Familial Bond Short Stories & Alpha Biological Family Novels

I was diagnosed with late stage the Hollowing—Wolf Soul Degeneration. According to the Compatible Soul Restructuring Program, I could survive by receiving a soul transplant. If no match were found, I would be brain-dead in three months. After more than two months of waiting, the soul that matched me best was given away by my mate to my sister. The therapist recommended that I keep waiting for a new match, but I refused. I signed a treatment waiver and left Central Medical Center early. All the wealth and resources I had spent years saving—I gave every last bit to my sister, Lisa. For the first time, during the full moon family dinner, my parents smiled at me. My mate moved into Lisa’s room to take care of her. I did not get angry. I even made him breakfast. Even when my little pup asked if she could be his mom, I nodded and said yes. I gave them everything they wanted. So why are they regretting it now? …

Our family road trip ended in a cliffside plunge. The Moon Goddess told us that to survive, we must enter the werewolf world and conquer the cruelest Alpha in existence. Only by obtaining the Alpha’s "Token of the Blood Oath" could our family be reborn. My cousin Chloe, brimming with confidence, chose the identity of the "Savior." She attempted to replicate the "White Moonlight"—the lost love—from the Alpha's memories. Meanwhile, the "Spectators" from this world were blowing up the chat stream: "This family is interesting. Much smarter than the last batch." "As long as one of them gets the Token, they all resurrect. I’m betting on the blonde hottie." "For sure. The way that Alpha looks at her? His favorability is already maxed out." Just when we thought victory was in the bag, the next day brought devastating news. The first batch of family members who entered the instance were wiped out. And Cousin Chloe died the most gruesome death of them all. The tone of the chat instantly shifted to mockery and ridicule: "LMAO. Did they really think this was some fluffy romance novel? That’s the Rogue King who crawled out of a pile of corpses." "Forget his 'White Moonlight.' He wouldn't hesitate to kill his own Fated Mate."

When my stepsister, Kate Lawrence, is poisoned at the full moon ceremony, my father, Jack Blackwood, condemns me at once, convinced that I am the one behind it. He clamps silver chains around me and drags me into the manor's dark underground cell. His eyes burn hatefully as he snarls, "You wretch! How could I have a daughter like you? Rot in here!" I drop to my knees on the cold floor and try to explain, but the sentence he throws over his shoulder as he turns away snuffs out the last of my hope. "Even if she dies in there, no one shall go in! Whoever lets her out will die with her!" The cell severs the mind-link completely, so no one hears me screaming. Seven days later, he finally remembers me, not knowing that I'd already died on the fourth day when the silver burned through to the bone.

When Julia and I were born, the Moon Goddess made a prophecy that one of us would die on our sixteenth birthday. Because Julia suffered from Wolf Wasting Syndrome, everyone believed she would be the one to die. From that day on, all the love and attention went to Julia. Every year, she was the center of our birthday celebration. Every new dress was made for her. When we were both kidnapped by rogues, she was the one Mom and Dad rushed to save first. It hurt me to watch her life slowly slipping away, but at the same time, I envied her for having all of our parents' love. Then came our sixteenth birthday. Afraid that I would ruin Julia's final birthday celebration, Mom and Dad locked me in the dungeon. No one knew that wolfsbane fumes still lingered in the dungeon. The poison tore through my body with unbearable pain. I dragged myself to the dungeon door and begged through the agony, "Mom, it hurts so much. Please let me out. I promise I won't ruin Julia's birthday..." Mom ignored my plea and snapped angrily, "Julia only has today left, and you're still lying just to steal our attention? If you're going to behave like such a horrible child, I wish you were the one destined to die in the prophecy instead!" My face went pale as I slowly lowered my hand and stopped calling for help. Outside the dungeon, Mom and Dad thought I had finally realized I was wrong. They quickly coaxed Julia away from the cold, damp place. Inside, my consciousness slowly faded until I stopped breathing altogether.

I was born broken. My Alpha mother was the one who branded me. She said emotion was a sin. A weakness. Especially for a werewolf. Especially for an Alpha’s heir. The day we were born, she clamped emotion-suppressing collars around our necks. Mine and my twin sister's. The slightest flicker of emotion, and the collar flashed red. My mother would then push the button, injecting me with a diluted "silver solution" to suppress my feelings. But my sister Cassia's collar? Always a calm, steady blue. Even when she shattered Mom's precious moonstone, it just pulsed gently. And me? I’d just whisper, "Mom, the thunder scares me," and my collar would erupt in a violent red. Then came the sting of silver poison burning through my blood.. I used to argue. But Mom always said the same thing. "The data doesn't lie. Pain is a teacher. This is for your own good." After thousands of these injections, I started to believe it, too. That I was born out of control. The night of the alliance's Moon Goddess Festival, Mom was taking my sister to the rooftop party. Something scared me during the day. The collar flashed red, and my mother started the punishment. But this time, the collar malfunctioned. It shot a dose a thousand times stronger into my neck. I collapsed on the carpet, begging, "Mother, the collar... it hurts so much... help me." My collar was flashing a frantic red. My mother just looked down at me, drenched in a cold sweat, and pressed the button for the maximum dose. "You'd lose control like this just for attention? You're a lost cause." She turned, took my sister, and slammed the door. I couldn't help but think, Mom must be right. The collar is red. It doesn't really hurt. I'm just being dramatic, looking for pity again. I'm sorry, Mom. In my next life, I'll be the perfect daughter you always wanted.

Before our mating ceremony, my mate, Pavel Blackwell, took me and my older sister, Vivienne, out for seafood. The server recognized them and came over smiling. "The usual for you two?" Pavel nodded. He slid into the seat beside Vivienne without a second thought. The crab came out of the steamer, and he cracked the shell open piece by piece and passed the meat to her. I had been put at a spare chair shoved into the aisle, without so much as a dish of sauce in front of me. Halfway through the meal, the server appeared with a couples' silverware set. "Pavel, Vivienne, this is your hundredth visit to us. That means you get your custom set." A line was engraved on the back of each piece. "Pavel and Vivienne. Never apart." The earliest date on the record was three years ago today. It took me a moment to place the date. That was the day a severe allergic reaction sent me into surgery and I nearly didn't make it out. So for the three hours my life hung in the balance, Pavel had not been waiting outside that door at all. Vivienne ran a finger over the engraving and gave a mischievous smile. "Pavel, once you and my little sister are mated, she won't stop you from going out with me, will she?" Pavel ruffled her hair and turned to look at me. "Of course not. She's always been reasonable. "Besides, you and I have known each other for ten years. Ashlyn and I have only known we were fated mates for four. If it bothers her, she can learn to live with it." On the way back, I got into the back seat on my own. The front seat had always belonged to Vivienne. Then the car's voice assistant chimed in. "Welcome aboard, Vivienne! Pavel will get you home safely!" I watched the scenery stream past the window, and suddenly I was tired of all of it. So I took out my phone and sent my father a message. "I agree to the pack's arranged mating." Ten years of closeness had turned the two of them into a habit. Then let me be the one to quit mine. Four years of it.