The Rebel Mate..

Asher

I stood by the window in the pack’s war room, my eyes tracing the high walls below. Past them, the forest stretched out endlessly, quietly watching. This spot was where I always came when I needed to clear my head.

“Congratulations on your new mate.” Zechariah, my closest confidant and a constant headache, let out a mocking laugh, spinning his dagger between his fingers like a toy.

I brought a cup to my lips and took a slow drink, letting the bitter wine settle before I finally spoke. “She’s the one.”

Zechariah’s eyebrows shot up, and he leaned against the wall by the window like he had nowhere else to be. His lips curved. “All these years you spent looking for her, and it turns out to be Nicholas’s daughter. Who would’ve guessed?”

He let out a short laugh. “Stubborn one, though. I’ll give her that. Seems like you are about to have your hands full, Asher.”

At that comment, my lips twitched.

Stubborn she was. And down to the bone.

She’d looked me dead in the eye and refused to back down, despite everything that I was. My smile disappeared. Most women would’ve crumbled the second I raised my voice. But not Elvara.

Heat and irritation flickered in my chest. As much as she intrigued me, I didn’t have time for a girl with a sharp mouth and zero manners.

If it were up to me, if I could’ve picked any she-wolf I wanted, one that was nimble and soft spoken, and as for that girl, I would’ve had her head the second she talked back to me in front of my own people. Replaced her without a second thought.

My jaw locked tight, and the cup nearly cracked in my grip.

The curse had been eating at me for years now. A hunger for blood that just never stopped, no matter how much I fed it.

The thirst lived on, and every year, it changed me more.

It lived in me like something wild, something that couldn’t be kept on a goddamn leash. It kept me locked away from my own pack, kept me alone, and turned me into a rogue.

Even my wolf wasn’t right anymore. It was not the balanced creature an Alpha was supposed to carry inside of him; it had turned into something twisted and starving.

The curse never rushed. It just waited. And hell, it was cruel about it.

Every year it took more from me, chipping away at whatever control I had left. Once it finally won, there’d be nothing left of me for the world to tell it’s nightmares about. Just the monster. And the havoc I’d cause.

I breathed in slowly, my eyes going dark at the thought.

There was one way out of this mess. One way to break it all. An heir. A child of my own. My own blood.

And she was the only one who could give me that.

Elvara.

The one fate had tied to me. If I claimed her and she carried my child, the curse would break for good.

But if she refused, if time ran out… Then it wouldn’t just be me who paid for it. Any child I ever managed to have would carry the same curse, doomed the same way I was, forever.

That, I would not allow. I’d burn the whole world down first.

“What I don’t get,” Zechariah said, snapping me out of it, “is if she’s really your mate, why didn’t either of you feel it?” There was real confusion in his voice this time.

My jaw stayed tight, my eyes still fixed on the sky outside, which was getting darker by the second. “The curse blocks it. There’s something standing between us and she cannot feel the pull the way I do.”

Zechariah straightened up, still spinning the dagger in his hand as he walked toward me, and whatever playfulness had been in his tone finally drained away.

“Asher, you want her to give you an heir. But from what I saw, I don’t think that girl is going to hand that over easy. She’s more stubborn than you’re giving her credit for. Unless—” His eyes sharpened as he peered at me. “Wait… are you planning to force her into your bed?”

I said nothing. Just kept my eyes locked on the walls beyond the glass.

I’d already studied Elvara, and one thing she had in excess was pride.

She wasn’t going to make this easy, that much was clear. Elvara had a rebellion running through her that matched mine. I’d tried putting her in her place, tried knocking some sense into her, and she’d answered by proving exactly how stubborn she really was no matter how intimidating I was.

She had no idea what I’d survived. She had no right to judge me for running out of patience. And if worse comes to worst…

I finally looked back at Zechariah, skipping past his question. “I thought there were rumors she was cursed?”

He shrugged, infuriatingly relaxed about it. “They are just rumors. I checked. She’s clean.”

“Hm.” I didn’t care either way. Cursed or not, all that mattered was whether she could break mine by giving me a child.

The thought clawed at me the way it always did, and I knew I was only one inch away from insanity.

This curse had ruined me. It had torn me apart piece by piece, year after year; it took away from me until I didn’t recognize the man staring back at me anymore. It had made me kill my own father with my own hands, along with one of his most loyal guards. That night was burned into me for good. And now, many years down the line, I still couldn’t shake the image of my father’s body, torn apart. His hands, drenched in blood, and his eyes wide open as he stared into the eyes of his murderer. His own son.

For years now, I’d stayed out of every fight, every hunt, anything that could draw blood. I let my men handle what needed to be dealt with because even the smell of a drop of blood was enough to wake the monster in me. And still, no matter what, the hunger never ceased. It was never satisfied.

Blood. Always wanting blood.

“Maybe—” Zechariah started, but a loud crash cut him off, shaking the whole room.

The heavy doors burst open, slamming hard against the walls, and a soldier rushed in, and dropped straight to his knees. Right behind him followed one of my most trusted advisers; his face was drained of color and there was urgency written all over him.

My brow twitched.

“Forgive the intrusion, Alpha Asher,” he said, breathlessly, “But this news cannot wait.”

My eyes narrowed. “Talk.”

He moved forward fast, unrolling a piece of parchment across the stone table, his hands shaking as he spoke.

“For weeks, wolves across the pack have been reporting a strange sickness. It started in only a remote area, but in the last two days alone, we’ve lost four wolves and have sixteen on the verge of death. The healer’s house is overflowing right now, and he still has no answers to this very minute.”

My eyes darkened, annoyance and anger ticked through his jaw. “Could this be the witches again?”

The witches had been a thorn in my side lately. It wouldn’t be fucking surprising if this were another one of their tricks. And if it was, I’d burn their entire puny coven down to nothing.

The adviser shook his head. “No, my lord. If it were magic, we’d see traces of it. But the healer found something else inside them.”

“What did he find?”

“He doesn’t know, Alpha. He’s never seen anything like it. It isn’t natural. Whatever this is, it moves fast, and it kills. Nothing good comes from it.”

Zechariah stepped forward out of the shadows, his head tilted, and his eyes sharp with interest as he looked between me and the adviser. “A mystery illness. Interesting timing, don’t you think?”

I ground my teeth together. He had a point. Why now? This was the absolute worst time for something like this to show up. The timing lined up too perfectly with Elvara’s arrival for my liking.

My voice turned cold and hard. “Is there nothing to slow it down? No cure at all?”

The adviser lowered his head. “None, my lord. It’s strange; nothing like this exists in our records. It came out of nowhere. There may be something more behind it.”

My eyes narrowed further. “Meaning what, exactly?”

He swallowed hard, fear plain in his eyes. “I couldn’t say for certain, Alpha.”

“Gather the Moon Soldiers,” I ordered in an icy tone. “Have them search everything. Leave nothing unchecked, and whatever it takes, make sure you find out what’s causing this.”

The adviser bowed even lower, shaking under the weight of my tone. “Right away, my lord.”

But before he could straighten, my eyes snapped open wide.

My whole body went rigid, every hair on my skin standing up at once. My power surged, crackling through the room without warning.

Zechariah frowned. “What’s wrong?”

My mouth curled slowly into a dark smile. “She’s trying to run.”

“Who?” His eyebrows lifted.

“Elvara.” I was already moving toward the door. “The one I bought.” My footsteps hit the stone floor hard as I stormed out.

My wolf clawed restlessly at my chest. And I could tell without a single doubt. Elvara’s disobedience was the first thing that had made me feel alive in years.