Power is a curse.
That's the first thing my father ever taught me about being an Alpha. Not the strength, not the dominance, not the glory that lesser wolves whisper about. No, he made sure I understood the truth. Power isolates. Power corrupts. And power demands sacrifice.
Tonight, that lesson pressed down on me like iron chains.
The moon loomed full and pale above the courtyard, spilling silver light over the stones. My people gathered in silence, hundreds of wolves kneeling in reverence, their heads bowed as they waited for me, their Alpha King. The air was thick with anticipation, with the sacred tension of the Choosing.
Every year, under the full moon, an Alpha chose his mate. His fate. His binding legend.
And tonight, it was my turn.
The Choosing wasn't a choice, not really. It was tradition older than the kingdom itself, written in blood and bound by the Moon Goddess. An Alpha's myth determined the course of his reign. Some found strength. Some found ruin. And once chosen, it could never be undone.
The elders stood in a circle before me, cloaked in shadows, their chants rising low and eerie. My brothers lingered to the side, Caleb, always restless, always ambitious, his gaze sharp as daggers, Elias, silent and calculating, his loyalty never a question mark. My trusted warriors stood at attention, their distrust of the ceremony written plainly in the rigid set of their jaws.
They hated this. They thought mates were chains. But I was the Alpha. I didn't have the luxury of doubt.
I stepped into the circle, every eye fixed on me. My chest rose and fell with steady control, though inside, a storm raged.
"Damien of House Draven," Elder Mordecai's voice boomed, echoing across the courtyard. "Alpha of the Blackfang, King of the Wolves. On this night, beneath the gaze of the Goddess, you will choose. You will bind your soul to your myth. Do you accept?"
The weight of a thousand eyes pressed into me. My people waited, my brothers waited, the Goddess waited.
"Yes," I answered, my voice cold, commanding, final.
The elders lowered a silver bowl before me. Inside, flames licked the air, burning blue and white, fueled by sacred herbs.
"Step forward," Mordecai said. "Look into the fire. See your fate. Speak your myth."
I obeyed.
The moment my gaze locked onto the flames, the world shifted. The courtyard vanished, swallowed by shadows. The air thickened, and whispers coiled around me, ancient voices hissing secrets I could not understand.
Then,her.
A figure appeared within the fire.
A woman.
Her eyes glowed like molten gold, her hair falling in dark waves over bare shoulders. She stood at the edge of the flames, her lips curved in a smile that was equal parts invitation and warning.
My chest tightened, heat surging through me in a way no battle, no blood, no victory ever had. I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't look away.
The voices screamed around me, the fire roared higher, but all I saw was her.
The temptress.
My mate.
I didn't know her name. I didn't know where or when our paths would cross. But I knew deep in my bones that she would be my undoing.
The vision faded, leaving only darkness.
"Speak," Mordecai commanded.
I opened my mouth, and the words tore free like a curse.
"My mate… is the Temptress."
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Shock. Fear. Disgust.
The elders exchanged wary glances. My brothers stiffened. Even my most loyal warriors shifted uneasily, as though the word itself had soured the air.
A temptress was no blessing. No Alpha in history had ever spoken it. Legends said the Temptress led kings to ruin, toppled thrones, and drowned kingdoms in blood.
But it was too late. The bond was sealed. The fire hissed and died, the smoke curling into the night sky as if carrying my fate to the stars.
I stood tall, my face an unbroken mask, though inside, unease clawed at me.
The people needed strength, not fear. They couldn't know how the vision had shaken me. How her golden eyes still burned in my mind.
I turned, raising my voice so it carried across the courtyard. "The Temptress is mine. And I will master her, as I master all things."
The crowd bowed, their voices rising in forced unison: "Glory to the Alpha King!"
But their eyes told another story. Doubt. Distrust.
And in that moment, as the moonlight bathed me in silver fire, I realized the truth.
My reign had begun not with triumph, but with temptation.
And she, whoever she was, was already my weakness.