The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate

Donovan was fighting to suppress the fury clawing its way up from the depths of his heart. More than anything, he couldn’t wait to uncover the whole truth.

Who the true bearer really was, if his father had a twin, and whether he was truly alive because the true bearer made it possible for him. His greatest mistake had been striking a bargain with the devil as a child, and it was a choice that had cursed him with the countless dark runes etched into his skin.

He had been willing to shoulder the burden of the curse for everyone’s sake, but somewhere along the way, he had lost sight of why he had chosen such a path. But now, as his memories resurfaced, he could recall why he went ahead with it.

Esme’s father had promised to spare his pack, as long as they never became the very thing his own father had turned into. Back then, he believed he could endure all the pain, that he was strong enough to bear the weight of it all as long as it saved his people. But it had been a deception from the start. The true bearer knew about his weakness and seized the opportunity to break him completely by offering that bargain.

Every curse he absorbed chipped at his resistance to defy it, leaving him vulnerable to the true bearer’s control. If Esme hadn’t intervened in time, he would have been lost completely. But the price she had to pay for saving a nobody like him was steep. She sacrificed her healing abilities to save him, and there was sadly nothing he could do to get it back for her.

That was another guilt he carried. However, his thoughts fractured when a sharp flick landed on his forehead. Blinking out of his brooding, he looked up, only to find Esme standing before him.

"Why do you have that look on your face?" Esme asked, her sharp gaze catching the fleeting frown that crossed his features before he smoothed it away.

She sighed, folding her arms. "You shouldn’t keep dwelling in the past, Don. If you do, you’ll never truly be able to move on from it. And before you say it— because I know you will— you are not to blame for everything that has happened. We’ve all made our share of mistakes, but what truly matters is how we move beyond them, how we choose to grow from them. You always tell me things like this, but you don’t seem to heed them yourself. How will things get better if you remain stuck in the past? Come on now."

Reaching out, Esme offered her hand. Donovan hesitated for only a second before a small smile tugged at his lips. He took her hand, his grip warm and steady as he rose to his full height. The difference in their stature forced Esme to tilt her head back slightly to meet his eyes, and she instinctively took a step back.

"If you don’t mind," she continued, her tone more casual now. "I’d like to accompany you to the shores of Mariana. I’ve never had the opportunity to visit the neighboring realm, and surely, it would be worth the experience, wouldn’t it?"

Donovan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached out, his hand landing atop her head in an affectionate pat. "If you wish to come, then you’re welcome to. I’ll inform Leonardo," he said simply. "But as of now, Lothario and I have other matters to tend to regarding the Damned, since we’ve left Neville in charge. So I’ll see you later. Do let me know what Dahmer’s test result says when you get it, okay?"

Before Esme could respond, he cupped her face gently, his touch lingering for a moment before he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. Then, without another word, he turned and strode the door.

As he walked away, his fingers unconsciously brushed against the small box concealed within the folds of his coat.

’With so much going on, will there ever be a right time to give this to her?’ he wondered, exhaling quietly. Just the thought of it sent his heartbeat racing. He was nervous, and he couldn’t even deny that fact.

Esme, meanwhile, remained where she was, her gaze fixed on his retreating form until he disappeared from view. A slow, mischievous smile curved her lips as an idea took root in her mind, and without hesitation, she pivoted on her heel and made her way in the opposite direction.

As the sun dipped toward the horizon, casting a golden glow over the land, Donovan finally concluded his work with Lothario and Revana. Now, in the quiet solitude of his private study, he eased into the couch, shifting to find a comfortable position. He had barely settled when he became aware of a familiar presence– one he had sensed even before the soft creak of the door. His gaze flicked toward the woman approaching him, drawn to the graceful figure of Esme.

The evening air was cool and unusually still, yet she was draped in a heavy cloak that swept along the floor, concealing her entirely. Something about it struck him as odd.

"Are you going somewhere?" he asked as she stopped beside his desk, her eyes drifting over the scattered pages of his work. His sharp gaze caught the way her hands had tightened around the fabric of her cloak, as if she were holding it close with deliberate care. His brow lifted in silent question.

"No," she murmured, and her lashes batted frantically, a gesture that only made his suspicion grow further. "I see you’re busy. I’ll just take my leave—"

"Hold on."

Before she could turn away, Donovan was already rising from the couch. His movements were swift and fluid as he cut off her escape before she could even take another step. As he closed the distance between them, Esme turned around to find him standing before her, his presence unmistakably close. A sharp breath caught in her throat, and she instinctively stepped back.

"What are you hiding, hm?" Donovan’s voice was a low, knowing drawl as he arched a brow at the cloak draped around her shoulders. "I know it gets cold here, but the house is warm enough. Unless, of course, you were planning to leave?"

He stepped forward again, trying to close the space between them, but Esme instinctively moved back until the edge of his desk pressed against her hips. Her heart pounded as he loomed over her, his presence an intoxicating mix of command and curiosity. His eyes flickered with something intense, as though he could read her like an open book.

"Show me." His words weren’t a request. They were challenging, edged with unmistakable anticipation.

But Esme hesitated. "Hm?"

A slow, taunting smile curled at his lips as he mimicked her in a teasing murmur. "Hm?" His voice was rich with amusement, yet there was something else in it that sent a rush of heat through her. "Or shall I do the honors myself?"

Esme’s pulse quickened at his words, and she shook her head. Earlier, her intentions to tease him a little bit was too daring, but she was excited to try it. Now that she was standing in front of him, she was starting to wonder what had possessed her to go through with this!!

Swallowing hard, she lowered her gaze, her fingers trembling as she undid the clasp of her cloak. The heavy fabric slipped from her shoulders, pooling at her feet like spilled ink, and it revealed the dress beneath.

Soft pink lace clung to her curves, delicate and utterly sinful. The bodice was embroidered with intricate patterns, the semi-transparent fabric whispering against her skin as it cascaded down to her knees. The thin straps on her shoulders left her in the open, leaving the graceful curve of her neck and collarbones exposed, whilst the gentle swell of her cleavage was subtly framed.

Heat flushed her cheeks as silence stretched between them. Donovan hadn’t spoken a word. He hadn’t even blinked. His gaze was fixed on her, burning and heavy, as if committing every inch of her to his memory.

Esme was starting to wonder if he didn’t like it, but then, his tongue flicked over his lower lips, his expression darkening with unmistakable hunger that instantly left her feeling weak in the knees.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

"You..." Esme began, her voice soft but teasing, "you were getting worked up and I thought a little distraction might—"

"Little?" Donovan’s voice dipped into something dark and molten, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that made her catch her breath. "Do you have any idea how much restraint it takes to keep my hands off you, Esme." His voice was rough, his control fraying. "You’ve been so busy lately and I—" He exhaled sharply. "I don’t want to wear you out... but gods, you test me."

Before she could respond, his arm slid around her waist, dragging her against him with a force that sent heat spiraling through her. The hard planes of his body were pressed into her softer curves, his warmth, his scent– he was everywhere.

His eyes roamed over her, dark and consuming, but when his gaze dipped lower, Esme felt her cheeks flush even more to the point she was sure she would be competing to the redness of an apple.

Her lips parted, breathless. "What are you staring at?"

Donovan’s lips curled at the corner at her question, wicked amusement dancing in his expression. "If it truly bothers you," he murmured, his voice thick with hunger, "you wouldn’t be asking so provocatively."

Then, without another word, he claimed her mouth, his kiss deep and unapologetic as he stole the air from her lungs. It wasn’t gentle— it was fire, a promise of all the things he had been holding back.