A wife for the cursed alpha

Lana’s POV I sat in the cold, sterile room of the hospital; the scent of antiseptic and sickness hung heavy within the air. My mother lay in the bed, her body frail and with machines and wires hooked on her. There was only a soft beeping of the monitors in the quiet of the room, a relentless reminder of just how fragile things were. I felt the doctors words echo-against my skull, cold, landing hard blows one after another on my already fragile mind: critical condition, urgent surgery, no guarantees. It felt like someone kicked me in the guts, sucking all the air from my lungs. My head was a jumble of fear and panic. How was I to be able to afford surgery? I didn't have any savings; I didn't have any family. My mother's medical bills were already growing, while I wasn't able to do much at all. My job drained me and gave me pennies as compensation. The doctor's voice cut through my thoughts, firm but sympathetic. "Miss Reynolds, I'm afraid we can't delay any longer. Your mother ne

Lana's POV I looked up at the person I'd bumped into, and my heart sank. He looked like a Greek god and his well tailored suit that looked like it probably costs more than I’ve earned my whole life made a pit form in my stomach. "Oh no, I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, shaking my voice, stepping away from him. "I am so sorry; I wasn't looking where I was going." I turned around and walked off quickly, cursing the fact that this could be the most horrible beginning to a day. First, depressing news from a doctor, a boss refusing the request, now this bumping into some wealthy man who might just report this to my boss and get me fired. As I walked, I felt the pricking of tears at the corners of my eyes, trying to hold them in to no avail. I started sobbing, cursing my fate. "Why does this always happen to me?" I said to myself in a sad and shaking voice. "Can't I ever get a good break? Why does my mother need to fall ill? Why would my boss need to refuse me?" I went into the hall where m

Lana's POV. "Yes, thank you ma'am." I added with a bow even though the person on the other end of the phone could not see me. I burst into Max's library after politely hanging up the phone, excitement radiating from every pore. "Max, I have the most amazing news!" I exclaimed, hardly able to contain myself. I had just received the call of a lifetime: the Smiths, one of the richest families in town, had given me the contract to design the wedding dress for their daughter's wedding. A dream come true, I couldn't wait to share it with Max. Max looked up from the papers he was studying, his face unreadable. "What is it, Lana?" he asked in that dry and unenthusiastic tone of voice. I took a deep breath and tried to catch it in. "I just got a call from the Smiths' wedding planner; they've awarded me a contract to design the wedding dress for their daughter's wedding!" I exclaimed, expecting some semblance of reaction from him again. But Max didn't change his expression. He nodded sligh

Max's POVIt wasn't dawn yet when my fists slammed into the training dummy for the sixth time. My knuckles ached beneath the wraps, I was sweaty all over, and I honestly felt exhausted, but I kept going. Over and over because I needed a way to vent. To feel something other than the girl living in my house.Lana....Just the thought of her made my chest burn with something inextinguishable. Anger and confusion. Something worse?I hated being disobeyed. She just had one thing to do. Abide by my rules.And what was worse? She went out dancing with some man I planned on paying a visit to later.Ethan had forwarded some photos alongside a note that said: "You seeing this?"Oh, I had. And I haven't stopped playing the images in my head since.She'd been laughing even when the ridiculous human held her waist in the name of dancing. Like she was some food on parade.And that was where the problem lay. Because she wasn't someone random to have a dance with. She belonged to someone.And that so

Lana's POVMax left early that morning. I'd thought that I'd get the chance to tell him that I was sorry since I didn't get to say it before. To maybe crack the ice.But nope. He only seemed to want to avoid me more and it stung in a way. I didn't like how the only thing that rang louder than his silence was the weight that came with being.....tolerated.Of course. That was what I was now, wasn't I? Someone being tolerated.I had no idea what the time was since the mansion had zero clocks on the walls. Time seemed to be measured by the light that streamed through the windows and for me, by the occasional knocks at my door for lunch, dinner and breakfast.I was in bed, staring upward as counting the ceiling had seemingly become my daily routine when a knock came on my door."Ma'am....." the voice called from outside my door.Wasn't it too early for lunch?I got up to open the door anyway and I found one of the housekeepers standing there. Today, it was a middle-aged woman who tried to