Bewitching the Alpha
I stood at the edge of Ironwood territory, boots sinking into mud as cold seeped through my coat. I hated being this close to their land. It smelled like wet dog, testosterone, and trouble.
“You’re late, witch.”
The voice hit low and deep, vibrating through the ground before it reached my ears. I didn’t flinch. I refused to give him that.
I turned slowly, amethyst eyes narrowing as I found him at the tree line.
Guilermo Santander.
He stepped into the gray light, rain sliding off his broad frame. Six-foot-five of pure menace. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, silver streaks catching the gloom, and those amber eyes—burning straight through me.
“I’m not late,” I said calmly, though my pulse spiked. “You wolves just don’t understand patience.”
He stopped three feet away. My skin prickled as the runes along my ribs flared hot, reacting to the dense magic rolling off him. Suffocating. Intoxicating.
“And you witches don’t understand territory,” Guilermo said. He didn’t sound feral. He sounded tired—like a man carrying a century of weight on deceptively young shoulders.
He leaned in and sniffed near my neck. I stiffened.
“You smell like sage and burnt sugar,” he murmured, voice dropping, darker now. “It’s giving me a headache.”
“Then stop breathing,” I snapped.
One corner of his mouth lifted, a flash of sharp canine. “Make me.”
The air between us snapped tight. My magic stirred, violet haze curling from my fingertips without permission, brushing the leather of his jacket.
He didn’t pull away.
He leaned closer.
And standing there in the freezing rain with a man who could tear my throat out, I realized two things: Elder Sibal was wrong—Guilermo wasn’t a monster to be chained.
And I was in serious trouble.
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Chapter: EPILOGUETen Years LaterOakhaven wasn't a secret on a map anymore. You couldn't hide a place where the streetlights were powered by bioluminescent moss and the local sheriff had a tail during the full moon.It had become a destination.It was a bustling, chaotic, vibrant town nestled in the valley of the mountains, a place where magic was as common as electricity and twice as reliable. On Main Street, tourists with cameras stared open-mouthed as a delivery witch levitated crates of produce off a truck. Two blocks over, a Wolf in uniform ran a patrol beat alongside a human police officer, their strides matching perfectly as they argued about baseball scores. In the central park, a circle of Witches taught a botany class to a mixed group of kids, showing them which plants healed and which ones bit back.I stood on the wide stone balcony of what used to be the Coven House.The fortress-like vibes were gone. The heavy iron gates were always open now. The stone had been scrubbed of soot and defens
Last Updated: 2026-01-30
Chapter: CHAPTER 119: Final ReflectionThe sun was beginning its long, slow descent over Oakhaven, bleeding out against the horizon in heavy strokes of bruised purple and burnished gold.I sat on the flat tar-and-gravel roof of the Coven House, my legs dangling over the stone ledge. The gravel bit into my palms as I leaned back, the rough texture grounding me. This was the spot. The exact same spot where Guilermo had kissed me on the night of the Solstice Festival years ago. The same spot where I had stood, shivering and terrified, and made the choice to stop running.But the world below my boots looked different now.The scars of the war were gone. Time and hard work had smoothed them over. New growth had reclaimed the scorched earth. The town was a patchwork of slate roofs and green gardens, chimney smoke rising in lazy, gray ribbons that tangled together in the still air.The most striking change, however, wasn't the architecture. It was the flow.Years ago, there had been a line. An invisible, razor-sharp demarcation b
Last Updated: 2026-01-30
Chapter: CHAPTER 118: MorningThe sun spilled across the floorboards like spilled honey, thick and slow, inching its way up the duvet until it touched Guilermo’s bare shoulder.I lay there, watching it happen.For the last month, under the Architects' barrier, the light had been different. Thinner. Colder. It had felt like living inside a Tupperware container.But today… today the light was rich. It carried the dust motes in a lazy dance. It warmed the air. It felt like Tuesday. Just a normal, boring, beautiful Tuesday.I shifted slightly, the heavy quilt rustling around my legs.Guilermo was asleep.He slept differently now than he did when we first met. Back then, even in sleep, he was a coiled spring. His brow would be furrowed, his hands curled into fists, ready to fight a nightmare or a rogue.Now, he was sprawled on his stomach, one arm thrown over his head, the other draped heavily across my waist. His breathing was deep and rhythmic, a slow sound that was the best lullaby I had ever known.I reached out an
Last Updated: 2026-01-30
Chapter: CHAPTER 117: New Threat"Report," I said, setting my ceramic mug down on the granite countertop. The tea was chamomile, meant to calm my nerves, but the look on Marco's face curdled the milk in my stomach instantly.Marco stood on the other side of the kitchen island. He was usually the picture of relaxed competence, the kind of guy who could defuse a bomb while eating a sandwich. Today, he looked tight. His shoulders were hunched, and his hands were gripping the edge of the counter hard enough to turn his knuckles white."We have movement in the Grey Lands," he said. His voice was low, careful not to carry into the living room where the baby was playing. "Scouts report a gathering at the northern ridge. It's not constructs. It's not rogue wolves.""Then who?" I asked, though a cold dread was already pooling at the base of my spine."Witches," he said. "Or... things that look like witches. They're wearing gray coats."My stomach dropped through the floor.The Architects.I turned away from Marco and walked t
Last Updated: 2026-01-30
Chapter: CHAPTER 116: Future"So," Guilermo said, staring down at the small, squirming bundle in my arms with a mixture of awe and absolute terror. "Are we going to talk about the fact that our son just sneezed a fireball?"I looked down at Silas. He was currently blinking up at me, looking entirely too innocent for a creature who had just committed arson. He smelled of milk, baby powder, and sulfur."It wasn't a fireball," I corrected, bouncing him gently to keep him calm. "It was a… thermal discharge. A hiccup. His core is just settling.""He singed the cat, Lilura. There is smoke coming off the cat."I glanced toward the bay window. Barnaby, the Pack House’s ancient, battle-scarred mouser, was sitting on the sill. He looked offended. The very tip of his tail was smoldering slightly, a thin wisp of gray smoke curling into the afternoon light. He let out a low and began aggressively licking the scorched fur."Barnaby is fine," I said dismissively. "He likes the heat. He sleeps on the radiator all winter; this is
Last Updated: 2026-01-30
Chapter: CHAPTER 115: HoneymoonThe cabin wasn't just a building; it was a deep exhalation after holding our breath for a year.It was tucked away in a valley that looked like it had been carved out of the earth solely for the purpose of hiding us. The mountains surrounding it were jagged and steep, scraping the belly of the sky with snow-capped peaks that turned pink in the early morning light. There were no roads leading here, only a narrow deer trail we had hiked in on. There was no cell service. No Council messengers. No pack links.The lake in front of the cabin was a sheet of glass, so still that the reflection of the treeline was sharper than the trees themselves. It felt like we were floating in a bubble, suspended in a space where time moved differently. Slower. Syrupy.We had been here for two days.For forty-eight hours, I hadn't heard a single alarm. I hadn't looked at a tactical map. I hadn't worried about whether my magic was going to be the death of us.Just us. Just the woodstove, the creaking floorb
Last Updated: 2026-01-30
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