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Mated To The Wrong Alpha

Abigail is the daughter of a once proud but now dying pack, a pack that would do anything to restore their position amongst the greatest packs once again. But luckily for them, Abigail catches the attention of Darius, alpha of the most powerful and dangerous pack in America. She is at once given to him as a bargaining chip more so than a bride, as a means to cement her pack's relationship with that of Darius'. Now Abigail will have to survive this prison she calls a marriage to the monster wolf Darius, while also trying to suppress her feelings for her true mate Elias. But this is easier said than done, because amidst finding the secrets to her past, and plotting with her true mate to escape and bring down Darius, she will find herself bearing feelings towards him, and learn everything to be more complex than she initially thought. And it all starts with Abigail trying to make Darius fall for her. "I don't know how you got that idea into your pretty head, but Darius doesn't fall in love." "There's a first time for everything." "A first time huh?" Darius' voice echoes into my ears. "You have two months to make me fall for you. But if you fail, I'll kill your best friend Rosemary, her mate, and every member of your pack."

Ecoist_Stories · Fantasie
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245 Chs

Chapter 130: The Bonfires

I stay by Kysilius' side as we make our way past several bonfires.

A thought swept through my head on account of how these wolves would know I'm Darius' Luna, without us first introducing ourselves.

But as though reading my mind -- God forbid -- Kysilius had informed me that Darius' smell is...in me.

I don't know why he told me that the way he did, or why I feel strange when I think about it, but all in all, I'm glad I don't have to meet each and every single wolf her...

In an instant, the world spins on its axis and I find the ground speedily reaching for me.

But I freeze in place, it takes me a second to realize I was falling, and my descent had been halted by Kysilius, who is holding onto the back of my tunic.

He pulls me to my feet, and I don't comment on how rude of a way he deemed to rescue me from face-planting the ground, but rather, I turn my attention to the sharp pain that emanated from my right foot seconds before I fell.