The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate

Esme stepped onto the dais beside Finnian, her gaze meeting the concern in his blue eyes. She offered a reassuring pat on his shoulder, and after a moment, his tense shoulders relaxed.

"Everything will be okay." She whispered gently, and he nodded with a small smile, his trust in her unwavering.

With a deep breath, Esme turned to face the assembly.

Every Alpha’s gaze was fixed on her form, their auras pressing down upon her like a physical weight. But she stood firm, her determination to keep Finnian safe taking over, and her sweaty palms clenched into fist at her side.

She can do this! She will do it!

"Esmeray," King Lennox’s voice broke the silent atmosphere, his expression momentarily softening before he regained his composure. "You claimed to have compelling reasons for sparing Finnian, despite the risk of him transmitting the curse to the people of Illyria. I ask you now; what are those reasons?"

Esme met his gaze and nodded resolutely, then turned to everyone. "I-I know it may seem futile but hear me out. For centuries, we’ve only known how to fight the demon shifters with swords, claws, and teeth. But what if Finnian’s condition offers us a good chance to understand them better? If you think about it more carefully, we can turn this to our advantage." There was a faint glimmer of hope in her eyes, and the Alphas exchanged puzzled glances.

Esme paused, silently apologizing to Finnian for putting him on the spot before continuing. "We know so little about the demon shifters. If Finnian hadn’t been injured in the first place, we wouldn’t have discovered the curse could be transmitted. They’re aware of our ignorance, and that gives them the upper hand. Eliminating Finnian won’t change anything, but if we help him, he might lead us to their true vulnerabilities. This could be a hidden opportunity for everyone in Illyria, a silver lining. It won’t be easy, but if we can work together to help him overcome his inner turmoil, shouldn’t we take the risk?"

"The risk is too great to be taken lightly," a wise, aged councilman with a shiny bald head cautioned. "There is a part based on what you’ve said that is truly correct – we know very little about the demon shifters, and that is because it is extremely difficult to understand them. May I remind you that we’ve had one under our custody, and we the councils have witnessed their stubborn and malicious nature firsthand."

Finnian’s expression wavered a bit, and he wondered if the council was talking about the boy that strange man told him about in his dream.

"You claim your brother is different," he continued. "But I fear he’ll succumb to his bloodlust when tempted. They always do. That’s why we must conduct a test to see if he can resist his dark cravings and control the curse. It is for the betterment of Illyria that we know exactly what we’re putting up with before choosing to spare him."

The councilman rose from his seat and approached the dais, his apathetic gaze on Finnian. Esme’s apprehension grew as a guard handed him a knife. She knew exactly what he had in mind, and her concern turned to alarm. "No, you can’t—" she blurted out, and Lennox joined in.

"Harming the boy is out of the question," he said to the councilman who paused in whatever he planned on using the knife to do with Finnian. He turned to his king and lowered his head respectfully.

"The knife is not to harm the boy, but to test his control."

"You are trying to deliberately provoke the curse, knowing fully well how it will end," Esme protested. "Finnian is too young to fight such a powerful curse on his own. We need to help him stabilize the curse, not push him over the edge!"

The bald councilman countered, "That’s exactly what I’m trying to do." and with a swift motion, he slashed his wrist, causing blood to trickle from the open wound. Finnian’s eyes widened at the sight of fresh blood, his gaze following the crimson stream as it dripped to the floor. The voices, which he assumed were gone, immediately returned.

They came in waves, and Finnian’s eyes began to take the shape of a serpent. Esme glanced at Finnian, who was catching his labored breath, and she immediately rushed to his side. She glared at the man who was deliberately provoking the curse by slashing his own wrist, but her concern was on Finnian, who was slowly shifting into a demon.

"Finnian, are you alright? You have to fight it!" Esme watched as his nails elongated, and a painful growl escaped him. Tears pricked her eyes watching him in pain, and she looked at the man who was still holding out his bloodied wrist.

"Get your hand away!"

"He has to prove that he can fight it!" Said the council, his expression stern. "Can he resist, or will he attack and get killed in the process?!"

"No, stoop!" Esme could only hold onto her brother as he trembled from the pain. He was fighting it, that would be the only reason he hadn’t attacked yet, but for how long can he hold himself back?

As if on cue, the moonstone hall’s main door swung open, and the room fell silent, their attention shifting to the man who strode in.

Lennox’s face paled as the intruder came into sight. It was no one other than his worst nemesis, Donovan Morgrim, the demon shifter himself, son of the late Alpha Zephyr. His stride was unhurried and purposeful as he approached, dressed impeccably in black and gold attire.

Esme’s eyes locked onto Donovan, her expression frozen in surprise. Finnian mirrored her reaction when he looked up to see who had entered, and Leonardo stared at their guest in disbelief, his eyes hinting at a flicker of concern. It was as if he was questioning Donovan’s presence.

Everyone snapped back into motion when Lennox sprang to his feet, joined by other Alphas who perceived the negative aura emanating from their guest. Their wolves, which were always eager to attack a threat, felt an unexplained intimidation that made them retreat in their owner’s head. Only Lennox’s wolf stood its ground against Donovan’s presence, but that didn’t stop the daring man from approaching the table, a coy smile spreading across his face.

The air around him seemed to vibrate with an unspoken understanding, and he could sense everyone’s intention. It was as clear as day.

"I smell blood," he murmured in a low and husky tone, his tongue flicking out to tap his fangs, a provocative gesture that sent the councilman who had slashed his wrist into a state of panic. The man’s face paled as he attempted to cover his wound, his eyes darting towards Donovan with a mix of fear and apprehension.

Lennox was in a bit of a shock to react, but when he recovered, a vein throbbed in his forehead. He was torn between outrage at Donovan’s audacity in presenting himself in the moonstone hall and his blatant display of bloodlust.

"You...! GUARDS!" Lennox’s voice pierced through the hall, and the guards sprang into action, surrounding Donovan with their pointed spears.

Finnian’s eyes went wide as he witnessed the hostility towards Donovan, but what left him aghast was when the guards raised their own weapons and slashed their own throats. Blood splattered everywhere, and the lifeless bodies of the guards crashed to the floor.

"King Lennox, is it?" Donovan started, his voice calm and collected as he heartlessly stepped over a dead body without a care to approach Lennox. Whichever guard came his way was ruthlessly killed by him, either with his powers, or the star-blade. The Alphas wisely stayed back, unwilling to risk their lives and forsake their pack.

Lennox watched his men fall one by one, with Donovan blithely dispatching them as he drew closer. The demon then breezed past Lennox, seemingly dismissing him as if he wasn’t worthy of whatever attention he was likely to spare him, and he made his way to the dais. Lennox’s eyes flashed with a deep-seated hatred, and he was ready to shift until Leonardo stopped him.

Esme remained frozen by her brother’s side, her gaze darting between the dead bodies on the floor and the council, where Donovan’s attention was now fixed. He was heading for the councilman with a bald head, and the man’s knee weakened as Donovan drew closer.

"How many years have passed, and yet you still fail to learn?" Donovan’s voice was laced with contempt as he grasped the councilman who had earlier slashed his own wrist, his fingers closing around the man’s throat like a vice.

"I’m certain you remember me. You were one of the six who had fun torturing me, but it seems you forgot my warning; never provoke a curse. And yet, you’ve managed to outdo yourself. But don’t worry, it won’t be the boy who makes you pay – it’ll be me." A sly grin spread across Donovan’s face, and the crimson, eerie, cable-like veins began to emerge from his fingers, wrapping around the man’s throat like a deadly vine.

The councilman’s eyes bulged as he struggled to breathe, thrashing mid-air. He was hoping help would come, but everyone just stood there. Esme glanced at the faces of everyone, some of whom were hesitant to intervene, despite their desire to help. The remaining council members fled their seats in panic, and Esme’s hands flew to her mouth as she watched the crimson, wire-like structure pierce deeper into the man’s skin, draining the life from him. His body grew gaunt and limp, and the wires finally retreated from his neck.

Donovan clenched his fist, and he turned to Lennox.

A single being, in the presence of more than thirty Alphas, yet no one could go up to the dais and face him. The result of doing so was evident on the floor, judging from the number of guards he had single handedly killed for merely getting in his way.

Donovan’s voice dripped with malice as he addressed Lennox from the dais, "Did you really think I’d let it end at the fortress?" A dark chuckle escaped his lips. "I won’t kill you just yet, King Lennox of the Blackwood family. You’ll be the last to fall, and I’ll make sure you watch as I take everything you hold dear. That’s the price you pay for turning me into an actual freak."

Donovan attempted to pursue the remaining council members, but he halted when he sensed a sudden shift in the air, and the sounds of chain snapping in half.

Finnian’s eyes blazed with hostility as he broke the chains, and he lunged at Donovan without hesitation. He raised his clenched fist with a fierce cry, intent on punching him in the face, but Donovan swiftly dodged with ease. The punch instead struck the floor, creating a crater twice the size of Finnian’s fist, a testament to the strength behind the blow.

Despite being taken over by the curse, Finnian’s senses told him to stop Donovan from harming others. This time around, he was in control of his actions, and he knew when to act.