The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate

Esme absorbed every word Finnian shared concerning the demon shifter to her, and a chilling realization began to take shape in her head.

Finnian was depicted as the hero today – deliberately so – while the demon shifter remained an embodiment of evil in the eyes of everyone. He must have known that the people of Illyria have never witnessed two demon shifters clash before, so Finnian, being the first in their eye, would serve a great advantage for him.

Esme found herself recoiling at the memory of how callously he had taken lives at the moonstone hall, as if there were no consequences for such acts. It was a straight-up reminder that he had always been the enemy. But now, she was left grappling with the twist she never saw coming behind his deed.

The killing and everything, he planned it all to save Finnian. But why would he do something like that for someone he barely knows??

Esme fought to keep her voice steady as she responded to Finnian, "I’m glad you told me this," she said, carefully masking her unease. "I’ll need to draw some blood from you later, but for now, eat your meal and get plenty of rest." Finnian nodded and carefully set his tray on his lap.

Esme watched him eat, and she wanted to ask how he knew about Vivienne’s death, as she hadn’t told him about it yet. Did her absence give him a hint that she must have died as well? As much as the question hung at the tip of her tongue, she wasn’t interested in shattering the moment with painful questions. He had lost his own mother, Luna Percy, but seemed to be managing his emotions just fine.

Finnian then turned to look at Esme, catching her off-guard with his unexpected glance, and he asked, "You’re not afraid of brother Dahmer anymore, are you?" his voice sounded tentative, and Esme pressed her lips to form a thin line. She shook her head slowly, making the worried look on his face ease, and he focused on his meal.

Admittedly, she couldn’t honestly say she wasn’t afraid of Dahmer, not after all he had put her through. But she knew he wouldn’t dare harm her, not in his present condition, and certainly not in front of the king. Besides, if Dahmer so much as hinted at saying anything against Finnian, she wouldn’t remain silent. Finnian had the Montague blood running through his veins, and she was certain that one day, he would be the one to rebuild the Therondia pack. Maybe not now, but when he was old enough to lead, he would rise to the occasion.

As evening settled, Esme wandered through the empty, dimly lit corridor, her thoughts heavy with Lennox’s unsettling words about announcing their wedding alliance tomorrow. The weight of his comment hadn’t struck her at the moment, but now it gnawed at her conscience. She had come to realize that entangling herself in royal politics was the last thing she desired.

All she ever really wanted was a peaceful environment to call home, where Finnian, she and Vivienne could live in harmony. It wouldn’t really matter if it would be within a pack, or beyond it; a simple life was what she craved with those she cared about by her side.

But life has never been kind to her. It had already stolen Vivienne away, and nearly claimed Finnian too.

As Esme approached her chamber, a tantalizing scent drifted through the air, halting her mid-step. She turned around to scan the corridor with a puzzled look, but it was empty, devoid of any presence.

A frown creased her brow as the familiar fragrance stirred memories she no longer had business entertaining. How could she possibly sense him from so far away? Or was her mind betraying her, unraveling at the seams.

"I’m exhausted and imagining things." She convinced herself and approached her room door, unlocking it.

Once inside, Esme closed the door with a soft click and locked it securely behind her. A weary sigh slipped from her lips as she leaned lazily against the door, resting her forehead against the cool wood. But then, she froze as the familiar scent intensified, wrapping around her senses like a living thing.

Her senses weren’t this strong to begin with, so catching a scent as potent and distracting as this could only mean—

Esme’s heart skipped a beat as a familiar voice resonated behind her, and her body stiffened.

"I’ve been waiting for you," Donovan’s voice was a gentle whisper that stirred a new memory in her head, his breath warm against her ear as he asked. "Did you forget me already?"

Esme’s hands trembled as she fumbled with the lock, but before she could turn it, his hand firmly covered hers, his touch igniting a spark through her veins, leaving her breathless. He was so close – that close she could feel the warmth emanating from his body. He was in her chamber, but how did he get in?

"Can you... dial back your scent? If anyone else catches wind of it in my chamber, you can get me in trouble." Esme stated with a steady voice, despite her unease with their proximity. She slowly withdrew her hand from the doorknob, letting it slip from his gentle grasp.

A part of her made her remind him of his scent, but not for the reasons she blatantly told him. His foreign scent was rich and primal, like dark woods and smoldering embers, laced with a hint of something dangerously intoxicating – and that rang an alarm bell in her head.

It was putting scandalous thoughts into her mind, thoughts she wouldn’t normally entertain on any given day. She found herself wondering if this was what they referred to as pheromones. From what she knew, pheromones predominantly attract omegas when they are in the presence of an Alpha wolf, and it gets worse to resist if that Alpha somehow ends up as their true mate. However, without a wolf herself, her sense of smell – especially concerning such things – have long dulled.

She had never once detected the scent of pheromones, not even when she stood close to Alpha Rhyne, or the king.

But this man...

Esme hesitated for a moment, then turned around to face him, her gaze lingering on his blindfold. An impulsive urge surged within her as she lifted her hand without thinking, her fingers reaching out to touch his blindfold and unveil it.

"What are you doing?" He asked, swiftly seizing her wrist before she could make contact. Esme’s eyes widened when he grasped her wrist, making her wonder how he knew her actions before she did them.

"You know you can’t do that."

"And you’re not supposed to be sneaking into my private chamber," Esme retorted, her expression hardening. "So it seems we’re both breaking the rules tonight." Curiosity burned in her due to his defense, and it urged her to discover the reason behind why he concealed his eyes so much.

"I don’t like my eyes," he murmured, his voice tinged with a quiet intensity that threw Esme off-guard. "They hold far more power than you realize, so it’s best not to test it." His caution was gentle, but his message was clear.

Slowly, he let his fingers glide up her wrist, coaxing her hand open, to her surprise. He guided her palm to rest against his cheek.

"Why concern yourself with the stupid blindfold," he whispered, his voice low and persuasive, "when you can touch me instead?" He leaned into her hand, his face pressing into the warmth of her touch with a look of longing. Esme’s eyes widened in surprise at his daring actions, and heat pooled at her lower belly due to his submissive act.

She instinctively tried to pull her hand away. But his hold was steady, firm enough to keep her in place without causing her pain.

"What do you think you’re doing?!" She demanded. Though the voices in her head told her to let him continue, she knew that at the end of the day, she would be the one to regret falling for whatever charm he was using to make her feel this way. His powerful scent was starting to cloud her sense of reasoning – it stirred memories – memories of that same night she wanted to forget more than anything in the world.

"I helped you – don’t you think it’s only fair if you repay the favor?" Donovan’s voice was low and insistent as he pressed her hands against the door, his fingers threading through hers above in the most desirable way. "For many years, I never imagined waking up from a deep sleep only to find my mate in the most intense circumstances. I may have patience for many things, but my wolf is nothing like me. I tried to deny our bond after the conversation we had last night, but the stubborn beast inside me led me straight to you... in this condition."

He clasped their fingers together, compelling Esme to surrender. Her heart raced due to his possessive clutches, and the hope of freeing herself felt impossibly distant. "M-mate? What are you... talking about? I don’t have a mate!"