Prologue: The Curse
There was blood smeared across the night.
The Moon Goddess stood at the edge of the holy lake, her silver locks tumbling like liquid flames down her back. Her own eyes gleamed with sorrow as she gazed upon the alpha kneeling at her feet—a man once born to command by virtue who had defiled the laws of fate.
"You've defied the balance of the bond," she told him, ancient and unyielding. "You've killed your mate, sulling your soul with an untransmissible sin."
Silvercrest's Alpha, shattered and shaking, stood upright, daring the Goddess to keep her eyes locked. "I didn't intend to—"
"But you did," she stated, filling her silence with those last, decisive words. "And as your punishment for evil, your line shall carry the penalty."
She lifted her hand, and the air grew heavy with the power of divine anger.
"From this night forward, each Alpha born of your blood will be cursed to kill the one who is meant to be theirs. No mate will ever bring them peace—only death."
The Alpha let out a howl as the curse took hold, a searing pain that coursed from his very heart to the generations yet unborn who would bear. And above them, high in the heavens, the moon blazed red, proclaiming the start of a fate no wolf could avoid.
Chapter 1: The Hunt
Selene ran.
The forest was vibrant with the smell of rain-soaked earth and pine, but all Selene could smell was blood.
The woods stretched out endlessly before her, dark and wild, the smell of damp earth and pine needles filling her nose. The freezing night air seared her throat as she compelled herself to keep moving. Each step grated pain through her naked feet, but she ignored it. To halt was to die.
The shrieks behind her grew louder. The hunters were closing in on her.
Her ragged dress clung to her like a second skin, damp with sweat and streaked with dirt. Her heart thudded against her ribs as she wove between the trees, her body moving on instinct. She was faster than most, but she was also alone—a rogue, without pack to defend her.
And in the world of wolves, a lone rogue was nothing more than prey. Pack wolves thought of her as a feral, a dangerous creature that needed to be eliminated. They ignored the fact that she had never harmed an innocent creature, that she had never taken a life. She was a blemish on their world to them—a reminder of the wolves who refused to obey. The ache in her ribs became more piercing, and Selene winced. She pressed a trembling hand to her side, where the warm wetness of blood seeped through her torn clothing. If she didn't rest soon, she'd never survive the night. She needed shelter. And fast. The forest was alive with the scent of rain-soaked earth and pine, but all Selene could scent was blood. Something else also. Her lungs burned as she sprinted through the thick underbrush, her feet pounding into the damp soil. Her wolf, Nyx, growled in her mind, urging her onward. Faster. We can't stop. Not now. Selene didn't need the reminder. She'd been running for days, her body pushed to its breaking point, but the hunters didn't give up. The Silvercrest Pack had caught her scent, and they weren't about to let her escape. Selene had lived her life as a rogue, steering clear of packs, dodging alphas, and avoiding the regulations that demanded she submit. Something was different, though. She couldn't tell how or why, but she'd recognized it the moment the hunt was underway. They weren't just chasing her; they were hunting her. She dared a glance over her shoulder. Shadows flicked between the trees, their gleaming golden eyes cutting through the night. At least five of them, warriors bred for the hunt. And they were closing in. Nyx, we need a plan. A cliff. A river. A cave—anything! But the forest yielded no haven. The full moon above illuminated all, and there was no hiding. A branch sliced across her cheek, cutting her, but she continued. The wind carried to her the odor of her pursuers—five, maybe six wolves, larger than she, all well-nourished and healthy. She gritted her teeth. She would not last in a fight. A burning jolt of pain shot along her side as she stumbled over an exposed root, tumbling down a slope. Her body slammed into the ground, the breath knocked from her lungs.
Gulping, she rolled onto her back just as the first set of glowing eyes appeared out of the darkness above. They had her encircled. Another snap echoed, this one nearer. Selene cursed under her breath; there were too many of them. She might manage one, maybe two, but not an entire pack of trained enforcers. A low snarl resonated among the trees, and her heart skipped a beat. Panic swelled in her chest, but she forced it down. Think, Selene. She fought her way to her feet, bracing herself against the trunk of a massive oak tree. She had no time to react before a dark shape burst through the underbrush. The impact of the attack sent her crashing to the ground. Her wrists were trapped by firm hands as she struggled, growling, until she looked up into his eyes. Piercing and dark, a midnight blue that gave her the impression he looked into her very soul. The Alpha. Her breath caught. Not just any Alpha—him. Alpha Killian. The accursed Alpha. She'd heard the stories—the Silvercrest Alpha, feared and ruthless. His whispers were told in every rogue camp, a legend spoken as a warning. A warrior stronger than any, a hunter who never lost a chase. They said stories that he was cold and ruthless—a man who had never loved and never would. They said he killed without pity, his heart as cold as the northern winds. And now, he was looking at her as if she was already dead. "You've led us on quite the chase," Killian said, his low voice slicing through the night. "But it ends here." His gleaming silver eyes drilled into hers, unyielding. Selene's fists clenched. She knew what this meant. Rogues weren't given second chances. She was going to die. Or worse— A scent engulfed her, familiar and overpowering.
It struck her like a wave, crashing over all the other emotions. Her breath caught, her heart pounding as something ancient and primal coiled deep within her. Her vision blurred, then cleared, the world tilting as if she had been blind her entire life and was only now beginning to see. An unseen force, irrefutable and strong, wrapped itself around her soul like a rope pulled impossibly tight, drawing her to him. No. It was not possible. And yet, Nyx keened in recognition. The Alpha standing over her stiffened, his weight pressing her deeper into the ground. A flicker of something—shock? Anger? —skittered across his face before it was erased behind a carefully controlled mask. But his hand betrayed him, tightening slightly, as if his body had felt the pull before his mind could reject it. Selene's blood ran cold. No. No. No. Not him. Not the one wolf in the world who could never love his mate. Killian. The cursed Alpha. The one whose mate was destined to die at his hands. Horror clawed at her chest,strangling her, but beneath it something else stirred—something dark and unyielding. A bond, raw and undeniable, wove itself between them, binding them together in a way neither of them could resist. She knew that scent. That power. She had dreamed of it, hungered for it in the dark hours of the night, never realizing why. Now she knew. A bond. His silver eyes darkened, anger brewing just beneath the surface. His jaw muscle twitched, his entire body tightening up. His wolf felt it too. She could see it—could feel it in the way the air between them vibrated with something electric and terrible. Killian's face twisted as though he was struggling with himself. For an instant, she could have sworn she saw something stark cross his face. Fear. Then it disappeared. "You're coming with me," he snarled, his voice low and commanding—like a sentence of death. Selene had hardly processed the words before motion closed in around her.
The wolves on the ridge had come down, transforming mid-stride. Five men stood before her in the space of seconds, their features unyielding, their eyes gleaming with ruthless intent.
She was trapped.
But she would not retreat.
Her lips peeled back, and a snarl was ripped from her throat. "Like hell I am."
She pounced.
Darkness closed over her completely before she could so much as stir.
*. *. *. *.
Selene's form pulsed with a dull pain as she slowly woke, her senses numb and yet sharp enough to discern one thing—she was no longer in the woods.
The scent of costly timber and burning embers replaced wet soil and blood that was the last thing she could remember. Beneath her was a bed, too warm, too comfortable. This was not the ground she had collapsed onto.
Her eyes flew open.
She sat up sharply, muscles tensed for battle, but as soon as she did, a burning pain tore through her ribs. She gritted her teeth, her mind finally catching up with the injuries of her body—bruised, battered, but alive.
The room itself differed from the damp prisons she had been thrown into before. It was lavish, almost to the point of absurdity. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, and soft golden light fell upon the shining floors. The bed she lay on was draped in dark silks, and the fireplace in the corner crackled, sending shadows along the stone walls.
But no matter how luxurious, it was a prison.
Where am I?
Her body ached. The pain was dull now, muted by what she suspected was her wolf's attempt at healing. Her side throbbed where the Alpha's claws had cut her, but she was alive.
That was all that mattered.
She struggled up onto her elbows, her head spinning from the effort. Her pulse quickened as she took in her surroundings. This was not the rogue camp. This was not anywhere familiar.
And then—she heard it.
The slow, steady breathing of another person in the room.
Selene stilled.
Her gaze flew to the other side of the room, where someone was sitting in a chair, watching her.
The fire cast shadows on his face, highlighting the strong jaw, prominent cheekbones, and those piercingly familiar silver eyes. Black hair was damp, as if he'd recently walked through the rain. Clad in black, the fabric clung to his broad shoulders and muscular build.
Deprived of his scent, she'd still have recognized him.
Alpha Killian.
"Finally awake." His voice was low and silky, with a command that could not be mistaken.
Selene swallowed, forcing herself to stay still, to keep her expression blank. She would not show fear. Not in front of him.
Not in front of the monster who could ruin her life.
"Where am I?" she asked, her voice even despite the turmoil within her.
His silver eyes met hers, unfathomable and calculating. "My territory."
Her stomach tightened.
His domain.
She was in his territory now, miles from the rogue territories, miles from any possibility of freedom.
"You brought me here?" she demanded.
He nodded. "You would have died out there."
Selene's jaw tightened. "Maybe I wanted to."
A glimmer of something dark and unfathomable crossed his face, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
"You don't get to die," he said. "Not yet."
A tremor ran down her spine.
"What do you want from me?"
For the first time, something dangerous sparked in his eyes.
"You already know the answer to that."
Selene's breath caught.
She knew.
She was his mate.
And if the prophecy was real, if fate was as ruthless as she had always feared—
He would be her death.
She clenched her fists beneath the blankets. "If you know what I am to you, then you know what happens when you claim me."
Killian did not so much as flinch. He matched her gaze with a chilling calmness. "Yes."
Her nails dug into her palm. "Then why keep me alive?"
A muscle in his jaw tightened. "I haven't decided what to do with you yet."
Selene snorted, forcing herself to sit up straight. "How thoughtful."
The moment she moved, pain seared through her side, hot and unforgiving. She hissed between her teeth, slapping a hand over the wound.
Killian's gaze flicked to the wound.
"You should be grateful I closed the bleeding," he said, his voice flat.
Selene glared at him. "Oh, should I thank you for that?"
She wouldn't admit the part of herself that was shocked he had helped her at all. If he was half as much a monster as rumor claimed, he could have let her die in the forest.
Killian leaned slightly forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. "You think you know me, rogue?"
She didn't say anything.
"Tell me," he whispered, low, almost contemplative. "Do I seem like a man who cannot control his urges?"
Selene swallowed. He didn't.
That was the frightening thing.
He was not a mindless beast who killed on whim. He was contained, calculated, and lethal in ways that had nothing to do with brute force.
He could kill her with a whisper.
"I don't care what kind of man you are," she said, raising her chin in defiance. "You don't own me."
A dark something flickered in his eyes, but he didn't rise to the bait. He leaned back in his chair instead, studying her in a way that made her feel like a specimen under a microscope.
"Your pack left you to die," he said at last. "Why?"
Selene stiffened.
"Or did you betray them first?" he continued, a note of mock curiosity in his voice.
Indignation sparked in her. "I didn't betray anyone."
A glimmer of something cruel—or perhaps amusement?—crossed his face. "That's the beauty of betrayal," he said softly. "It's never as straightforward as we'd wish, is it?"
Selene gritted her teeth. "You don't know anything about me."
His expression darkened. "Oh, but I do."
He stood up.
Selene's muscles tensed automatically, but he did not come near her. He moved to the window instead, gazing out into the storm.
"I know you were never meant to live," he continued. "I know your people turned against you. Even now, if I let you leave this room, you would have nowhere to go."
Selene's breath quickened, a mix of anger and helplessness battling within her.
"I know you're mine, Rogue."
His voice was soft but certain.
A statement. A judgment. A curse.
"The name is Selene, you arrogant bastard!" she shouted as he turned his back and walked away.
Her heart racing. She would not have it. She would not be just another name on his list of vanquished mates.
She had cheated death once, and she would do it again.
No matter the price.
Even if it meant murdering the Cursed Alpha before he could kill her.