The Cursed Alpha Virgin Bride のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

The darkness was heavy, but for the first time in years, it wasn't cold. It was a living, breathing weight that wrapped around me like a shield. I was floating in a haze of sleep, drifting on a sea of cedar and ozone. Something hard and warm was pressed against my back, a furnace of body heat that seeped through my thin shirt. A heavy arm was draped possessively over my waist, pulling me flush against a solid chest. My Inner Wolf, usually a vigilant sentry, was practically purring in the back of my mind. Mate, she sighed, curling up in the warmth. Safe. I nuzzled backward instinctively, seeking more of that intoxicating heat. A low rumble groan vibrated against my spine a sound of deep, unconscious contentment. Then, the world shattered. BANG. BANG. BANG. The pounding on the door echoed like gunshots. Draven"! Whitmore! Are you in there?" Althea's shrill voice pierced the sanctuary of the room. "I need to speak to you! It's urgent!" The arm around my waist tightened violently, not

By the time I returned to the mansion, the sky had already darkened into a dull shade of gray. Evening shadows stretched across the large stone walls of the Shadowclaw estate, making the place feel colder than it already was. I paused at the iron gates for a moment, hesitating before stepping inside. This place was supposed to be my home now but every time I walked through those doors, it felt more like a prison. The guards at the entrance barely spared me a glance, their eyes following me for only a second before returning to their posts. To them, I was nothing more than the unwanted bride the pack had delivered. Not Luna. Not family. Just an obligation they had been forced to accept. I pushed the heavy doors open and stepped into the mansion. A few servants moved quietly through the hallways, finishing the last of their duties. The long corridors were dimly lit by chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling, their golden light reflecting against the polished marble floors. My footst

The shutter clicked for the final time, signaling the end of the shoot. The studio crew let out a collective breath they seemed to have been holding for hours. Andrew Cuomo however, didn't rush to the changing room. Instead, he bounded off the set, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat from his neck as he made a beeline for me. "Dinner," Andrew announced, his amber eyes sparkling with an intensity that made several female assistants swoon. "You. Me. The finest steakhouse in the city. My treat. Consider it a tiny down payment on the life debt I owe you." The murmurs in the room ceased. Everyone, including a seething Ingrid, watched with bated breath. A Beta heir from a powerful Pack asking a lowly assistant out? It was unheard of. I closed the file in my hands with a sharp snap. "I'm afraid I have to decline, Mr. Cuomo. My shift isn't over, and I have a mountain of paperwork waiting on the executive floor." Andrew's face fell, resembling a kicked puppy. "Come on, Aurora. You're not ser

in private? You haven't marked me, Draven . There is no bite on my neck. No bond in our minds. Until you put your mark on me, do not presume to dictate who I can hug." His gaze dropped to the bare curve of my neck. For a second, the rage in his eyes faltered, replaced by a hunger so raw it made my breath hitch. His nostrils flared, inhaling deeply, and I knew he was trying to find my scent beneath Andrew's. But then the light turned green, and the moment shattered. He faced forward, jaw clenched tight enough to snap steel, and floored the gas. We didn't speak for the rest of the drive. The Shadowclaw Pack's annual Unity Gala was in full swing by the time we arrived. The grand ballroom was a sea of silk dresses and tuxedos, the air vibrating with the chatter of the elite.Draven abandoned me the moment we stepped through the double doors, storming off toward the bar without a backward glance. Fine by me. I made my way to the powder room to compose myself. The encounter in the car had le

The air in the ballroom had shifted. The awe inspired by Beta Elias Vance’s departure was quickly being repurposed by the desperate. I watched from the rim of my champagne glass as Kirsten Matthews gathered a court of sycophants near the chocolate fountain. She was recovering from her humiliation at the piano with the resilience of a cockroach. "Oh, it was breathtaking," Kirsten’s voice carried, shrill and performative. She flipped her blonde hair, ensuring the light caught her diamond earrings. "When I visited the Nightveil territory last spring, Alpha Kutcher Holloway and his son personally gave me a tour of the gardens. He’s quite charming, really. We had tea in the solar. He mentioned that our pack alliances were… promising." A group of Omega females gasped in admiration, hanging on her every fabricated word. My Inner Wolf snorted in disgust. Grandfather hasn't had tea in the solar since grandmother died. And he certainly wouldn't entertain a stray cat like her, let alone a