chapter 0003

Marcus' POV

I sat under the full moon, the silver light pouring into my study through the wide-open balcony doors. The faint chill of the night air brushed against my skin as I swirled the amber liquid in my glass. A malicious smile curled on my lips as I tipped the glass, letting the burn of the liquor seep into my veins.

This wasn’t the life I was destined for. No, I was meant to be great—a king among wolves, ruling with strength and honor. Instead, here I was, exiled and cursed, all because of a betrayal so deep it still made my blood boil with anger.

I ran my fingers through my hair, staring at the moon as if it could offer some answers. Why me? The memory of that night—the night my life crumbled—was like a foggy dream, slipping through my grasp every time I tried to piece it together. They had accused me of killing a descendant of the Moon Goddess herself. Me, a loyal Alpha who had only ever sought to protect his pack.

But the evidence, or rather the lack of it, worked against me. They called me a murderer, a monster who had brought the wrath of the goddess upon us. The punishment was swift and merciless. Stripped of my title, my pack, my home—I was banished, cast out into the human world to live as a rogue.

I gritted my jaw, the glass cracking under the pressure of my grip. The Moon Goddess hadn’t just cursed me with exile. No, she had made sure I would suffer in ways that was unimaginable. Unable to touch a woman, unable to find my mate—I had wandered aimlessly for centuries, enduring a hollow existence.

Until her.

I laughed bitterly, the sound echoing around the balcony. Cassandra. A fragile little human. The irony was not lost on me that the same goddess who cursed me would choose someone so weak, so breakable, as the antidote.

And yet, on the night we spent together, something shifted. For the first time in centuries, I felt the curse loosen its grip. Her scent and her touch had awakened something dormant in me. But could I trust her? Was she truly the key to breaking this wretched curse, or was she just another cruel trick of fate? I desperately wanted her to be the person who would break me out of this curse.

I downed the rest of my drink and slammed the glass onto the table. “How the mighty have fallen,” I muttered to myself.

A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. My housekeeper stepped inside. She was an older woman who had long since learned to tread carefully around me.

She bowed her head slightly. “My lord, the girl is in her chamber.”

I smirked, rising to my feet. The alcohol made my movements slower, more deliberate. “Good,” I mumbled, brushing past her.

The silence of the hallway amplified the sound of my footsteps. I got to the very last door in the corridor, pushed It open and stopped in the doorway. There she was, lying on the bed, her chest rising and falling softly as she slept. Her dark red hair spilled over the pillow like a dark river, catching the faint glow of moonlight.

For a moment, I stood there, watching her. My wolf stirred within me, biting at the edges of my control. It had been centuries since I felt this kind of pull, this maddening desire.

I stepped closer, my hand trembling slightly as I reached out. My fingers grazed her arm. Her skin was impossibly soft under my touch. A low growl rumbled in my chest, but I forced it down, gritting my teeth against the primal urge to claim her.

And then she moved.

Her hand shot out, gripping my wrist with surprising strength. Her eyes snapped open, staring into mine. “What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded.

I smiled, leaning closer. “I came to spend the night with you. Accompany me.”

Her lips curled into a sneer, and she pushed my hand away. “Let me refresh your memory, in case you’ve conveniently forgotten. I’m only here because you threatened to ruin my life. This arrangement,” she spat the word like poison, “is strictly business. Don’t get any ideas.”

I chuckled, amused by her fire. “What if I do? What if I don’t stay in my lane, Cassandra?”

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I saw something flicker in them—something wild, almost feral. She sat up, the sheets pooling around her waist. “I’m warning you, Marcos. I’m not as weak as you think I am. Don’t push me.”

I tilted my head, intrigued. “You’re quite bold for someone in your position. But boldness won’t save you.”

She laughed dryly, shaking her head. “You really don’t get it, do you? I’m here for three months, and that’s it. After that, you’re nothing to me. I have a life, a boyfriend, a future that doesn’t involve you. So whatever game you’re playing, end it now. You won’t win.”

Muttering some angry words, she threw off the covers and stood to her feet. Her nightgown clung to her figure, and I couldn’t help but admire her confidence, even as she turned her back on me.

I watched her walk away, the door closing softly behind her. For a moment, I stayed where I was, letting a slow smile spread across my face.

“She’ll come around,” I murmured to myself, lying back on the bed. The faint scent of her lingered in the air, and I inhaled deeply, enjoying it.

The game was just beginning. And I always played to win.