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Forsaken By The Blind Alpha King

Cornelia

5.0

Werewolf

10 Chapters

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The Blood‑Moon Festival is about to begin. Seraphina, my partner's childhood friend, drags me to a cursed silver guillotine to film a prank video. Poisonous silver burns my throat and numbs my vocal cords. I cannot make a sound to call for help. Karen, my wolf‑king partner, believes Seraphina's lies and tells me to lie still. "Ella, stop throwing a fit. Just play along with Seraphina's little trick." To cover up what she has done, Seraphina wraps my broken neck beneath a black lace veil. At the festival's peak, Karen orders my lifeless body to wake before the entire wolf clan. When the curtain pulls away, the last thread binding my soul to my flesh snaps. Our mate bond shatters. He collapses onto the ground where I lie, letting out a heart‑broken wail. Floating as a ghost, I watch him frantically try to piece my broken body back together. Inside me, there is nothing but cold silence. This time, I will leave him stranded in the dark forever.

Forsaken By The Blind Alpha King Chapter 1

The Blood‑Moon Festival is about to begin. Seraphina, my partner's childhood friend, drags me to a cursed silver guillotine to film a prank video.

Poisonous silver burns my throat and numbs my vocal cords. I cannot make a sound to call for help.

Karen, my wolf‑king partner, believes Seraphina's lies and tells me to lie still.

"Ella, stop throwing a fit. Just play along with Seraphina's little trick."

To cover up what she has done, Seraphina wraps my broken neck beneath a black lace veil.

At the festival's peak, Karen orders my lifeless body to wake before the entire wolf clan.

When the curtain pulls away, the last thread binding my soul to my flesh snaps. Our mate bond shatters. He collapses onto the ground where I lie, letting out a heart‑broken wail.

Floating as a ghost, I watch him frantically try to piece my broken body back together. Inside me, there is nothing but cold silence.

This time, I will leave him stranded in the dark forever.

Chapter 1

Ella's Point of View

Twenty minutes remain until the Blood‑Moon Festival.

Excited howls of wolves echo all through Blackwood Castle.

I am an Omega, lowest in the wolf‑clan hierarchy. I ought to stay out of sight, fixing my formal gown.

But Seraphina, the spoiled daughter of the former Alpha, has other plans.

Cold hands cover my eyes from behind and shove me toward the great hall.

"Don't struggle, Ella," she sneers. As a Beta, her strength easily overpowers my frail frame. "I need to record something special for tonight's celebration."

I stumble onto the altar's cold wooden surface. Before I can scream, Seraphina shoves my shoulders down. My knees crash hard against the floor, and my jaw is forced into a wooden restraint.

A burning pain explodes across the back of my neck. I stare in horror - I am trapped beneath a silver guillotine. The ancient frame hums with dark curse‑magic meant to muffle sounds and mask injury - weaving a false veil of life over dying flesh, so every onlooker's senses swear the victim still lives.

Silver is deadly to our kind. It burns wolf‑flesh and poisons our blood like strong acid.

*Click.* Seraphina unlocks the runes holding the heavy silver blade above me.

The metal sinks into my skin. I thrash in agony, my wolf‑spirit whimpering deep inside my mind.

Wolves all around watch and laugh, convinced this is just a realistic ritual performance for the Moon Goddess.

Seraphina holds up a glowing memory crystal.

"Hold that expression, Ella! Just ten more seconds!" she cheers, capturing my suffering.

The crowd parts. A scent of pine and storm fills the air.

It is Karen. Alpha of Blackwood, my fated mate.

He strides to the altar, dark velvet cape swirling behind him. He takes my shaking hand.

"Ella, do not be stubborn. Cooperate with Seraphina's game." His voice speaks directly into my mind through our wolf‑link.

Silver poison has stolen my voice. I beg him with my eyes, twisting against the wood.

Karen sighs. He thinks I am merely a jealous, temperamental Omega.

He pats the back of my neck in reassurance. That gentle tap pushes the blade deeper, severing my carotid artery.

Hot blood floods my throat. I choke, yet no sound escapes my lips.

Karen brushes a tear from my cheek.

"I will see you soon, my dramatic little mate," he murmurs.

He draws the heavy curtain shut, sealing me in darkness.

My blood soaks my dark gown. Stiff lace and red altar roses hide what has happened.

My breathing stops. My heart beats its final time. I die alone behind the curtain.

Moments later, I feel light. My spirit drifts upward. I look down at my body, still held in the guillotine. Only our fated‑mate tether keeps my ghost bound to this world. A mate bond never cries out when a wolf dies, I understand now; it stays silent, holding all its grief until the moment it snaps.

On the altar lies the forgotten memory crystal. It glows, recording the exact moment my mate's careless gesture drove the silver blade into me.