so incredibly blind. Why did she trust the venomous snakes who destroyed her, while hating the man who died for her?
Hearing Katelyn frantically knocking on the dressing room door, urging her to run away again, a towering hatred surged through Gemma's veins.
This time, she wasn't going to run.
She was going to expose the traitors, take back her family's wealth, and claim the tyrant for herself.
9.4
I was the eldest daughter of the powerful Kirk family, sent away to a Swiss sanatorium to recover from my supposed mental illness.
But my stepmother, Johnie, never intended for me to get better. She sent her personal cleaners to drag me onto a plane back to Washington D.C.
In my past life, I didn't know they were assassins. I was forcefully injected with heavy sedatives and locked in a secret torture chamber inside our luxury estate.
My stepmother and cousin skimmed my inheritance while watching me suffer.
They framed me as a crazy addict, and my own father, a sitting Senator, turned a blind eye to protect his political career.
"Her political value is gone, just get rid of her quietly."
That was the last thing I heard my father say before I was brutally slaughtered by my own family.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand why they hated me so much.
Why did my father let them force those pills down my throat?
Why was my life worth less than my stepmother's public image?
Opening my eyes again, the freezing sensation of lake water filling my lungs vanished.
I was back in the VIP room of the St. Moritz Sanatorium in 2023.
It was the exact morning before the cleaners walked through my door with uncapped syringes.
This time, I wouldn't just survive. I was going to cut the throat of the Kirk family.
7.3
Ciel Miller opened her eyes to the blinding lights of a Manhattan ballroom, realizing she had been reborn on the exact night her life was ruined.
On the stage, the billionaire patriarch of the Chavez family was proudly announcing her engagement to his arrogant grandson, Harry.
In her past life, Ciel had blindly accepted his outstretched hand. That single step plunged her into a suffocating marriage filled with public humiliation and psychological torture, slowly draining her life away until she died. Harry had treated her like a pathetic stray dog, flaunting his absolute ownership while systematically destroying her.
Now, as the polite applause echoed, Harry extended his hand with a sickening smirk, waiting for her to lower her head and submit.
Instead, Ciel stood perfectly rigid and publicly rejected him in front of the entire New York elite.
Harry's face drained of color, while his family quickly mocked her.
"This is a cheap, embarrassing trick to get his attention," his sister sneered.
Harry's arrogant smirk crawled back. He fully believed she was just throwing a childish tantrum to make him jealous, convinced she was absolutely nothing without his wealth and status.
But Ciel looked at the man who had killed her in her past life with freezing disgust.
Then, she turned to the powerful patriarch and dropped a bombshell that left the entire ballroom gasping for air.
"If the family insists on taking care of me, I will marry into the Chavez family."
"But I want to marry the comatose war hero. I want to marry General Deacon Chavez."
She would rather spend the rest of her life with a "vegetable" than wake up next to a monster.