Alpha's sinful mate

What is happening?! Aren’t I supposed to not feel such things? Aren’t I supposed to be mateless?! Aren’t I supposed to be nothing but a simple damn human?! I guess I pulled the small straw from the gene pool… I feel my temperature rising and I feel myself grow unsteady, my vision blurry and my breath shaky. Fuck… fuck… not here! Not now! But no- this is not right. I am wolfless. This is not the mating heat. This is- my drink! The slimy man definitely slipped something into my drink and this shit acted fast and strong! As these thoughts roam through my mind, and my knees feel as if they weaken, a strong pair of hands get hold of my arms, holding me upright. I know for sure that whoever holds me right now, is not looking at me. Their eyes are pinned on the short haired man, and there is a slight growl escaping his throat as he guides me to sit back on the chair.“Did you slip something in her drink?” the man who caught me asks, his voice low and raspy, sending shivers down my spine.P

I could not just blurt out my name, or my father’s! I could not disclose to some stranger - as handsome as he was - who I was! The Malvak family is a renowned one and a special one, that was. The females born into this family usually suffered from an extremely rare genetic mutation, that’s what they call it, but I think it’s just a curse that is bound to our blood. We had no scent, we had no wolf. No matter if the father was an alpha, if his Luna bore a daughter, she’d be born wolfless.. For a werewolf, that might have been the worst fate ever, but in our world, it meant you could easily slide around and move like a fish in water, because you were harder to be caught. Harder to desire, harder to mate. I suck in a breath and something within urges me to play his game. A smile curls on my lips and I feel a bit of mischief tickling my senses. Despite the usual shyness and overall coy nature that is etched within me, one of my hands reaches upwards and my fingers touch his cheek, hesita

She’s smaller than I expected. She looks much frailer. For a ballet dancer, she fits all the standards. Despite her straight posture and her elegant, almost feline way of walking, I can see the way her body lingers for more. More rest. More food and definitely more of ~ me. I’m not sure if I will ever forget the way anger took root in my chest when I saw that scum approach her. Not just that. The way he tried to make his move in such a forceful way. Did he not know a doe like her would scare easily? Did he not see the fear that hid behind those stormy blue eyes of hers? Did he not feel the distrust in her voice when she tried to gently turn him down?The fact that he knew and he still pushed it, the fact that he was ready to dump drugs into her drink and have her in the bathroom, made me blind with rage. It made my stomach turn and my inner demons recoil in disgust and spite. No one was allowed to lay their hands on her-Needless to say, I did not expect the next thing to happen. And

Days passed and I am not sure if I ever spent more time in my life in this dance studio than before this god forsaken show!I walk by the mirror in a hurry, and I catch a glimpse of myself. I looked overworked. I definitely felt overworked. How late was it? The sun had set a while ago and I was sure everything was dark. At least there wouldn't be much traffic and I would make it home soon enough. I sigh and look at myself once more, smoothing my hands over my waist, over my belly, a sinister thought coming to haunt me right now. I was to be married in three weeks. I was to be a wife. A good wife… a good wife births children. But a mother, no matter how good of a mother she was, was not going to be a ballerina. And that terrified me. Ballet has been my life for as long as I could remember. And when I accepted the marriage proposal, I did not take into consideration the collateral damage this would bring. And even now, it seemed unreal. It was not something I could see myself live wit

“Wait, wait, wait -” I hurry to speak when he dips closer to my neck, his nose brushing against one of my pulse point, his breath falling right in the crook of my neck, making my skin turn to goosebumps, while I press my hands into his chest, in a terrible attempt of pushing away. “Wait?” he repeated in a low raspy voice, not moving away from my neck. “Why would I need to wait, little doe?” he asked, the hand on my hips squeezing me a little tighter. “It’s been a four hour dance rehearsal with no break. I stink!” I protest, a little self conscious about the fact that wearing spandex is not the ideal outfit before a date. But this was not a date, was it? “Stink?” he repeats and I wonder if he is just playing dumb or he is truly one handsome hunk and nothing more. “I need to freshen up -” I insist and give his chest another push. But he is not moving. He seems determined to not give me the chance and dignity to shower before he puts his lips on me. I feel the tip of his nose move