Too Curvy For The Crown
I had two rules: keep my head down and never want what I couldn't have.
I broke both the night I was sent to serve at the Alpha King's mating tournament.
I wasn't a guest or a candidate. I was the fat omega carrying trays, told to stay invisible. Then a predator cornered me, forced something down my throat, and when I ran, I crashed into Alaric Thorne, the Lycan Alpha King.
His drink had been drugged. My body was burning. When the mate bond snapped into place, neither of us could resist.
By morning, he looked at my body, my rank, and told me to leave.
He claimed me anyway, not out of love, but because abandoning his fated mate would disgrace the crown. He gave me a title and a room. Viv