LOGINElara has spent her entire life as nothing more than a shadow in the Bloodfang Pack. Born wolfless, she is considered cursed, lower than even the weakest omega. Beaten down, starved, and treated as a slave, her only goal is survival. Until the night she learns the unthinkable—she’s to be traded to a rival pack as part of a ruthless bargain. Alpha Kael of the Ironhide Pack is feared across the territories. Known for his unmatched strength and merciless rule, he is whispered about like a monster from the old tales. But Kael hides a secret of his own: he is cursed. His wolf is a savage, uncontrollable beast, and only a mate strong enough to bear his bloodline can break the darkness threatening to consume him. When Kael claims Elara, it’s not for love or kindness—it’s for power, for heirs, and for his pack’s survival. Torn from the only home she’s ever known, Elara enters a world even more dangerous than the one she left behind. Surrounded by enemies, she must navigate Kael’s harsh court, where loyalty is earned through blood and betrayal lurks in every shadow. But Kael is nothing like Garrick, and Elara soon realizes there is more to the feared Alpha than his brutal reputation. Underneath his icy control lies a man fighting against his curse—and fighting against the unexpected pull he feels toward the fragile, defiant omega he claimed. She was supposed to be a tool. He was supposed to be her captor. But when destiny intertwines their fates, Elara and Kael must decide whether their bond will be their salvation… or their destruction. The Cursed Alpha’s Wolfless Omega is a dark, slow-burn, fated-mates romance filled with danger, passion, and redemption.
View MoreKaelThe dawn breaks wrong.The light looks like morning, but the air smells like graves.I’ve run these borders since before my curse had a name, since before every tree here learned to lean away from my presence. But today, the forest leans from something else.The ground hums. Low. Uneven. Off.Lucian is crouched ahead, fingers pressed into a patch of frost that shouldn’t exist. The earth around it steams, dark and slick with something that looks like ash but moves like smoke.“This wasn’t here yesterday,” he mutters.“It wasn’t here three hours ago,” Ronin says from behind me, his tone grim. “And it’s spreading.”I kneel beside them. The frost hisses softly where my palm hovers above it — not from heat, but recognition. My wolf stirs like he’s trying to crawl out through my skin.Mine.No. Not ours. Not her.This is something older.The stench of blood magic is unmistakable — copper, rot, and old ink. But there’s something else underneath. Something cold and female, like breath on
UnknownI felt her breath before I heard her name again.It was like the world itself inhaled — a sudden, sharp intake that pulled through every leyline I’d ever touched, rattling the bones of my oldest work. The air sang with silver. The ground whispered her true name.Elara.The sound of it nearly split me open.Because she should have never existed again.I made certain of that.The first time I saw her, she was nothing more than a wailing infant — pale skin, black hair, eyes like starlight swallowed by storm. Beautiful, yes. But dangerous in the way prophecies are dangerous: unshaped, untested, and utterly beyond control.Her father was a king of wolves once — a Northern Alpha who carried royal blood in his veins and pride sharper than any blade. He built alliances like fortresses, bred loyalty like fire, and had the Moon’s favor.That was what made him dangerous.And Garrick’s father feared him for it.That old wolf came to me wrapped in desperation and power. He was not yet dyin
ElaraThe world feels different when you know where you come from.And when that truth comes wrapped in death, betrayal, and magic older than time — it doesn’t feel like belonging.It feels like breaking.I wake before the sun climbs over the hills. The air is heavy with the scent of dew and pine. Kael’s side of the bed is cold. He must have left hours ago, though the echo of his presence still clings to the room — the faint musk of his scent, the lingering warmth where his hand must’ve rested against the headboard.Sleep was impossible.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my father dying on his knees, shielding a cradle.My cradle.Me.I thought being an orphan meant I’d been forgotten.Now I know I was taken.I push the blankets aside and walk barefoot through the quiet halls. The guards at the end of the corridor bow their heads as I pass — hesitant, uncertain. I feel their eyes on me, but none speak. The silence between us is thick with unasked questions and quiet fear.The balcony
ElaraI don’t remember falling asleep again.One moment I was staring at the ceiling, heart pounding, the Moon Goddess’s voice echoing through my bones. The next, a blush of dawn stains the horizon outside the window — soft gold bleeding into the edges of night.Kael is awake already.He sits at the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, head bowed. The early light paints his back in amber and shadow, muscles tense, hair tousled like he fought demons in sleep.Maybe he did.Maybe I did too.I push myself up slowly. “Kael?”He doesn’t turn at first — he closes his eyes instead, jaw flexing like he’s fighting himself.Then he exhales and looks back at me.His gaze is hungry and haunted all at once, like he spent the night trying to build walls and tore every one down instead.“Elara.”Just my name, but it feels like a vow — and a surrender.“You said this morning.” His voice is low, rough. “You would tell me.”I nod. My heartbeat is too loud, too frantic. “I will.”His eyes searc
KaelTiberius shouldn’t have still been here.He should have left with the arrogance he walked in with — a northern wolf who thought himself made of prophecy and frost. But instead, after the formal audience, my guards found him waiting in the lower courtyard, hands clasped behind his back, face carved in unreadable stillness.As if he knew I would come.As if he’d been waiting.I approach him in silence. The night air is sharp, iron-cold, kissed by the moon. Warriors stand at the shadow-edges, pretending not to watch.But they feel it.Tension like steel wire.Fate like a drawn bow.Tiberius turns when I stop three steps away. “You didn’t send her.”“She needed rest.”And I needed to think without breathing her in. Without being undone by her every heartbeat.Tiberius studies me with that infuriating northern calm. “You brought her to the meeting. That alone speaks louder than any proclamation.”“She stays where I can protect her.”“And where the world may see her,” he murmurs. “The
ElaraI don’t sleep that night.Not really.I drift in and out, wrapped in the warmth of Kael’s scent, but peace never comes. Every time I close my eyes, I see silver light spilling from my skin, feel the echo of bones shifting, ancient power cracking through me like a shell breaking open.My wolf whispers in my mind — steady, calm, ancient.We were always more than we were allowed to be.And Kael…He lies beside me again.He pretends he’s dozing, breathing slow, arm resting above me on the pillow, but I feel the truth — the tension in him, the way he’s coiled like a hunter waiting for a threat. Or a man afraid of one.The secrets in my chest feel heavier than any stone.I should tell him.He deserves the truth.He deserves to know what he’s tied to.But the words don’t come.Because once I say them, I can’t ever be just Elara again.I become legacy.Threat.Heir.A piece on a board I never wanted to play.⸻Sometime past midnight, sleep finally drags me under.Darkness gathers first
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