Wrapped in my Enemy's Arms
When Ayla is dragged from her school into the heart of a strange wolf territory, she expects torture-or death. Instead, she meets Alpha Kael: a man as dangerous as he is breathtaking, and a secret buried beneath his skin. His blood awakened an ancient orb-and in one night, Kael became the vessel of a living curse.
Now the orb stirs again, its power latching onto Ayla. The mark she wears, her mother's ring, links her to the prophecy whispered by the Moon goddess messenger:
"When the moon bleeds and the cursed wolf kneels, love shall either heal the wound... or end the world."
As darkness spreads through the pack and the curse consumes Kael's soul, Ayla must decide whether to save him-or destroy him before the prophecy destroys them both.
But fate has a cruel sense of humor...
Because to break the curse, the moon goddess demands the one thing neither of them is willing to give up.
Their hearts.
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Chapter 1
Ayla's POV
"Do not cause a scene, Ayla. Keep your temper down – it's an important day," Coach says.
My jaw tightens, and I can almost feel my claws emerging. Why am I always the one to keep my temper when others keep asking for trouble?
I roll my eyes and respond before she leaves "Yes-Coach."
My wolf purred when I saw Sebastian walking towards me. He had that smile he always does when he notices my arousal scent. I would have finished only if Coach didn't walk in and almost catch me in the middle of pleasing myself.
"Do you need some help, baby?" he whispers after tapping my ass.
The Red Crescent Moon Pack are currently looking for warriors to join their pack-and I, Ayla, the best warrior student in Nightwhisper Academy, am about to have a quickie.
"Sebastian... hmm," I moaned as he slips his large palm into my spandex tights, gently massaging my clit.
"After the picking..." I mutter in between moans.
"Let me just make you come, Ayla. Then we can go for the picking ceremony after, alright?"
Sebastian ends his statement by thrusting his fingers deep inside me.
"Fuck... yes, I'm almost there. Oh goddess, help me."
My hips jerk up to straddle his hand more as I feel my climax climbing. My wolf stirred in me roughly-it was strange. Since it wasn't the first time with Sebastian, then why is she acting this way?
"Fuck, Ayla-" Sebastian muttered as he stops.
One millisecond more and I would have climaxed, but he just had to spoil the fun. I exhaled hard before speaking.
"What's wrong?" I ask him.
"Your eyes, Ayla... they're s-silver," he stammered.
I've never seen Sebastian look this way before-it was new.
"What do you mean they're silver?" I get up from him and check the dressing mirror.
"They're perfectly fine and... black," I shrug.
"I-I need to go," he whispers and storms out.
Why did he seem so scared, like he had seen a ghost? What a funny guy.
I adjust my tights and step out of the dressing room. That was when it hit me-the heavy scent of a male that made my wolf stir madly. My wolf prowled; she was uneasy and filled with desire at the same time. It was a new scent, something I couldn't recognize. Whoever it was is either a new student or a guest.
Calm down, girl. You're not in heat, so keep it down, please, I communicate with my wolf.
The dome was filled with many students, teachers, and guests. I try using my sharp senses to locate Seb, but I can't find him. He's not inside the hall. The hall hummed with wolf energy as I made my way down.
I glance at the names on the large television screen in the middle of the hall. It ranked 1–20, the best fighters in the academy. My eyes gleam and my chest rises when I see my name at the top of the list.
I took my seat with the other fighters. They all moved away from me, and some even whispered. It wasn't a new thing... I think they should even be tired of it by now.
Whispers start coming from my right, and some students' mouths were agape.
"I don't mind being a baby mama for him," one girl says.
"He's so hot and sexy," another says.
Their eyes focused on some set of people walking to the front of the hall. I tried to look, but I couldn't get a proper view from my seat.
The school head walked to the podium and gathered our attention.
"Ahem..." Mr. Keith clears his throat.
That's when I see them. Six of them-and among them is a woman. She's the one from my dreams, always talking about some sort of power I don't understand.
What the fuck is going on? Who are they?
"We're all gathered here to pick five good fighters who will become warriors for the Red Crescent Moon Pack," Leader Keith says.
"The first round of the match starts now. Good luck to the contenders," he says and steps down from the podium.
The spotlight moves to the fighting ring. My chest tightens. This same ring...
The first contenders fought, then the second... Now I'm up next, and I'm going against Finn. Everyone knows Finn isn't a fair fighter, and I sense that he was put to fight against me intentionally.
"Get up here, Ayla. Let me pet that wolf in you," he says, grinning at me as I climb into the ring.
Remember who you are, I could hear my father's voice tell me as I took my stance.
I turn my body slightly, so my right side is facing him. With one leg a bit forward, I put my arms up to eye level and bend my knees a bit.
"Come on, big boy," I tilt my head, my lips tugging upwards.
His huge body drifts towards me and he throws out his arm, but I easily dodge his attack, making him lose balance and fall to the floor. The crowd cheers.
Before he rises to his feet, I jump on his back and wrap my hand around his neck tight-stopping him from breathing. He wriggled and writhed, but I held on tight. I wasn't going to let go.
The moment he taps out, I get down from him and I'm announced the winner.
Only a few people cheered. I force out a smile and bow my head-but my chest rises up and down, and a smile beams on my lips. I know my father would be proud of me at this moment.
An object suddenly slams into me, sending me flying across the ring. I scream out in pain and turn around-Finn is glaring at me, a vein twitching in his temple as he raises the iron rod and moves with speed towards me.
I only manage to clutch my body as the iron strikes my ribs. Each strike blurs the world around me. I try to get up to my feet, but the iron collides with me, this time with so much force that my body hits the ground flat.
I couldn't move; the ringing in my ears was loud and the metallic taste in my mouth was evident.
Finn is above me, grinning from ear to ear like a maniac, his eyes locked on mine. I look around, but my vision is blurred, and the only thing I can make out is the audience screaming and cheering loudly.
He's about to hit me one more time when a huge body slams into him and sends him flying.
I try to look into the man's face, but my vision is fading... I only remember his scent-it's the same one from outside the dome.
"I-don't-want-to-die," I mutter under my breath.
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7.5
For five years, I was locked away in the freezing royal dungeon, starved and used as a bloody plaything by the kingdom's sadistic Cabinet Minister, Brandt Fischer.
He tortured me daily for one twisted reason: I simply looked like someone else.
When he visited my cell to casually announce my father's execution and drag a silver dagger across my neck, he expected me to beg.
Instead, I laughed, sank my teeth directly into his carotid artery, and was violently thrown against a jagged stone wall to my death.
As my skull cracked and my blood stained the moss, I thought about my so-called family. The moment Brandt had demanded me, my father, the Duke, handed me over without a single hesitation to save his own political career.
I was nothing but a disposable pawn, left to rot in the dark while the monsters who ruined my life thrived.
I died suffocating on my own blood and absolute, destructive vengeance.
Then, I opened my eyes.
I was lying in my silk-sheeted bed, reborn as my fifteen-year-old self.
Today was the exact day Lord Daryl Langley, the God of War, would be ambushed and crippled—the event that allowed Brandt to seize ultimate power.
I immediately stole a horse, rode to the palace gates, and threw myself directly in front of Daryl's moving carriage.
"I just didn't want to see a hero die like a slaughtered pig."
I didn't care if I had to shatter my own ankle to hijack his convoy. This time, I was going to save the general, and he would become the blade I use to slaughter them all.
9.0
Isolde woke up in a freezing, ruined stone house with a splitting headache and only five percent of her life signs remaining.
Before she could even process the mechanical system voice in her head, a flood of violent memories slammed into her.
She had transmigrated into the body of a cruel noblewoman who mercilessly tortured her beastmen husbands with a barbed whip.
And right now, she was lying in a pool of her own blood, having been shoved against the stone floor by one of them.
Outside the rickety door, her husbands were coldly discussing her death.
"Just go in and finish her. One stab, and we're free."
"If she hit her head and died on her own, then it's an accident. We walk out of here as free males."
To test if she was faking her sudden amnesia, the snake beastman Dangelo even ground his heavy military boot into her injured hand, waiting for her to snap so he could legally end her.
She was poisoned, freezing, and entirely at the mercy of the men who deeply despised her.
She was bearing the deadly consequences of a monster she never was, with a red system warning of imminent death flashing in her mind.
But they didn't know the new Isolde had awakened a survival system and Life Magic.
She swore a blood oath to the Beast God to buy herself three months of time.
Then, she turned her sights to the dying wolf beastman chained in the shed, deciding to pull him back from hell to become her very first shield.
7.2
The Royal Pack’s glowing moonstone token rested in my palm.
Before I could even process the miracle of my rebirth, my half-sister Alyssa snatched it right out of my hand.
"This destiny is mine, little sister. Enjoy your cursed Alpha," she sneered.
My family easily caved to her whining. They forced me to take her place and marry Alpha Kaelen, a man they called an insane, crippled monster with three feral adopted sons. They laughed, expecting his beast to tear me apart before the honeymoon was over.
Alyssa thought she was stealing my crown. She didn't know she had just stolen my death sentence.
In my previous life, that exact token had made me the Alpha King’s Luna. But I was just a convenient, disposable meat shield for his true human mate. I died agonizingly, choking on poison meant for her, while the King didn't even blink.
I lowered my head, forcing my shoulders to tremble as if holding back terrified sobs. I played the part of the pathetic, wolfless Omega they all believed me to be.
But beneath my fake tears, I felt a profound relief.
I remembered the Kaelen from my past life. He wasn't a monster. He was powerful, agonizingly lonely, and slowly destroyed by a dark magic no one understood.
I wisely accepted the marriage pact and walked right into his freezing manor.
I know exactly who cursed him. And this time, I will save him, protect his boys, and make his entire pack mine.
7.9
Estrella Ward gave five years of her life to her husband, draining her trust fund to save him from bankruptcy and raising his son as her own.
But one night, she woke up in a freezing hotel room, drugged, with a stranger's bite marks on her skin.
Her husband burst through the door with cameras, his vicious family, and her ten-year-old stepson, publicly framing her as a cheating whore.
The horrifying truth soon surfaced: her husband had drugged her himself, selling her body to his Wall Street boss to secure a senior partnership.
Estrella fought back with hidden security footage, blackmailing him into submission after discovering she was pregnant with his boss's child.
But fate dealt a cruel blow. She was diagnosed with aggressive, terminal breast cancer.
She refused to abort the baby to keep her leverage, but the cancer spread too fast.
She died alone in a cold hospital room, her vengeance unfinished, while her husband and his cruel family celebrated.
They thought they had successfully buried her and her secrets forever, escaping unpunished for destroying her life.
But when she gasped for air and opened her eyes again, she wasn't in a cold grave.
She was in a sterile hospital bed, looking at the perfectly manicured hands of Brooklyn Thompson—the notorious, empty-headed socialite everyone despised.
Estrella's soul had survived the abyss.
"You're going to pay for every drop of blood."
She clenched her new fists, the fire of her vengeance burning brighter than ever.
9.6
Antoinette stood on the manicured church lawn, the blinding summer sun stabbing her eyes. The funeral service for her parents had just ended.
A hand wrapped around her trembling shoulder, carrying the sharp, cloying scent of Fabian Cash's cologne. It was the exact same cologne her fiancé wore the night he locked her in a burning house to die in her previous life.
Now, wearing a mask of sorrowful devotion, Fabian tried to drag her to his car to control her parents' massive life insurance payout.
When she shoved him away in pure nausea, his mother Eleanor immediately shrieked to the crowd, deploying her usual guilt trip.
"She's lost her mind! The girl has completely snapped!"
The townspeople whispered and pointed fingers, watching Fabian play the victim as he tightened his bruising grip on her wrist, claiming she was hysterical and needed to be locked away.
Antoinette stared at the mother and son who had conspired to steal her family's estate and end her life. The rage inside her felt like battery acid pumping through her veins.
They didn't care if she lived or died; they only cared about the money. How could she let them strip her of everything again?
She didn't hesitate. She swung with every bit of strength she possessed, slapping Fabian across the face in front of the entire town.
"The engagement is over," she announced coldly.
Then, she turned her back on her greedy ex-fiancé and walked straight toward the terrifyingly powerful billionaire Hiram Graves, ready to let the world burn.
9.4
I was lying in a sterile hospital room, dying of cancer, with only a fake infertility report to keep me company.
Right before my heart monitor flatlined, a stranger walked in and handed me a medical file.
He told me that my fiancé, Garret, had zero sperm viability. The baby my adoptive sister, Beryl, was carrying wasn't his.
When Beryl got pregnant years ago, my adoptive parents forced me to break my engagement and take the blame for being barren.
I was discarded by Garret, mocked by Beryl's triumphant smiles, and kicked out of the house.
I was left to rot alone in a hospital bed while they lived the perfect life stolen from me.
My entire existence had been a cage built on a single, disgusting lie.
The anger burned away my despair. Why was I the only one who didn't know?
Why did I let them use me as a maid and a shield for their filthy secrets?
As the darkness swallowed me, I prayed for just one more chance.
I opened my eyes to the sound of my adoptive mother yelling my name.
The calendar on the wall read March 15, 2019—the exact day they forced me to give up Garret.
This time, I didn't cry or beg.
"You want Beryl to have Garret? Fine," I told my shocked adoptive parents. "But I want a cash buyout, and we are legally severing this adoption."
Then, I set my sights on Douglass Ward—the stranger from the hospital room.