The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate
Chapter 89: Beneath The Tree

Chapter 89: Beneath The Tree

Esme’s breath caught when the wolf loomed before her, its sheer presence overwhelming. Its fur was a striking mix of black and white, but what truly captivated her were the swirling shadows, not just shadows after all – but rather, they were tendrils of mist.

They coiled and emanated from the wolf itself, clearly something beyond anything she had ever seen before.

Esme’s heart raced as the realization struck. This was an Alpha. She felt it instantly, the power in the air shifting so suddenly that it left her inexplicably breathless, as though the very oxygen had been drained from her lungs.

Instinctively, she took a step back when the wolf let out a low growl, its eyes locking onto hers, whilst she froze. Those eyes — they were unmistakable, a mirror of someone she knew all too well.

The shock coursed through her, jolting her out of her daze.

She studied the wolf intently once more, and before she could stop herself, the name slipped from her lips, soft and disbelieving.

"Donovan?"

Her back hit the cold stone of the fountain, and she gasped, her heart pounding in terror as the wolf crept closer. She instantly turned her head away without warning, convinced the beast would snap its jaw and tear her apart in a matter of seconds. That was the outcome she had dreaded — her mind racing with visions of those lethal fangs sinking into her flesh.

But instead of the deadly bite she feared, the wolf paused, lowering its head to sniff her. The sensation was almost ticklish, a rather strange contrast to the danger she had anticipated. Slowly, the wolf pulled back, settling down with a thud, its large tail swishing back and forth in excitement.

The once predatory gaze, full of menace, had vanished. It looked excited for reasons she couldn’t comprehend, like a puppy that was happy to reunite with its owner.

"So, it is you," Esme whispered, her voice soft with awe, and she gazed into the violet eyes that held no malice for her. Slowly, almost involuntarily, her hand reached out to touch the wolf. But she hesitated, her fingers trembling mid-air, unsure if this mighty Alpha would truly welcome her touch — or even worse, snap and tear her arms away.

She was barely at arm’s length with the mighty wolf, its sheer size more intimidating up close.

Yet, instead of showing aggression, it leaned forward, sniffing her outstretched hand. To her astonishment, the huge beast willingly lowered its head, offering itself to her touch. Esme blinked in disbelief at the wolf’s action, her fingers brushing through its fur. It was impossibly soft, like running her hand through a wisp of clouds, barely tangible.

"So beautiful," she murmured, marveling at Donovan’s wolf. A low hum of awe escaped her as the wolf suddenly leaned in, licking the side of her face. The unexpected affection coaxed a laugh from her lips, and she smiled softly afterwards, realizing the wolf acted this way because it recognized her. Despite the wolf’s warmth, she felt sad for the poor thing, having been tied to a shifter who couldn’t give it its mate.

"And what might your name be?" Esme asked, stroking its fur once more.

Meanwhile, Donovan was having an internal argument with his wolf.

’You can’t just go around licking her like that!’ Donovan’s frustration was palpable. He had never seen his wolf act so boldly, and it left him unnerved.

’Oh, please, she didn’t seem to mind,’ his wolf replied, its tone smug. ’You’re so out of touch. Look at me, rizzing your mate with just a flick of my tail and a well-placed lick. It’s effortless. Meanwhile you... well, you’re going to use a little help if you plan on winning her over."

’I don’t need your help, get lost!’ Donovan’s voice rang with irritation, but that only amused his wolf.

’Ungrateful brat! Admit it– you’re jealous. Green looks terrible on you, by the way.’

’Change back, or I swear I will force you,’ Donovan’s patience wore thin. He wasn’t jealous of his wolf, he was just irritated that his wolf could easily warm up to Esme better than he could, but his wolf wasn’t done teasing him just yet.

’Relax. I’m just getting started. Besides, if I keep this up, maybe her wolf will finally come out to play.’

’Turn. Back. Now!’ Donovan’s orders were unmistakable, his growl low and menacing.

As Esme gently patted the wolf’s head, she remained unaware of the dark mist that had begun swirling around its form. Slowly, the mist thickened and coiled, veiling the wolf in shadows. By the time it dissipated, her hand was no longer resting on fur, but on something warmer, firmer – Donovan.

The realization struck her, and she immediately withdrew her hand, backing away to the point she almost fell into the fountain, but Donovan’s reflexes were sharp. His fingers closed around her wrist, pulling her close with a force neither of them had anticipated. Their breaths collided, the unexpected intimacy stirred by a force they both knew came from his wolf.

"You were so enchanted by my wolf," Donovan murmured, his voice husky as he pulled her fully against him, leaving no space between them, "yet you flee from me."

His blindfold was nowhere to be seen, and as Esme lifted her gaze, she found herself captivated by the intensity burning in his uncovered eyes. The smoldering look he gave her made her heart race, a wildfire of emotions building in her chest.

Lord, he was mesmerizing!

"Will you not touch me as well?" His voice trembled with a longing that tugged at her defenses. His lips brushed against the skin of her neck as he buried his face there, inhaling her scent like a lifeline, his breath hot and uneven.

"Esmeray," he whispered hoarsely, his lips grazing her ear. "I don’t like this game you’re playing with me."

"What game?!" Esme’s voice wavered, though she struggled to keep it steady. Confusion swirled in her mind, as she had no idea what he meant, or why his mood changed so suddenly. His voice, deeper than ever before, sent a shiver through her.

"Esme..." Donovan’s hand cupped her jaw, his fingers pressing gently but firmly against her cheeks. His gaze darkened as he spoke, "You might hate me for this..." he sighed, as though battling with his own restraint, and he offered no explanation on what he was about to do.

Then, without warning, his lips crashed into hers, a surge of heat igniting between them. The spark was instant, electric, and it raced through her body, paralyzing the world around them as everything else faded away.

Esme’s heart pounded as if she were sprinting through the racetracks again, her pulse matching the intensity of the kiss.

Lips locked, Donovan’s urgency pressed them backward until Esme’s back hit a nearby tree, and he swallowed her gasp, the cool bark sharp against her heated skin.

He tilted her head, angling her face to further deepen the kiss, his need for her overwhelming. His mouth moved over hers with fierce hunger, exploring her as though she hid something sweet within, and each sweep of his tongue against hers was desperate, tasting her with a fervor that left her dizzy, like honey was dripping from her very soul.

A tremor ran through her, forcing a deep, uncontrollable moan to escape her throat.

This was really happening!

His body pressed against hers, hard and searing with heat, his intoxicating scent enveloping her senses till she inevitably felt lost in them. Esme found herself returning his kisses with the same sizzling passion, every ounce of rational thoughts escaping through whatever holes there were in the garden

He tasted incredible – so unbelievably good that it left her trembling, her desire pooling low in her belly, spiraling out of control. He nipped, sucked, and barely gave her time to catch her breath.

His silver hair, falling loosely over his face, brushed against her skin, sending shivers along her spine. She heard him groan, the deep, raw sound vibrating through his chest, and it only made her ache more for him.

She can worry about her shame and cry about her lost dignity later. Those concerns would come. But right now, nothing mattered except him.

When he finally pulled back, it was a slow reluctance, and Esme found herself gasping for air. His mouth didn’t leave completely, though. Instead, they wandered, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along her neck and collarbone.

She shivered at the sensation of his tongue tracing a line up her throat to her jaw, his breath fanning over her skin. His teeth grazed her neck, biting down just shy of where he would mark her, and the sharp sting sent a wave of mingled pain and pleasure through her, a delicious contrast that left her breathless, her body craving more.

"Esme..." Donovan’s voice was rough, his breath coming in ragged gasps, mirroring the need coursing through both of them. "What is this scent coming off you..? This scent... it’s intoxicating, far more potent than the aphrodisiac of that night. I swear it’s driving me mad. I want to taste it... off your soft skin."

Esme’s body tensed, but heat flooded her senses as she felt the hard pressure of him against her, his arousal unmistakable. A low, primal growl escaped his lips as he thrust his hips into hers, their bodies rubbing together in a maddening, electrifying tease that sent waves of pleasure through her.

Moon goddess, help her!

Her mind screamed for control, to break free from this wild, overwhelming pull. She should’ve snapped back to reality, should’ve turned and fled. But instead, her body betrayed her, leaning into him, inviting him closer — craving him against all reasons.

What was wrong with her? Yet here she was, throwing all caution to the wind and surrendering to the fire that blazed between them without a second thought.

So out of the damned blue! Cause her hair was pretty much glowing right now.

"Donovan," his name slipped from her lips in a whisper, so soft it felt like a plea. Or was it? Esme couldn’t be sure, not with the haze of desire clouding her mind, blurring the lines between need and surrender.

But that one word, dripping from her like forbidden temptation, unraveled him completely, tossing his own rationality, the one that was still trying to convince him to pull himself together, into the dust bin.

In an instant, he lifted her, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, and he secured them firmly. The movement made her gown slide up, the fabric brushing away to reveal the smooth skin of her thighs. His hand gripped them, the heat of his touch searing her as he gave them a firm, sensual squeeze.

His touch was like a wand casting spells on her skin.

"Ah..fuck," he cursed under his breath, his lips finding her neck again, teeth grazing her skin, his canine threatening to sharpen themselves for proper marking, ready to claim her.

"Hold on tight," he growled, his voice rough with promise, "because you’re about to be fucked beneath this tree."