The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate

Esme’s mind reeled in shock, not because she was indecisive about which decision to make in order to save her little brother, but because this demon possessed what was supposed to be a palace secret.

How did he discover her predicament? For all she knew, it hadn’t been disclosed to anyone living outside the palace walls just yet, so who told him about Finnian’s condition?

Has he been spying on her, or did he have a hand in it?

Esme’s gaze dropped on the coin in his hand, annoyed at the thought of what fate would hold for her should she agree to his terms. She shook her head and slid to the floor, uncertainty and pure helplessness drowning her in a deep sea she was unable to swim out of. The thought of relying on a demon shifter repulsed her, but a voice of reason told her that he was her only hope to save Finnian. He was the key, his presence tonight was no coincidence, so why was she hesitating to take the bait?

Should she just die and let the world forget she ever existed?

As tears streamed down her face, Esme wrapped her arms around her knee, lost in her own wrecked-up emotional turmoil as she sobbed quietly. She didn’t even notice Donovan had crouched on one knee, his shadow encompassing her frail form until she felt him grab her arm, only to pull her into his gentle embrace.

Her eyes flew open, startled, as the familiar scent of sandalwood engulfed her, and a jolt of electricity ran through her body. He had only grabbed her arm and her insides automatically sprang to life, as if they had been waiting, anticipating his touch without her even realizing it.

It hummed, as if wanting more of his touch, seeking it. It was almost the same feeling she felt as being wrapped in that stranger’s arm. It was oddly satisfying – to be in his hold reminded her of the same protection the stranger made her feel. It was very odd; she never once felt like this in Lennox’s embrace, and she didn’t like that she was receiving it from a monster.

A demon shifter, hugging her?

"Don’t push it," He whispered, sensing her tension, and Esme’s frozen body gradually gave in to the soothing command of his voice. Her trembling subsided as his hand gently stroked her back, and he murmured against her. "I’m sorry that my kind is the reason behind your pain, and I can’t bring back what they’ve taken from you. If you want to punish me for it, I can stand still, and you can strike me as many times as you desire. It won’t kill me, but I’m not immune to pain either."

His hand slid to the back of her neck, a tender gesture, but Esme shook her head, refusing to accept his words.

"I don’t trust you! I’ll never trust you!" She loathed this unexpected sense of comfort, and it made her release her tears, crying in his arms against her own will. Her mind screamed for her to push him away, to reject the feeling of being cradled in his arms like this, but her body betrayed her, desperately craving the solace he offered.

She despised herself for being this weak in the arms of an enemy, for needing his comfort despite her better judgment.

When she eventually calmed down, Donovan pulled back and retrieved the knife she had dropped from the floor. Esme’s heart raced as she watched him pick up the knife, thinking he intended to use it against her, but instead, he gently opened her palm and guided her hand to grasp the hilt. He then brought the blade to his chest, his own hand supporting hers to stop it from trembling. Esme’s glossy eyes were fixed on the knife, mere inches from his heart.

One slight push, and the blade would sink in, exacting revenge for her brother and Vivienne’s fate.

"Go ahead," Donovan urged, his voice low and steady. "I give you my word that I won’t stop you." His fingers closed around hers, encouraging her to take action. "Do what you need to do, and don’t stop until you’re satisfied. I don’t want to hear your tears, and you can do as you please with me in return." His other hand softly stroked her wet cheek, a tender gesture that belied the intensity of the moment.

Esme’s eyes widened in disbelief as he offered himself to her mercy, just like that. Her gaze fell on their entwined hands, and the memory of Vivienne’s sacrifice flared, tempting her to drive the blade into his chest. Her hand jerked, the tip of the blade piercing his skin through his shirt. But as she realized he was willing to let her harm him, her resolve faltered.

What was the point if he wouldn’t even resist?

Esme withdrew the blade instead, and the knife clattered to the floor as she let it slip from her grasp. Donovan’s ears perked up, surprise etched on his handsome face. He was shocked to hear the knife clatter to the floor, for he had expected her to plunge the blade deep into his chest. He wouldn’t care if she did, and even if the situation between them right now isn’t friendly, at least, he was able to hold her in his arms again. That alone gave him a reason to want to live.

"I want to save my brother," Esme said, snapping him out of his reverie. "I’m willing to do anything as long as Finnian is saved. Even if it means agreeing to your terms and conditions, you have to get my brother out of the mess your kind has thrust him into." She made it clear, wiping her tears away, and he pulled out the coin from earlier.

"Heads or tails?" he asked. "This was my second option actually. My first option was to take both you and your brother with me, but I don’t want to force you to go with me either, so I came up with this. Whichever one you choose decides your fate. The ball is in your court, my dark little moon." his voice dropped low, making that last phrase sound like an unintentionally seductive call.

Esme averted her gaze from his majestic face and fixed them on the coin. She made her decision. "I go with heads." A stunning smirk spread across Donovan’s face as he flipped the coin into the air, and Esme’s gaze followed it. But instead of landing, the coin transformed mid-air, and a vial of blood dropped into Donovan’s outstretched hand.

"Inject this blood into your brother tonight, make sure the vial is empty before removing it." He handed it to Esme, whose eyes were frozen in bewilderment. It was obvious he was giving her blood, the vial was made from clear glass, so she could see the crimson liquid inside.

"Whose blood is this?" She asked, refusing to take it, and he explained.

"Demon curses act like toxins in the bloodstream, spreading up to the heart and brain where they can fully take control of one’s physical and mental state." He elaborated. "If they gain full control of the heart, there’s no choice but to kill the person. As demon shifters, we’ve put a good amount of study into the curse, as well as how it affects our system. This blood is rare and hardly found in demon shifters, but there is someone fortunate enough to have them. The blood contains a unique antidote called the Demonoxin, cytokines, and Demonase. These factors can easily recognize and bind to the demon cells, disrupting their ability to replicate and infect other cells."

"By injecting this blood into Finnian, his immune system can eliminate the infected cells. It will give him the power to control the curse at his own will, and exorcize it to his own advantage." Donovan dropped the vial into her hand and stood up. "Give it to him, and you’ll understand what I mean."

Esme’s eyes widened as he turned to leave, and she stood up immediately, confusion and frustration etched on her face as she gazed at his imposing figure. "You’re just going to give me the blood? Why are you helping me? You don’t even know me, and even if you did, you should be aware of the kind of relationship our fathers had before they died. I don’t understand your motive at all. You’re confusing me!" Esme didn’t like the way she craved him to stay behind. A few minutes ago, she wanted nothing more than to kill him, but right now, she’s confused and messed up in the head.

Donovan simply opened the window, and the wind blew in, fluttering his loose hair. To Esme, he looked like an unrealistic painting that had been brought to life, and what’s worse, the moonlight accentuated the sharp contours of his face. It made her wonder what his parents even looked like if he looked like this. The blindfold did nothing to lessen his allure at all, and Esme mentally scolded herself for ogling at the enemy.

"I may be blind," he said, touching his blindfold. "But I couldn’t bring myself to forget you. You don’t remember that night, or how you saved me from my own torment. Maybe I’m just holding onto something that can never be possible between us. I suspected it, but I wanted to believe otherwise."

He then paused, his voice taking on a softer tone. "As for the deal, It’s a simple proposal. In case you change your mind about marrying the king, and need help getting out of the situation, call out to me. I have a bone to pick with that prince of yours anyway. I think it’s a good thing my father died before I woke up, cause if I had met him, I would have been the one to kill him, not your father." with that, he dropped from the window.

Esme immediately rushed to the window, but just like before at the fortress, he was gone, leaving her with more questions than answers. What did he mean by saying she saved him?

Under the quiet night sky, Donovan took a leisurely stroll outside the palace walls, his pet raven flying overhead.

"Master, how did it go?" Kangee asked, its black eyes gleaming in the moonlight, and Kangee could swear it saw its master pout his lips a second ago.

"She rejected you? How dare that little shifter! I hope she has a bad hair day and her hair stays short forever!"

Donovan responded to his raven’s tantrums with a soft hum, but his body began to betray him. His powers stirred, and a faint hiss escaped his lips. A familiar pain shot through his heart, sending him to his knees, and Kangee, noticing its master’s distress, let out a panicked squawk.

"Master! Master! What’s wrong?!" Kangee cried out, its feathers ruffling in alarm. "You didn’t give her your blood, did you?! DID YOU?!!"

"Kangee," Donovan exhaled slowly as the pain eased. "Tell no one about this."