The Alpha'sCurse

What in the world is that scent?

It wasn't unpleasant, Heather mused as she slowly regained consciousness, her eyelids too heavy to open. Still, it was definitely out of place in her bed. Even through the haze of sleep, her mind registered three things. First, the scent belonged to a person and it was utterly captivating: a mix of fresh pine, rain-soaked earth, and cedar wood. Second, the scent was unmistakably masculine. And third, the man behind it was a wolf shifter, just like her.

Heather Guerre didn't invite random men into the pack house, no matter how intoxicating their scent was.

With some effort, she managed to pry one eye open, glancing at the empty space beside her, confirming her suspicion the mysterious man was gone. She shifted her head, which felt strangely heavy, and attempted to check the time only to discover her alarm clock was gone. So was her bedside table. And the soft sheets she was lying on? Definitely not hers.

She shot upright, cursing under her breath. She wasn't in her room. In fact, she wasn't even in her house. Her gaze swept over the space, taking in the luxurious surroundings and then froze when she realized she was in what seemed to be a cave.

But this was no primitive, crude hideaway. The light sandstone walls were smooth and polished, broken only by a few alcoves acting as shelves. The plush beige carpet on the floor was incredibly soft. A large wardrobe and a dresser, both crafted from dark oak, stood against the wall, matching the platform bed's headboard. The bed was nestled beneath a carved stone arch, blending effortlessly into the cave.

Though the bed was enormous, it still had a surprisingly cozy feel. Just… not cozy enough to make this strange situation pleasant.
Her wolf instincts were on high alert, but she didn't feel fear or panic. Heather let out a dry chuckle. Her ridiculous wolf didn't even have the sense of worrying about waking up in an unfamiliar place, a literal cave, no less with no recollection of how she ended up there. Sometimes, being a latent wolf has its perks.

Maybe she went out with Shasha and ended up crashing at some guy's place? But that didn't seem right. She couldn't recall making any plans to go out, let alone actually following through with them. Plus, as the pack's healer, she was always on call. Getting drunk was never an option. Not to mention, she was still fully dressed in casual clothes, certainly not what she wore for a night out and there was no trace of intimacy in the air or on the sheets.

What was the last thing she remembered? Despite the fog in her mind, she could clearly recall heading to the internet café around noon. But actually getting there? Nothing. Sure, she had a tendency to forget small details of what she jokingly called her NRS Syndrome (Never Remembers Shit) but this was different. This was a complete blank in her memory.

She inhaled deeply, trying to focus on the lingering scents in the air. Apart from herself and the alluring male wolf from earlier, there were two others, a male and a female. Both were wolf shifters she didn't recognize. One thing was certain: she wasn't in the clutches of Alpha Seb, the bastard who couldn't care less about her desires when it came to being claimed. Her father didn't care either, too consumed with political alliances to notice how he used his daughter as a pawn.

And not because he was desperate. He already had more than enough alliances. No, it was something deeper. As a latent, Heather was a blemish on his legacy, a flaw in what he saw as a flawless bloodline. He resented her mere existence. To him, she was a weakness, a crack in the illusion of his perfection. If she were to vanish without a trace, he wouldn't lift a finger to look for her. She doubted he even bothered to put her face on a milk carton.

Her gaze shifted to the beige curtains on the far side of the room. She threw the covers off, pushing herself upright. A sudden wave of dizziness hit, and she steadied herself as the room spun briefly.

"Great," she muttered.

What was going on with her? She staggered toward the curtains, her movements awkward and slow, and pulled them apart. Behind them was a bay window locked, naturally. From the lighting, it was clear it wasn’t morning anymore. It looked more like late afternoon. Did that mean she had only been here a few hours? Or had she just slept the day away?

Her eyes widened as she took in the view. Most packs had lavish lodges, often surrounded by cabins. Some even built on cliffs. But this? This wasn’t just on a cliff, it was a cliff. Arched balconies radiated with soft lighting, and winding staircases led to different levels. It was like a fusion of ancient cave homes and a high-end version of the Stones Bedrock, only a lot more sophisticated.
Seriously… what. The. Hell?

Below her, Heather saw expansive grasslands, followed by an endless stretch of forest. So, apparently, she was hidden deep within a vast cave system in the middle of nowhere. She heard of caves being transformed into homes or boutique hotels, but she never imagined they could look this sleek and cozy. Her gut told her she was still somewhere in California, but given how remote this place was, getting home would likely cost a small fortune. Fortunately for her, her apparent captor seemed to have plenty of money. Not that she had her purse. Naturally.

If this was some elaborate joke, it was completely lost on her.

She smoothed her unruly, indecisive blonde hair, swaying as she made her way to the door. Normally, she might have been more cautious, but the dizziness, frustration, and confusion kept her from caring. Besides, if these wolves had meant her harm, they probably wouldn’t have tucked her into such an unbelievably comfortable bed in a luxurious room.

She grabbed the door handle and yanked it. Locked. Of course.

Hey! She called, pounding her fist against the door.

Silence.

Hellooooooo! Still nothing.

Perfect. She was trapped in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by strange shifters, and apparently locked in. Fantastic. Now her wolf was pissed. Shifters hated being confined. It made them anxious, irritated, and ready to fight.

Hello! This is your captive speaking! Open the damn door!

A low chuckle drifted through the door just before a key turned in the lock. The door creaked open,

Revealing a wall of muscle. Heather blinked. Correcting a mountain of muscle in human form. Another shifter, and definitely male. She had to tilt her head back, way back to look up at him.

She raised an eyebrow at his cocky, confident smirk, wondering what exactly he found so amusing.

Youre awake. Good,he said.

And which giant are you supposed to be?she shot back. It wasn't exactly the time for jokes, but sarcasm was her go-to, especially when she was annoyed.

His grin grew wider. The Alpha wants to speak with you.

And who exactly is that?

With a wink, he said," Follow me.

She rolled her eyes at his cocky swagger and reluctantly followed him down a winding tunnel that led deeper into the mountain. As they passed various offshoots, she realized this place was an intricate labyrinth of passageways like some oversized, luxurious ant colony. Like her room, the tunnel walls were smooth, creamy stone that somehow had a soft, almost padded look to them. Her wolf was restless, stirred by the unfamiliar scents, practically begging her to explore.

Mind telling me where I am?she asked.

All in good time, he replied, his voice slow and lazy.

And how exactly did I end up here?she pressed, irritation edging into her voice.
The Alpha will explain.

She let out a frustrated growl, but instead of taking it seriously, he only seemed more entertained.

After a moment, they reached a large, dark door. The hulking man in front of her opened it and motioned for her to step inside. The room beyond was a sprawling, open kitchen, sleek, modern, with oak cabinets, dark marble counter tops, and shining platinum appliances. A long oak dining table occupied the center, surrounded by several male wolf shifters.

As she entered, every set of eyes turned toward her, and the group parted, giving her an unobstructed view of the man sitting at the head of the table.

Her heart sank.

No. It couldn't be. Killian Hayes.

Now she was certain she hadn't come here on her own. Even if she had gone out, gotten drunk, and passed out, there was no way she would forget ending up in his space. Killian Hayes wasn't just a name, he was a legend. A nightmare. A walking weapon. His reputation was as lethal as it was unpredictable, and his presence commanded both fear and respect.

No amount of alcohol could make her forget the stories. Rumor had it that when he was just fourteen, he'd challenged his own father, an Alpha, and nearly killed him. Fourteen. Instead of stepping into the Alpha role, he'd been cast out. The fallout had torn his pack apart, and those who stood by him left, forming their own faction and carving out their own territory through violent battles. He hadn't lost a single one. Most likely because his wolf went absolutely savage when it mattered.

And now here she was. In his domain. Brilliant. The universe was clearly playing a joke on her.

You'd think that being in the presence of someone with a reputation for being a loose cannon would make her wolf uneasy, especially since Heather was feeling more than a little rattled under the surface. But no. Her wolf? Oh, she was practically purring, the scent from earlier lingering in her senses, unmistakably his. Traitor.

Sure, Heather could admit reluctantly that the psycho was undeniably attractive. His piercing, ice-blue eyes and permanent scowl only amplified the whole dangerously hot vibe. His t-shirt clung to his powerful frame, broad shoulders, muscular arms, and a chest she couldn't ignore. He looked like he belonged in a warrior film. Normally, the whole bad boy appeal didn't do anything for her, but... she couldn't deny it.

Worse, there was this raw energy radiating from him dominating, intense. He wore authority like it was tailor-made for him. And then there were his eyes... hot, predatory, locked entirely on her. It should've unsettled her, but instead, it sent a surge of heat coursing through her. Her wolf actually growled in approval.

Wonderful. Looks like she was developing a severe case of Syndrome.

Still, no matter how attractive he was, there was no way she was giving in not like all the other women who probably threw themselves at him. Her body and her wolf might be responding, but she wasn't about to let them control her. She dealt with dominant, emotionally distant men before helloing Dad, and she wasn't impressed.

So, instead of backing down, Heather returned Killian's intense gaze with one of her own. Latent or not, she was still an Alpha, and she wasn't about to back down.

Killian studied her with interest. She was supposed to be latent, small, disconnected from her pack, essentially an easy target. But she wasn't behaving like prey. There was no fear in her scent, none in her eyes either. Just pure, unfiltered rage. Interesting. He was so accustomed to the scent of fear that its absence was unsettling.

What didnt unsettle him? The undeniable, primal need pulsing through his body. She wasn't the type of beauty who turned heads at first glance, but there was something about her, an effortless charm that drew him in. Slender, but with curves that got his imagination going. And that mouth full, sinful, and currently set in a firm, furious line was perfect for more than just words.
Still, no fear. Maybe she didn't know who he was.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked.

Heather rolled her eyes. How about we skip the whole scary Alpha bit, and you just tell me how I got here and why the hell I'm here at all, Hayes?

That name dropped like a bomb, causing the entire room to freeze. An oppressive silence fell, thick with tension. Clearly, they were all waiting for him to lose his cool. But Heather? She was done with dominant, controlling men. Done with exes who thought her being latent made her weak. Done with a father willing to trade her off to a sleazy Alpha for political points. Done with said sleazy Alpha biting her without consent, convinced he'd claimed her.

And now this lunatic had dragged her here without a word. She was done being polite.

Killian, on the other hand, found her spark amusing. People usually tread carefully around him even before his brutal reputation. His grandmother always claimed it was his permanent scowl and the Alpha energy that radiated off him like a cloud.

But this woman? She didn't flinch. Didnt cower. Didn't even blink at the intensity of his gaze. In fact, she met it head-on, matching his stare.

Damn. She might be latent, but she wasn't weak. His wolf liked that.

She had backbone. Probably a hell of a temper too.

He took a long, deliberate breath, savoring her scent. Big mistake. The intoxicating combination of coconut, lime, and pineapple hit him like a freight train and shot straight to his core. His wolf growled in approval, eager for more.

Why don't you sit down?he said, gesturing toward the chair across from him. This attraction could work in his favor if she went along with his plan.

Heather wanted to refuse. Badly. But that would make her look intimidated and she wasn't about to give him that satisfaction. So, she sat, chin lifted.

So, she demanded. Are you going to explain what the hell is going on, or do you just enjoy pissing women off?

Kilian's voice, rough and commanding, slid over her like velvet and gravel. It shouldn't have affected her, but it did.

My Beta and Head Enforcer brought you here a few hours ago.

She blinked. Wait what? Why? How did they even get me to come with them?

"They drugged you," he replied nonchalantly.

Her jaw dropped. Excuse me?

At the café, he said with a casual shrug. Once the sedative took effect while you were on your way home, Desmond and Sam scooped you up and brought you here.

The towering man, Desmond, apparently chimed in. If it makes you feel any better, you put up one hell of a fight before the sedative knocked you out. He lifted his shirt to reveal red, jagged marks across his chest.
Her marks.

Even though she was latent, she could partially shift and, apparently, she did a number on him. Strangely, he didn't seem angry, just mildly entertained.

Wildcat might be an understatement, said the other guy Sam, probably. He was tall, lean, with dark hair, more her usual type. But her wolf wasn't interested in him. She was still fixated on the dangerous one across from her.
The psycho.

And, unfortunately... She kind of liked him too.

What exactly is the purpose of this little drug and kidnap the female wolf operation? Her tone made it clear no explanation would ease her anger.

Killian couldn't help but smile inwardly. She would be perfect for his plans. But to be sure, he'd needed to spin a few fibs to test her reactions and confirm his suspicions about her potential mate bond. Seb Williams.

Her wolf growled at the mention of his name. What about him?

He has something I need. Something he owes me.

Ah, so now you think you have something he wants and you're making a trade? A sinking feeling settled in her stomach. She had a hunch she had just stepped into the middle of some alpha political maneuvering.

You're not so much a bargaining chip as you are a reminder that he owes me, and I'm not one to wait patiently.

And she wasn't the patient type either. Nor did she appreciate being drugged and abducted. But who cared about that? People often mistook her for being fragile and easily intimidated, but they couldn't be more wrong. Look, maybe in your world, its fine to drug and kidnap someone, but in mine, it's not.

You can leave as soon as Seb gets here.

That wasn't exactly reassuring. Part of her wanted to protest, but she knew it would only end with her locked in that room again, which would drive both her and her wolf insane. Besides, it was best to stay close to her enemies. Have you called him yet?
"He'll be here soon," he lied. He hadn't reached out to Seb, and he had no intention of doing so.

Can the prisoner get a coffee then?she asked nonchalantly.

Apart from the psycho, Desmond, and Sam, four other men were present: one with a scowl and a military haircut, another handsome with caramel skin and blonde hair, a tall guy with messy dark curls and a wide grin, and a burly man with claw marks on his cheek. She mentally nicknamed them Grumpy, Blondie, Smiley, and Burly.

None of the wolves, except Desmond, seemed pleased by her presence. They probably weren't fans of her father. Not many were. Even the one with the big grin seemed more intrigued than friendly. Her father's arrogance and ruthless attitude earned him both allies and enemies, but most of his allies were just in it for power.

Killian gestured to Marcus, who immediately turned on the coffee machine and grabbed a mug. Killian tilted his head slightly, eyeing her thoughtfully. You're not what I expected.

Really?she replied flatly.

Seb usually goes for airheads and submissives.

Despite her blonde appearance, she had a sharp, intelligent look in her eyes. Funny how your true mate can be the complete opposite of your usual type.

"He's not my true mate, she snapped before she could stop herself.