Chosen as the Cursed Alpha's Seventh Bride

Chapter 1 Wolfless But Mind Reader Emilia's POV Hybrid. Ba**ard. Curse. For a very long time, the words followed me through the halls of the pack house, across the training field. In the Frostridge pack, I was not simply disliked. I was considered an error that had somehow survived birth. My father was Alpha Henry, but being his daughter had never protected me, because my mother had been a witch, and in a pack that worshiped pure wolf bl**d above almost everything else, my mixed bl**d became a crime no one needed to prove before punishing me for it. My stepsister Linda was even better at it; she never needed to raise her hand when she could turn an entire room against me with one sweet, pitying glance. When I was younger, I used to wonder if they would have treated me differently if my wolf had awakened early, if I had shifted beneath the moon like every other Alpha-blooded child was expected to do, if my claws had been sharp enough and my howl loud enough to make them forget the witch half of me. But year after year, nothing came. By the time I turned twenty-two, I had already learned how to lower my eyes when elders looked at me with disgust, how to ignore the servants who whispered that I was cursed, and how to pretend my stepmother Dorothy's gentle smile did not hurt more than open cruelty because it always came before she reminded me, in the softest possible voice, that I should be grateful the pack still allowed me to stay. The only reason I had not completely collapsed under all of it was Brandon Cole. He had been my hope for so long that I no longer knew how to separate him from the idea of survival itself. Brandon was the strongest young warrior in our pack, handsome, admired, and respected in a way I had never been. "When she comes, Emmy," he used to wh**per, brushing his lips over my scars as if they were something precious instead of proof of every punishment I had endured, "everyone who looked down on you will regret it." So I waited. I waited through my eighteenth birthday, when most wolves shifted for the first time and I felt nothing but silence beneath my skin. I waited through nineteen, twenty, and twenty-one, while the pack's disappointment hardened into mockery and my father's eyes grew colder each time he looked at me. I waited until my twenty-second birthday, the final night a werewolf could still awaken before being declared permanently defective. Tonight was my last chance. Under the full moon, surrounded by wolves who had gathered less to witness my awakening than to enjoy my final failure, I stood barefoot in the ritual circle and forced myself not to tremble. The silver bowl before me reflected the moonlight, the elder's chant rose and fell like distant thunder, and somewhere beyond the crowd, Brandon watched me with an expression I wanted desperately to believe was love. Then the ritual ended. Nothing happened. A few wolves laughed. My stepmother sighed as if my failure had personally inconvenienced her, Linda lowered her eyes to hide the smile pulling at her lips, and my father turned away before the elder even announced what everyone already knew. That would be the worst pain of the night. But I was wrong. As I stepped out of the ritual circle, something sharp split through my skull, and a flood of voices crashed into me all at once. [What a waste of moonlight.] [I knew she wouldn't shift.] [Brandon must be tired of pretending by now.] I froze. No one's mouth had moved. The wolves around me were still laughing, whispering, staring, but beneath their spoken words came another layer of sound-clearer, uglier, impossible to ignore. Their thoughts. Panic tightened around my throat as I stumbled back, pressing a hand against my temple while the pack's hidden cruelty poured into me without mercy. Every smile had a second voice. Every pitying glance carried a knife. They had hated me more deeply than I had ever allowed myself to imagine. I needed Brandon. I needed the one person who had always made the noise of the pack feel far away. But as I pushed through the crowd, desperate to find him, a maid passed close enough for her thoughts to slice through the chaos. [Brandon followed Linda into her room again. Goddess, I swear, if I have to wait for them to finish and then scrub another set of destroyed sheets, I'm going to lose it.] My body stopped moving. For one heartbeat, the entire world went silent. Then my bl**d turned cold. I grabbed the maid's wrist so hard she cried out. "What did you say?" Her eyes widened in terror. "Miss Emilia, I didn't say anything." She was telling the truth. Her lips had not moved. But I had heard her. A terrible numbness spread through me as I released the maid and turned toward the pack house. I did not remember crossing the courtyard, climbing the stairs, or passing the servants who stepped out of my way with startled faces and guilty minds. I only remembered the pounding of my heart and the fo**ish, desperate prayer repeating inside me. Please be wrong. Please let this be the one thought I misunderstood. Please let him still be mine. When I reached Linda's door, I already knew. I pushed the door open. The scene before me was worse than any nightmare. Brandon-my Brandon-was na**d, his body moving over someone sprawled beneath him on the bed. Linda's long legs wrapped around his waist. My sister. My boyfriend. In that moment, I didn't feel pain. I felt nothing. Just a hollow, echoing void where my heart should have been. Then their thoughts crashed into my mind like broken glass. [God, she's so much better than Emilia. Tighter. More responsive. How did I waste many years on that frigid wolfless bi**h?] Brandon's voice, clear in my head even as his mouth was occupied elsewhere. [Look at her standing there like a pathetic little gh**t. Does she really think Brandon ever loved her? Please. He's been mine since the day I decided I wanted him.] Linda's thoughts dripped with venom and smug satisfaction. The numbness shattered. Rage-pure, incandescent fury-flooded through me. I grabbed the vase from the dresser near the door and hurled it at the wall beside the bed. It exploded with a satisfying crash. They jerked apart, Linda screaming, Brandon scrambling to cover himself. "Emilia!" Brandon's face went white. "This isn't-I can explain-" "Explain?" My voice came out low and deadly calm. "Explain how you've been fu**ing my sister for three months while telling me you loved me?" His jaw dropped. "How did you-" "Does it matter?" I stepped into the room, my hands clenched into fists. Linda sat up, not bothering to cover herself, a cruel smile playing on her lips. "Oh, please. Don't act so surprised, Emilia. Did you really think someone like Brandon would settle for a wolfless freak like you?" [She's even more pathetic than I thought. Look at her, about to cry. This is delicious.] I moved before I could think. My hand connected with Brandon's cheek with a crack that echoed through the room. Chapter 2 Sent to the Demon Emilia's POV Brandon staggered back, hand flying to his reddening face. "What the fu-" The second s**p hit even harder. "That's for lying to me for a year," I said, my voice shaking with fury. "For making me believe you cared about me. For being a fu**ing coward who couldn't even break up with me before shoving your dick into my sister." "You crazy bi**h!" Brandon lunged toward me, but I was already moving. I grabbed Linda's designer purse from the nightstand and flung it at his head. It connected with a satisfying thud. "We're done," I said coldly. "Don't ever speak to me again. Don't look at me. Don't even breathe in my direction. You disgust me." I turned to Linda, whose smirk had finally faltered. "And you. Congratulations. You've won the grand prize-a cheating coward with a small d**k and no future. I hope you're very happy together." I didn't wait for a response. I spun on my heel and walked out, slamming the door behind me hard enough to rattle the frame. My father's office was on the first floor. I stormed through the hallways, ignoring the curious stares of lingering guests, my heart hammering against my ribs. I didn't bother knocking. I shoved the door open. Alpha Henry sat behind his desk, Dorothy perched on the edge beside him. They both looked up, startled. "Emilia," my father began. "What are you-" "Did you know?" I demanded, my voice raw from everything I had just swallowed and everything I could no longer pretend not to understand. "Did you know Brandon was cheating on me with Linda?" Alpha Henry only leaned back in his chair and looked at me with the tired impatience. "Sit down, Emilia." "No." My answer was sharper than I expected, and the silence that followed made Dorothy lift her brows. "Did you know?" I asked again. This time, my father did not bother to lie. "Yes." The word hit harder than finding Brandon in Linda's b*d. "You knew," I whispered. "Brandon is a talented warrior," my father said coldly, as if that explained everything. "He is one of the most promising wolves in this generation, and the pack has invested too much in him to waste his future on sentiment." For a moment, I could only stare at him, because I had come into this room expecting anger, perhaps even disappointment, but not this calm, practical cruelty that treated my heartbreak as nothing more than poor strategy. Then he said the thing he had clearly been waiting to say. "You failed your Awakening." The room went still. "You were given twenty-two years, Emilia," he continued, his voice hardening with each word. "and yet after all that time, you are still standing here exactly as you began." [Wolfless.] [Useless.] [Unwanted.] He did not need to say the words aloud. I heard them anyway. "So that's it?" I asked, my throat tightening around the question. "Because I didn't shift, Brandon gets to betray me, Linda gets to humiliate me, and you get to pretend none of it matters?" "Linda has a wolf," Henry snapped. "Linda has value. Brandon needs a mate who can stand beside him, bear strong heirs, and strengthen this pack. Not you." "If I was such a disappointment," I said slowly, "then why did you have me at all?" His expression changed. "Watch your tone." "No," I said, and once the word left me, everything I had buried for years began to rise with it. "If you hated my mother so much, why chose her? If you hated what I was, why let me live here for twenty-two years begging for scraps of approval you never planned to give me?" Dorothy's face cooled. "That is enough." Henry slammed his hand against the desk. The sound cracked through the office. "I chose this pack." That was when I saw the black envelope. Dorothy picked it up from the desk with graceful fingers and placed it where I could see the silver wax seal pressed into the paper. The Simons crest. My bl**d turned cold before she even spoke. "Linda received an invitation from the Simons family," Dorothy said gently, and the sweetness in her voice made my stomach twist. "But after discussing it carefully, your father and I have decided that you will attend in her place." For a few seconds, I could not make sense of the words, because the Simons family was not merely powerful or wealthy; they were feared, whispered about, avoided by every family with daughters old enough to marry. And Alpha Sebastian Simons was the worst of them. Six brides. Six funerals. "You want me to replace Linda," I said, each word colder than the last, "because you're afraid he will k**l her." "No one said that," Dorothy replied. But my father's thoughts moved through my mind with brutal clarity. [Linda is too valuable to risk.] "It is a duty," my father corrected. "The Simons alliance can save Moonfall Pack." "And if I die?" Neither of them answered. They did not need to. My father's thoughts answered for them. [If she dies, we lose nothing.] For a moment, the office seemed to disappear around me, and all I could feel was the horrible clarity of finally knowing my place in this family, not as a daughter, not even as a shame they wished to hide, but as a body they could send into danger because no one would mourn the loss. I stepped back. "No." Henry's eyes narrowed. "Emilia." "No," I repeated, louder this time. "I won't go." His Alpha aura filled the room, heavy enough to press against my bones. "You have spent your entire life receiving this pack's mercy. Now you will repay it." "Mercy?" I laughed, though my ch**t felt like it was breaking open. "You call this mercy?" "I call it obedience." Then he looked past me. "Guards." The door opened before I could reach it, and two warriors seized my arms from behind with enough force to make pain sh**t through my shoulders. I kicked, twisted, screamed, and when one of them dragged me backward, I sank my teeth into his wrist with every bit of rage I had left. He cursed, his grip loosened. For one wild second, I was free. Then something slammed into the back of my head. Pain burst white behind my eyes, the floor tilted beneath me, and as darkness began to drag me under, I heard my father's thoughts one last time, calm and relieved in a way his voice had never been. [Finally.] [That problem is taken care of.] The dark closed in. And in the last fading corner of my mind, I understood. No one in Moonfall Pack expected me to survive. They had already abandoned me to death. Chapter 3 Bride Selection Emilia's POV The scent of roses and expensive perfume hit me first. My eyes fluttered open to find myself staring at an ornate ceiling with intricate moldings. The bed beneath me was obscenely soft. Where the h**l was I? I sat up too quickly. My head spun, the sedative still clinging to my system. The room around me was massive-easily twice the size of my bedroom back at the Frostridge pack house. Everything screamed wealth: silk curtains, marble floors, a chandelier that looked like it belonged in a palace. Then I caught sight of myself in the full-length mirror across the room. They'd dressed me up like a doll. My hair cascaded down my back in soft waves, and my makeup highlighted my best features. My eyes looked deeper, my lips fuller, and my reflection almost felt unfamiliar. The navy silk dress fit me perfectly, elegant and flattering, making it impossible to look away. I looked gorgeous. I looked like a bride being prepared for sl**ghter. Of course they made me pretty. Can't send damaged goods to the devil himself. My father had held that elaborate birthday ceremony not out of love, but as a public display-proof that he'd treated both daughters equally. Then he could ship me off to Sebastian Simons with a clear conscience, his reputation intact. Linda got Brandon. I got a death sentence. He'd probably started planning this the moment my wolf failed to emerge. A sharp knock at the door. "Miss Taylor?" A woman's voice. "Alpha Sebastian's selection will begin shortly. Please follow me." My stomach dropped. This was really happening. I opened the door to find a middle-aged woman in a black uniform. She looked me up and down with cold assessment. *The Frostridge pack must really be desperate,* her thoughts hit me. *Sending a wolfless embarrassment to Alpha Sebastian. Do they think we're id**ts?* The malice in her thoughts made my jaw clench. But I kept my expression calm, following her down a hallway that seemed to stretch forever. The mansion was even more impressive than my room suggested-a sprawling estate that mixed modern luxury with old-world elegance. We passed floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking manicured gardens, walls lined with what I suspected were original Renaissance paintings. As we walked through the double doors, the noise hit me. Not sound-thoughts. Dozens of them, all at once, crashing into my mind like a tidal wave. *I can't believe I'm actually doing this. Marrying a notorious demon. My life is over.* *He might be violent, but his marriages never last long. Two months tops, then divorce. But that severance package... eighteen million dollars and the status of being a Simons? Worth the risk.* *Oh God, she's gorgeous. If that wolfless bi**h gets chosen instead of me, I swear I'll-* *My father's going to k**l me if I don't get selected. The pack needs this alliance. I have to make him notice me.* The thoughts overlapped, tangled, multiplied. It felt like a thousand bees had nested inside my skull, their buzzing growing louder and louder until I couldn't tell where one thought ended and another began. My vision blurred. The hallway tilted. I pressed a hand against the wall, trying to steady myself, but the thoughts kept coming, relentless and overwhelming. *Why is she touching the wall? Is she going to faint? Pathetic.* The guide's thoughts cut through the chaos, sharp with disdain. "Miss Taylor?" Her voice sounded distant, underwater. "Are you quite alright?" I couldn't answer. My throat had closed. My lungs refused to expand. The edges of my vision darkened as panic clawed up my ch**t. *Breathe, *I commanded myself desperately. *Just breathe.* But the voices in my head wouldn't stop. They grew louder, angrier, more frantic. A waiting area, with at least thirty women, all dressed to perfection, all wearing varying expressions of fear and determination. The receiving room doors burst open. A woman stumbled out, makeup streaked down her face, shoulders shaking with sobs. As she rushed past me, her thoughts slammed into mine with devastating clarity. *I've never met such a cruel, heartless Alpha in my life. The way he looked at me-like I was dirt. Like I was nothing. God, I just want to go home. I want to disappear. I want-* She was gone before I could process it, but two more women followed in quick succession, each one crying, each one broadcasting their terror and humiliation directly into my brain. *Monster. He's a monster.* *Those eyes. Those cold, empty eyes. Like a predator deciding whether to k**l you now or later.* *I'm not pretty enough. I'm not smart enough. I'll never be enough for someone like him.* I doubled over, pressing my palms against my temples, trying desperately to shut them out. But I couldn't. The ability was too new, too raw. I had no control. "Miss Taylor!" The guide's hand gripped my elbow, steadying me. "You're next. Pull yourself together." I forced my head up, blinking away the spots dancing across my vision. Two guards flanked the entrance, massive wolves who watched me with undisguised contempt. *Run, *every instinct screamed. *Run now while you still can.* But I'd seen the guards. I'd seen how the estate was locked down tighter than a prison. Even if I made it past them, where would I go? Back to a father who'd dr**ged and sold me? Back to a sister who'd stolen my boyfriend and laughed about it? I had nowhere to run. No one to save me. So I did the only thing I could. I straightened my spine, lifted my chin, and walked through those doors like I had a choice in any of this. The receiving room was enormous. But despite its size, the air felt suffocating, pressing down on me from all sides. And then I saw him. Sebastian Simons sat in the center of the room on a leather sofa that looked more like a throne. Even seated, his presence dominated the space. Tall. Powerfully built. He radiated the kind of authority that made people instinctively want to kneel. Dark hair. High cheekbones. A straight nose. Every feature sharp and defined. His eyes... Green. Piercing. Intense and unforgiving. Those eyes locked onto mine. And suddenly, the world went silent. All the voices-the screaming, buzzing chaos that had been tearing my mind apart-vanished in an instant. I couldn't hear his thoughts. Couldn't sense anything from him except... presence. Weight. Power. It was the most peaceful silence I'd experienced since this cu**ed ability had awakened. And this peace, ironically, came from the very man most likely to k**l me. Chapter 4 Mate Arrives At The Worst Time Sebastian's POV "Next candidate, Alpha," the guide's voice droned through the mind-link. I didn't bother responding. Just watched the trembling she-wolf across from me with the same detached interest I'd give a mosquito. She was crying. Again. They always cried. Or they put on that calculated smile-the one that said they'd already spent my money in their heads, already imagined themselves as Luna of the Silver Moon Pack, already calculated exactly how much power sl**ping in my b*d would bring them. This one was a crier. "P-please, Alpha Sebastian," she stammered, tears streaming down her carefully made-up face, ruining the expensive cosmetics she'd probably applied specifically for this interview. "I would be honored to serve as your Luna. I've trained my whole life for this position. I'm-I'm from a good bl**dline, my father is Beta of-" "Get out." She flinched as if I'd struck her. "But-" "Out." The command in my voice had her scrambling from her chair so fast she nearly tripped over her designer heels. She fled the room with a choked sob, the door slamming behind her. Silence. Blessed, temporary silence. I leaned back in my chair, pressing my fingers against my temples where a headache was beginning to pulse. How many candidates had I seen now? Eight? Nine? I'd lost count somewhere between the blonde who'd reeked of desperation and the redhead who'd actually tried to slip me her hotel room key. This entire charade was beneath me. Degrading. In**lting. And yet here I was. Again. *I can't remember which one this is, but this selection should be for the sixth time, *Ryder supplied unhelpfully. *Seventh, *I corrected. *This would be number seven.* My wolf snorted. *Ah yes. Lucky number seven. Maybe this chosen one will last longer than-* *Don't.* I didn't want to think about the others. Didn't want to examine too closely what had happened to the six women who'd worn my ring, shared my name, and then... vanished. Died. Disappeared under mysterious circumstances that the media loved to speculate about endlessly. The Bl**d Moon Curse, they called it. As if I'd personally mu**ered them. As if their deaths hadn't been carefully arranged by some mysterious force. The door opened, and my mother swept in without knocking-because of course she did. Mila Simons had never met a boundary she respected when it came to her children. "Sebastian, darling." She perched on the edge of the sofa, ignoring my growl of irritation. "You're scowling. You'll get wrinkles." "I'm scowling because I'm being forced to participate in this medieval bride market for the seventh time, Mother." "Oh, don't be so dramatic." She waved a dismissive hand. "It's hardly medieval. We're using very modern interview techniques-" "You're parading unmated she-wolves in front of me like livestock at an auction." "Because you refuse to find a mate on your own!" Her voice sharpened. "Sebastian, you're Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in North America. You need a Luna. The pack needs stability. Needs an heir. And perhaps..." Her expression softened. "Perhaps this time, you'll find your fated mate. Someone who can break this curse-" "There is no curse," I said flatly. "Just bad luck and worse timing." "Six wives-" "Don't mention it." She fell silent, but I could feel her disapproval. My father's presence joined hers in my mind-Titus Simons, former Alpha, adding his own weighted expectation to the pressure already crushing my ch**t. *Your mother is right, son, *his voice rumbled through the mind-link. *This isn't about romance. It's about duty. Responsibility. The pack elders are getting restless. They need to see strength, stability. A Luna by your side.* *Then maybe the pack elders should marry someone themselves,* I shot back. *Sebastian-* I severed the link, shutting both parents out. Let them be offended. They'd recover. They always did. "One more," I told my mother aloud. "I'll see one more candidate. Then I'm done for today." "Actually, darling, there are still twelve-" "One. More." She sighed but didn't argue further, communicating something through the pack link. A moment later, the guide's voice filtered into my head. *Next candidate ready, Alpha. Emilia Taylor of the Frostridge Pack.* Another nobody from some failing pack, probably. Sent here like a sacrificial lamb by a desperate Alpha trying to secure an alliance with the Silver Moon Pack. I almost felt sorry for her. The door opened. And the entire world tilted sideways. *Mate. Mate. MATE.* Ryder was going absolutely insane in my head, howling and pacing like a caged animal finally catching the scent of freedom. *Shut up, *I snarled internally. I couldn't believe it. After all these years, all these failures, all these carefully staged "bride selections" designed to appease my parents and the pack elders-now the universe decided to throw my fated mate in my path? The irony was almost funny. I'd stopped believing in fated mates years ago. After Abigail, after the betrayal, after watching love turn into a weapon used to destroy me-I'd written off the whole concept as romantic ga**age designed to manipulate desperate wolves. But the moment Emilia Taylor walked through that door, Ryder had recognized her instantly. And unlike the beast's usual bloodthirsty enthusiasm, this time his reaction was different. Protective. Possessive. Reverent. *She's perfect. Finally. After all this time-* *She's wolfless, *I reminded him coldly. *So what? She's OURS.* That was the problem, wasn't it? She was ours. My fated mate. The one person in this world who was supposedly designed specifically for me. But she didn't seem to recognize me. Chapter 5 One Reason Not to Choose You Emilia's POV I stared at Alpha Sebastian, too startled to look away, too relieved by the sudden quiet to remember I was supposed to be afraid. He stared back. Something flickered in his expression-surprise, maybe? His eyes narrowed slightly, studying me with an intensity that should have been uncomfortable but instead felt almost... hungry. The silence stretched between us, loaded with something I couldn't name. *Why isn't she crying?* I distantly heard the guide's thought from near the door. *Why isn't she running?* Why wasn't I? Maybe because after hours of voices screaming in my head, a man who gave me silence felt less like a monster and more like salvation. Or maybe because despite everything I'd heard about Sebastian Simons-the violence, the dead wives, the cruelty-the way he was looking at me didn't feel cruel at all. It felt possessive. Focused. Like he'd been waiting his entire life for me to walk through that door. "Sit," he said finally, his voice a low rumble that sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. I sat. His gaze never left mine. If anything, it intensified, tracking every movement I made as I settled into the chair across from him. *Why does he keep staring at her like that?* The guide's confused thought drifted from behind me. *He barely looked at the others for more than a few seconds. What's so special about this wolfless girl?* I wondered the same thing. Sebastian leaned back slightly, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. "You're not afraid." It wasn't a question. It was an observation, tinged with something that might have been curiosity. "Should I be?" I asked quietly. His lips curved into the smallest hint of a smile. "Everyone else has been." "Maybe everyone else had something to lose," I replied. "I don't." That seemed to intrigue him. He tilted his head slightly, those green eyes never wavering from my face. The silence between us felt different now. Charged. Electric. I should have been terrified. This was the man who'd buried six wives. The notorious Alpha whose temper was legendary, whose cruelty was whispered about across multiple packs. Instead, all I felt was a strange, dizzy sense of calm. As long as I sat here, in his presence, my mind was blessedly quiet. The chaos couldn't touch me. "I need to ask you a question," Sebastian said finally. "The same one I've asked every woman who's come through that door today." "Alright." "How many times have I been married?" "Six," I answered immediately. It wasn't exactly a secret. The whole supernatural community knew about him. "And do you think," he continued, his voice dropping lower, more dangerous, "that a man who can't maintain a successful marriage has any business running a company worth billions?" Ah. So that was the question that had made all those women cry. It was a trap, of course. Answer yes, and you're calling him incompetent. Answer no, and you're dismissing the significance of six failed marriages. Either way, you lose. But I'd spent my entire life navigating traps set by people who wanted me to fail. "Of course you can," I said calmly, meeting his gaze without flinching. "Personal relationships have nothing to do with professional capability. Some of the most successful CEOs in history had disastrous private lives. The two aren't connected." Silence. Sebastian's expression shifted-surprise melting into something darker, more pleased. A smirk played at the corner of his mouth. "Interesting answer," he murmured. He leaned forward suddenly, closing the distance between us. I could smell him now-mint and cedar, clean and masculine and utterly intoxicating. "Tell me, Emilia Taylor," he said softly, my name on his lips sending another involuntary shiver through me. "Why shouldn't I marry you?" My brain stuttered to a halt. "I-what?" "You heard me." His eyes gleamed with dark amusement. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't choose you as my seventh bride right now." One reason. He wanted one reason why he shouldn't marry me. My thoughts scrambled. This was it-the moment that would determine whether I walked out of here as Sebastian Simons' seventh bride or just another failed candidate. The silence in my head, that blessed, merciful silence his presence gave me, made it almost impossible to think clearly. Almost. "Because," I said slowly, meeting those intense green eyes, "I have absolutely no intention of dying for you." His eyebrows rose fractionally. "Excuse me?" I leaned forward, matching his posture. "Six wives, Alpha Sebastian. Six. And according to every rumor, every whispered story, every sensational headline-they're all dead or missing. So if you're looking for wife number seven to follow the same pattern, you should absolutely not choose me. Because I plan to be extraordinarily difficult to k**l." For a heartbeat, the room was utterly still. Then Sebastian Simons threw his head back and laughed. It wasn't a polite chuckle or a sardonic snort. It was a genuine, full-throated laugh that softened his entire face. The harsh lines softened. The coldness in his eyes melted into something almost... human. "You," he said, still smiling, "are either the bravest woman I've ever met or the most fo**ish." "Can't I be both?" His smile widened into something hungry. "Tell me, Miss Taylor. Why are you so confident you'll be different from the others?" Because I can't hear your thoughts, I wanted to say. Because you're the only person in this entire building whose mind is blessedly, perfectly silent to me. Because standing near you is the first peace I've had in days. But I couldn't say any of that. "Because unlike them," I said instead, "I'm not here looking for love, or money, or status. I'm here because my family's pack is drowning in debt and you're the life raft they've thrown me toward. I was sacrificed here. That makes me pragmatic, not desperate. And pragmatic people tend to survive." Something flickered in his expression-surprise, perhaps? Or amusement? "Pragmatic," he repeated, tasting the word. "I like that." "I can be your seventh wife. And your last." He stood abruptly, and I had to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. God, he was tall. The kind of presence that filled a room and demanded submission. But I didn't lower my gaze. "Fine," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr that sent shivers down my spine. "You want to be my seventh bride? Then I'll give you a chance, if only for your courage. But remember-it doesn't matter who I choose, because I have no intention of loving any woman. Let's see how long your confidence lasts." He strode toward the door, then paused, glancing back at me over his shoulder. "Are you coming, or do I need to send someone to carry you?" I stood, tugging at the hem of my dress with shaking hands that I hoped he didn't notice. "I can walk perfectly well on my own, thank you." "We'll see about that." The moment we stepped out of the room, every single pair of eyes locked onto Sebastian and me. "Alpha Sebastian, have you made your decision? " the guide asked in a low voice, confused to see him leaving the room already. "That's right. Her. " Sebastian tilted his chin slightly, pointing at me. Chapter 6 The Seventh Choice Emilia's POV After making the announcement, he walked away without a second glance, as if choosing a bride, a Luna, was no different from picking out a pet. Every woman in that waiting area was stunned. Their thoughts crashed into my mind like a tsunami after the peaceful silence of Sebastian's presence. [That nobody?] [What does she have that I don't?] [This has to be a mistake...] [How dare she...] Jealousy, disbelief, rage. All of it crashed over me. "Since Alpha Sebastian has personally chosen his bride, the selection ends here," the guide stepped forward, though I could hear the doubt screaming in her thoughts. [This makes no sense. Why would he choose her? Why?] "Really? Her?" someone gasped, pointing at me. "But she's... she's wolfless!" "Ladies, please," the guide said firmly. "Alpha Sebastian's choice should never be questioned." "Well, I'm questioning it!" The voice rang out clear and sharp. A brown-haired woman pushed her way to the front of the crowd. I recognized her immediately. Vanessa Sterling, daughter of the Moonridge Pack's Beta. "There must be some mistake," Vanessa insisted, turning to the guide with an expression of confused innocence that would've been convincing if I couldn't hear her thoughts. [That pathetic little bi**h. How dare she steal what should be mine?] The guide's jaw tightened. "Miss Sterling, I assure you there's been no mistake. Alpha Sebastian made his choice very clearly..." "His choice?" Vanessa laughed. "You expect me to believe that Alpha Sebastian Simons, one of the most powerful Alphas in North America, chose her?" She flung a hand in my direction like I was something diseased. Murmurs of agreement rippled through the remaining candidates. Several of them were nodding, emboldened by Vanessa's audacity. "Miss Sterling," the guide warned, "I really must insist that you..." "She's a witch." The words dropped into the room, and everyone went still. Vanessa's eyes glittered with wicked triumph as she turned to face the other candidates. "Emilia Taylor isn't just wolfless. Her mother was a witch. Everyone in the Frostridge Pack knows it. She's half-witch, half-wolf. A disgusting hybrid who shouldn't even exist." "Don't you see?" Vanessa continued, warming to her subject now. "She must have used some kind of spell on Alpha Sebastian. Bewitched him. It's the only explanation for why he'd choose her over any of us." Several women gasped. Others looked uncertain. "That's quite an accusation, Miss Sterling," the guide said coldly. "Do you have any proof..." "I don't need proof!" Vanessa snapped. "Look at her! She's nobody! The ba**ard daughter of a failing Alpha, raised by a witch mother who danced in b*rs. She has no wolf, no status, no prospects. The only way someone like her could catch Alpha Sebastian's attention is through witchcraft." My hands balled into fists at my sides. The words should have hurt. But I'd heard worse. So instead of flinching, I smiled, a cold glint flashed in my eyes... ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &2&