Chapter 2

The world has changed over the years. Humans and werewolves now live side by side, bound by uneasy harmony and ancient laws. But peace built on secrets never lasts and mine is the darkest of all.

Alpha Davian, ruler of the Crescent Moon Pack and King of the werewolf realm. CEO of Blackfang Corporation. To his people, he is power, authority, and control. But beneath the surface, a curse burns through his veins, waiting for the right moment to destroy him from within.

It starts the same way every time heat crawls beneath his skin, rising until his blood feels like fire. His heart pounds as though trying to burst through his ribs. His body trembles, and his eyes blaze an unnatural shade of blue, and he can taste iron on the tongue.

I clenched my jaw and let out a low growl. “Not now,” I hissed to myself, gripping the edge of the bedpost until my knuckles turned white.

The pain came in waves, spreading from my chest to my throat, searing every inch of flesh it touched. I couldn’t stop the low cry that escaped my lips. “Ahh damn it!”

Just then, Joey, my most trusted man, rushed in. His scent carried the crisp air of the forest and the loyalty of a decade by my side.

“Alpha,” he said, bowing slightly, “the new she-wolves have arrived. The high priestess sent them herself. You should come take a look.”

I forced a deep breath, feeling the fire slowly die down. The curse had subsided for now, leaving only exhaustion and a dull ache behind my eyes.

“Fine,” I muttered. “Give me a minute.”

I reached for the dark robe lying across my chair, pulled it around my body, and tied the belt firmly at my waist. Joey waited silently by the door, ever patient.

“Let’s go,” I said when I was finally composed enough to stand tall again.

The hallway outside my chamber was lit by flickering torches. Shadows danced across the stone walls as we walked toward the ceremonial hall. The air smelled of pine and incense.

When I entered, the high priestess was already waiting, her face half-covered with a black veil. In front of her stood five young she-wolves, each cloaked in silver robes, their heads bowed in respect.

“Alpha Davian,” the high priestess greeted, her voice calm but weary. “These are the five she-wolves born under the full moon. Each from a different pack, each chosen by the sacred signs.”

I nodded, lowering myself onto the carved oak chair at the head of the room.

“Turn around,” I commanded. “And take off your robes.”

They hesitated, glancing at each other before obeying. One by one, the robes fell to the floor, revealing smooth skin, trembling shoulders, and fearful eyes. I searched each of them carefully, looking for the one mark that mattered the Polaris birthmark, the mark of my fated mate.

But none of them had it.

“Enough,” I snapped, the sound echoing across the hall. “Everyone, out!”

The high priestess and the girls scrambled to grab their robes, their feet barely touching the ground as they fled the room. Only the priestess dared to stay behind, her hands clasped nervously before her.

“I’m running out of time,” I said quietly, turning to her. My voice carried more power than I intended. “I’ll be thirty in three weeks. You know what that means.”

She lowered her head. “We will find her, Alpha. The Moon Goddess will not…. And you would find your fated mate before…”

“Before what?” I cut her off sharply. “Before I die from this curse?”

Her silence was answer enough. I stepped closer until I could see her pulse racing beneath her throat.

“Find me my fated mate,” I growled. “Or start carving your own coffin.”

I didn’t wait for her reply. I turned and strode out of the hall, my boots striking hard against the stone floor. Anger burned hotter than the curse itself.

Three weeks. That’s all I had left before the curse consumed me completely.

Later that day, as the moon climbed high above the pack house, whispers drifted through the servants’ quarters.

“I thought Alpha Davian brought us here for well, you know… an orgy or something,” one of the she-wolves murmured.

“Don’t be stupid,” another hissed. “If he wanted to bed she-wolves, he wouldn’t pick you.”

“Still,” a third whispered, “isn’t it strange? He’s brought hundreds of girls here, and none ever speak of what happens inside that hall. He makes them take off their robes, stares at our ass, and then sends all of us away. Something’s wrong with him.”

They didn’t know I could hear every word. My senses were sharper than any human’s, sharper even than most wolves’. Their gossip cut deeper than they realised, but I didn’t blame them. To them, I was a mystery, a cold, cursed Alpha obsessed with the moon and haunted by something none of them could understand.

“But I managed to only smile.”

Then I heard my phone buzzing on the table. I snatched it up.

“I’m on my way,” I said curtly, ending the call before the voice on the other end could respond.

I quickly dressed in a black tailored suit, white shirt, and polished boots. My fingers slipped on the cufflinks, but I managed. I slid my silver wristwatch into place and glanced at my reflection once more.

Alpha Davian.

To the world, I looked untouchable tall, broad-shouldered, every inch a predator wrapped in human skin. My hair curled just enough to look carelessly perfect, and my eyes, an unnatural shade of blue, could make even the bravest warrior flinch.

“But beneath that strength lay a ticking clock.”

Joey entered just as I adjusted my collar.

“Should I accompany you, Alpha?” he asked, as he always did.

I shook my head. “No. I’ll handle this one myself. I won’t stay for long.”

He nodded respectfully, though I saw the concern flash in his eyes. “As you wish.”

What the fuck are you doing here?

I asked the she-wolves still standing at my chamber; I guess they were not ready to leave.

They all couldn't answer my question.

Get the fuck out of here you all. “I said.”

They all rushed out without even looking back.

I left my chamber, the echo of my footsteps following me down the long corridor. The guards at the entrance bowed low as I passed, and I caught the faint scent of steel and wolfblood in the air.

Outside, my car waited at the base of the stone steps a black Aston Martin DB11, sleek, powerful, and quiet enough to glide like a shadow.

I opened the door and slid behind the wheel. I never let anyone drive me; I trusted no one enough for that. With a twist of the key, the engine came to life, purring like a beast beneath my control.

As I pulled out of the pack house gates.

“Three weeks left.”

I pressed harder on the accelerator, the engine roaring as I sped down the lonely mountain road.

Somewhere out there, my fated mate lived unaware that her soul was bound to mine. Unaware that my death would tear the balance between humans and werewolves apart. Unaware that the curse of the Alpha King would soon demand its price.

And the worst part?

“I only have three weeks to find my mate.”