The Virgin Wolf
Description
Silas Vale inherits an Alpha's throne and a whispered "lust-curse" he refuses to repeat. Dodging a feral mating rite, he collides with Raena Duskborn-the fierce Alpha of a rival pack-first in a greenhouse, then by a river, where their chemistry shatters every rule. Their Houses have bled for generations, each claiming the other started the war; Silas fears not Raena but the heat under his own skin. Politics sharpen at a ritual feast, Raena outshoots him at the archery trials, and at the Alpha Training Summit a haze snaps her control-she accidentally marks him in front of witnesses. That single mark lights the fuse: alliances tilt, myths of the border war unravel, and both Alphas are forced to decide what strength really is-domination or restraint. To survive, they must rewrite a curse, face the truth behind their families' feud, and choose whether their bond ends a cycle of violence-or ignites a war neither pack can survive.
Chapter 1
Nov 6, 2025
“I said I wasn’t coming back,” I muttered, ducking under a low branch as the sharp tang of smoke burned my throat. It was everywhere—thick, heady, desperate. The kind of scent that made wolves forget themselves.
But I couldn’t forget. Not like them.
The ceremony throbbed behind me—a heat-drunk frenzy of wolves clawing at instinct, scoring flesh, marking and mating like they’d lost their minds. They called it tradition. I called it a trap.
I didn’t want to be anywhere near it. Not since the first time I saw my mother cry.
I was nine when I found her curled on the floor, fists clutching the bedsheets like they were the only thing keeping her from breaking apart. My father had taken another she-wolf the night before. Again. He never stopped. Not until the day they found my mother hanging from her chamber window, eyes wide open like she was still watching the moon for something that never came.
Everyone whispered the same thing after that: The Alpha’s lust is a curse. And he passed it to his son.
For a long time, I didn’t believe them. I thought I could be different—better. Then I ascended as Alpha, and everything changed. Heat started waking something in me—something I didn’t want, something dangerous.
Tonight, the she-wolves circled like vultures. One of them, bold and silver-eyed, ran her fingers down my chest and whispered, “So, is it true? The Alpha of the Hollowmoor Pack prefers male wolves?”
I didn’t realize I’d grabbed her until her body hit a pillar and the breath left her.
“You don’t know who I am,” I growled.
She laughed—breathless. “That’s the problem, Silas. No one does.”
I let her go and ran.
I didn’t stop until the music dulled behind leaves and branches, until the far side of the estate rose quiet and the garden walls loomed like a sanctuary. The greenhouse shimmered ahead—glass fogged with condensation, its door cracked as if it had been waiting. I stepped inside and breathed.
Moonflowers bloomed in thick white clusters, glowing faintly under the lamps. Wild mint crawled across the floor, threading around broken pots and overgrown vines. The air was dense with life—calmer, cleaner.
Until she stepped out of the shadows.
Raena Duskborn. Everyone knew the name. Alpha of the Ashfangs—fierce, unmated, unclaimed. Bound by no one’s rules but her own. They said she once broke a rival’s jaw because he tried to collar her during a spar. Said she never bowed—to anyone, not even her council.
And now she was here.
She-wolves didn’t look like that. Raena didn’t wear silk or paint her mouth red like the others. Her bare arms were dusted with dirt and grit. Her braid was thick, messy, half undone. Her golden eyes locked on mine like she could smell the storm coiled under my skin.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” she said, a voice like flint striking steel.
“Neither are you,” I shot back, forcing my voice steady.
She stepped forward, unhurried. “I don’t report to anyone.”
“Good,” I said. “Because I’m not here to ask.”
A beat. Her eyes narrowed. “You ran.”
“I had to.”
“From what?”
“The curse,” I snapped. “From becoming him.”
She blinked once—nothing more—but something shifted in her gaze. Not pity. Never that. Something sharper—recognition. Raena turned her back and walked deeper into the greenhouse, brushing past vines like she belonged there. I followed.
“I’ve avoided this ceremony for ten years,” I said. “But now I’m Alpha. They said I had no choice.”
“We always have a choice,” Raena said without looking at me.
“Not if you’re bound to hurt someone the second you give in.”
Silence pressed in. Then she said, “So don’t give in.”
I wanted to believe it was that simple, but I could feel the heat uncoiling beneath my skin. My wolf paced just under the surface, restless. Her scent didn’t help—iron, ash, summer storm. Nothing sweet or gentle. Still, it pulled at me.
She turned and looked straight through the words I hadn’t said. “You think you’re the only one afraid of what you’ll become?” she asked quietly. “I’ve crushed bones during training just to feel in control again.”
Her voice trembled on the last word—barely.
I stepped closer. “Why are you here?”
“To remind myself I’m not made of fire,” she murmured. “Even if everyone keeps trying to burn me down.”
Our arms brushed as she passed. The contact was fleeting, but my breath caught, the skin on my arm lighting like it had been branded. Her scent flooded my lungs.
“You felt it, didn’t you?” she asked without turning.
“I’m not looking for a mate,” I said.
“Good,” she replied, facing me again. “Neither am I.”
The Virgin Wolf
29 Chapters
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