The Alpha King and The Witch Supreme

Aminda's PoV

I flinched at the crash of crystal shattering against the marble floor. My stepfather’s voice roared through the house, rattling the walls. I stayed hidden behind the tall vase in the hallway, unwilling to step into his storm.

“Where is your daughter, Coraline?!” Alister’s fury was a beast of its own.

My mother wrung her hands, her confidence long eroded since marrying him two years ago. She was still beautiful—slender and youthful, with golden hair cascading over her shoulders—but her fire dimmed every time he towered over her.

“Alister, please,” she stammered. “I’ve called her, but she hasn’t answered. She must be on her way home.”

He jabbed a finger at her forehead. “Do you understand what’s at stake? Think, woman!”

“She’s responsible,” my mother whispered. “She’ll be fine.”

“She is next in line to become Witch Supreme, Coraline. Not even you could claim that title. Your sister sits on the throne now, and giving birth to Aminda is the only thing you’ve ever done right.”

Her head bowed, shoulders trembling. If my real father were alive, this power-hungry scoundrel wouldn’t even be allowed through our gates.

“Go to your quarters,” he ordered. “I’ll wait for her. She cannot keep slipping her security. We can’t risk anything happening to her.”

When my mother disappeared down the hall, I straightened from my hiding place, pushing platinum strands over my shoulder. My school uniform still clung to me from the day, the skirt too short for my liking. I’d gone to the Abyss Forest with Deandra and Besa after classes, practicing magic and—if we were honest—admiring the young werewolves on their full moon runs. Our cloaking spells let us spy unseen. It was our guilty little secret.

“I’m back, Alister.” My voice cut through the silence. “You don’t need to disrespect my mother that way.”

He was beside me in a blink, his grip bruising my arm. Whiskey and smoke clung to his breath as he leaned too close.

“Where were you, rabbit?”

“With my friends. It’s Friday. It’s not even that late.”

His other hand clamped down on me, pulling me closer. His mouth hovered at my neck, making my stomach turn.

“Were you a good little girl today?” His nose grazed my skin, inhaling me like a scent he meant to memorize.

“Get off me.” I twisted, but his strength dwarfed mine.

His clammy hand slid beneath my skirt, tracing up my thigh. “Tell me, Aminda… if I touch you here, will I still find you intact?”

My breath caught. He’d done this before, his vile “check,” always stopping short. His fingers teased the line of my panties while his nose dragged along my throat.

“Aminda? Are you back?” My mother’s voice floated from the corridor.

Alister withdrew, but his eyes warned me. “The day I don’t find you intact, rabbit… you’re mine.”

He stormed off, leaving me shaking with rage.

“Aminda, are you alright?” My mother reached for me, but I stepped away.

“Why did you marry him? Why?”

“He’s your guardian, honey. Your aunt Marilla appointed him. Marriage was just… a formality. He only wants to protect you. Don’t forget—you’ll soon be Witch Supreme.”

“Oh, believe me, I haven’t forgotten,” I snapped. “But I’ll be damned if Alister or Aunt Marilla think they can control me once I come into power.”

I retreated to my room, showering to wash the filth of his touch from my skin. Wrapped in a robe, I studied my reflection. Platinum hair, violet eyes, a body both slender and curved. In weeks, I’d turn eighteen—and the rituals would awaken the rest of my powers. One requirement lingered over me like a curse: to lose my virginity.

Aunt Marilla didn’t care who did it; if it was done. Alister salivated at the chance. But I would choose.

My thoughts returned to the werewolf from the forest. Tall, carved in muscle, commanding the pack with raw dominance. When they shifted, the she-wolves circled him, eager for his attention. I hadn’t meant to stare so openly at his hardening length—but gods, he was glorious. Then his gaze snapped to mine. For a moment, I thought he saw me. We fled before he could confirm it, but I already knew. He would be the one.

---

A few weeks later, my friends and I lounged in the courtyard at the Hendrix Institute of Witchcraft. Deandra crunched cucumbers while Besa adjusted her knee-high boots. We bent the uniform rules with stockings, garters, and heels, making the black-and-white dress code our own.

“Think you can sneak away from Alister on your birthday?” Deandra asked.

“I always do.” I sipped my smoothie, smirking.

Lance and his cronies approached. He raked his blond hair back, trying for charm.

“Hey, Mindy,” he said huskily. His friends snickered.

“It’s Aminda,” I corrected coolly.

“Respect our future Supreme,” Besa added.

Lance held up his hands. “Peace. I came to invite you to a party at the Wicked Cauldron. On your birthday.”

“Really? How convenient.”

“You didn’t know? The High Court Coven declared the week a holiday in your honor. Celebrations everywhere. No party at your house?”

“Oh, there is,” I said, rolling my eyes. “A bunch of dusty witches pretending to be important. I’ll ditch it.”

“I could go to both,” I added, leaning closer. “If you do me a favor.”

His face lit up. “Anything, Aminda.”

“Make sure every supernatural hears of it. Especially the werewolves.”

He blinked. “The… werewolves? Why?”

“Because I want my birthday to be interesting. Or don’t you want me to have fun?” I dragged a finger along his jaw. He swallowed hard.

“Of course. Your wish is my command.”

He and his boys scurried off, tripping over themselves. Specter, Alister’s arrogant nephew, replaced them—towering, smirking.

“If you ever need help unlocking your powers, cousin,” he drawled, licking his lips, “family is always willing.”

“I’m done here.” I swept past him, my friends following.

---

The night of my eighteenth birthday, the mansion glittered with witches of the High Coven. Aunt Marilla, Alister, my mother, and my cousin Specter gathered for a lavish feast in my honor.

Alister’s eyes stalked me all night, but when Marilla dragged him off for a private talk, I slipped away to change.

A red dress clung to my curves, shimmering powder dusted across my skin, and my lips glossed with temptation. Tonight was still a full moon. The wolves would run—and then hunt for pleasure.

Guards patrolled the estate, but I’d long since mastered teleportation. With a puff, I vanished from my room and reappeared in the back seat of my friend’s car.

“Mother—!” Besa yelped. “You scared us, Aminda!”

I grinned. “Well, let’s go find some werewolves.”