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Mated To The Enemy.

Mated To The Enemy.

Amal A. Usman

5.0
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105
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"I, Amelia Anderson, reject Nickolas Adams II as my mate." I've had enough. I don't know why I didn't reject him the moment I arrived here. What the heck was I stalling for? Nickolas and I don't have a single chance in heaven of being together. It's better to feel immense pain now than keep enduring little bits every time we run into each other. The muscles in his back tighten, but he doesn't turn back and says, "Accepting your rejection would be doing you a favor, and that's the last thing I would ever do for you." He walks away after that. ***** Nickolas, the Lycan king, had lost hope of ever finding his mate, resigned to the belief that he was destined to spend the rest of his days on Earth without her. However, fate takes an unexpected turn when he embarks on a journey to the werewolf kingdom. In a twist of destiny, Nickolas discovers his mate-a werewolf, and not just any werewolf, but the princess and daughter of his father's murderer, Amelia Anderson. Despite her royal status, Amelia's life is far from the fairy tale one might expect. A unique aspect of her identity brings difficulty, and being the sole individual among her peers without a mate intensifies her sense of isolation. The trajectory of her seemingly mundane life takes an unforeseen turn the day she encounters her mate. Suddenly, she is thrust into a reality she never imagined, and Amelia finds herself paying a steep price for a lifetime of sins she didn't commit.

Chapter 1 No.1

I gaze at my reflection in the mirror, tilting my head to the side as I assess myself. Biting my bottom lip, I ponder whether I've chosen the perfect dress for tonight. The lime-colored tulle dress boasts draped asymmetrical cutouts and a statement shoulder, complemented by an open sleeve. Marie, my wolf, insists it's beautiful, assuring me that everyone will be dazzled by it. Still, doubts linger.

The Alpha kids have a way of making me feel inferior, even in a thousand-dollar gown. Though they never express it to my face, their silent judgments are evident. It's written all over their faces. However, I refuse to let it affect me. Despite the doubts, I know I'm rocking this dress, and I'll confidently stride into that room as if I own it. Let them think what they want; tonight, I'm showcasing a different kind of strength-one that doesn't crumble under their unspoken criticisms.

"You look stunning, sweetheart," a warm voice whisper behind me. I glance in the mirror and catch Mom entering my room. Her beautiful blonde hair, a trait I inherited, is elegantly styled with a slick middle-down part and super straight strands. In contrast, my own locks are fashioned in a teased chignon with loose tendrils framing my face. A small smile plays on my lips. Mom always knows just what to say to make me feel better. It must be a mom thing.

"Thank you, Mom," I reply, turning around to face her.

"Gosh, you resemble me so much when I was younger," she remarks, taking my hand in hers. Mom's gorgeous sky-blue eyes, which I also stole from her, sparkle with adoration.

"I doubt Dad would say the same," I quip.

"That's his business," she chuckles. "C'mon, let's go. I don't want your father giving me an earful about how we ladies take forever to get ready." She grabs my hand, and together, we make our way out of the room.

Descending the sweeping staircase, we join Dad at the foot. He doesn't see Mom and me approaching as he is typing on his phone. Being a billionaire and an Alpha king keeps him busy. He is dressed nicely in a black tux with his raven black hair gelled back.

"Happy birthday, Dad," I greet. He's hitting the big 5-0 today.

"Thank you, baby girl," he responds, pocketing his phone and wrapping his arms around Mom's waist. Nuzzling into the nape of her neck, he takes a deep inhale, murmuring words against her skin that bring a smile to Mom's face. I feel a tug in my heart watching them. It's been four years since I turned 18, but I still haven't found my mate. My werewolf college classmates assume it's because I'm cursed, and with each passing year, I can't help and fear they might be right especially with my family's history. I know four years isn't a lot, but when everyone you grew up with is already mated, you feel like it's more. But I shouldn't be thinking about this tonight. It will sour my mood, and I don't want to ruin the night before it starts. I drive the thoughts away and correct Dad about something.

"Dad! We've had this conversation. You can't keep calling me baby girl. I'm 22 years old now. You should only address me by my name," I assert as we move away from the foot of the stairs, heading towards the ballroom in the castle where Dad's birthday dinner ball is being held.

"I think I have the right to call you whatever I wish, my dear," he retorts with a smile. I huff and roll my eyes in response.

"Caleb's here," Mom interjects, and I turn around to see my elder brother walking toward us.

"Ready, everyone?" Caleb asks, linking his arms with mine once he reaches us by the ballroom entrance. Caleb is the spitting image of our father, except for his blond hair. The same blue eyes and muscular toned body, along with their shared Alpha king aura that that sends everyone trembling.

"Yes," Mom answers and someone inside the ballroom announces our arrival.

The ballroom stands as a hall of magnificence, elegance, and beauty all rolled into one. Crystal chandeliers adorn the ceiling, casting a dazzling glow across the room. Tables and chairs graced every corner, adorned with the finest foods on gleaming plates. Positioned ahead, a band awaited to resume playing the enchanting melody that had accompanied our entrance.

As we make our way through the regal space, heads bow in respectful greeting, acknowledging our presence. My father reciprocates with a gracious expression of gratitude, extending appreciation to all in the room. Once we reach the center, the live band seamlessly resumes playing classical tunes, and the crowd gracefully disperses, creating a sea of conversations and connections. The air is alive with the harmonious blend of music and socialization, creating an atmosphere of grand celebration.

"Where is your mate?" I inquire of Caleb as we walk around the room and away from our parents.

"With her mom," Caleb replies, grabbing a champagne flute from a passing waiter and taking one for me too.

"Is everything all right?" I ask, a touch of concern in my voice.

"Yes, Aunt Ekaterina just wants to ensure she and the baby are fine before she pops next week."

"That's good to hear." I take a sip of my drink and scan the room. I get a few stares from my peers, but I can't tell if they approve of what I'm wearing or not, but I don't care. Some unmated younglings gaze lingers a little too closely on my chest and thighs. I don't know if I should be pleased; they think my body is worth staring at or insulted they have the guts to stare at all.

"Anything?" Caleb says, drawing my attention away from the crowd around me.

"Nope," I reply. Caleb is asking if my wolf picked any unique scent that would mean my mate is here. Alphas bring their unmated to these events. I had been really hoping to find my mate tonight, but it seems that won't be the case.

"Don't worry, you will find him soon," Caleb reassures me with a small smile. I respond with a tight-lipped smile of my own and down the remainder of my drink. A peculiar taste lingers in my mouth after finishing the champagne. I stare at the glass, wondering if something was added to it. I don't feel drugged, but the taste is distinctly off.

"Does your drink taste funny?" I inquire, bringing my empty champagne flute to my nose. It smells normal. Hmm.

"No, why do you ask?" Caleb responds, glancing at his half-empty glass. I consider that I might be overthinking things. Maybe the burrito I had for lunch is playing tricks on my taste buds.

"No reason. Let me go to the bar and get a refill. I'll be back," I inform him and start walking away.

"Sure."

As I make my way to the bar, I pass by my peers who are discussing the tardiness of the lycan king. Apparently, he is running late, and some speculate it might be intentional. I tend to agree; everything I've heard about him suggests a strong dislike for tardiness. I wonder why he would be late today. Upon reaching the bar, I place an order for my drink.

"Thank you," I say to the bartender as he hands me a glass of red wine.

I move away from the bar, scanning the room for my brother as I walk. Unable to find him, I head toward the back door to get some fresh air. Closing my eyes, I breathe in the cool night breeze, lifting my glass to take a sip, only for someone to snatch it out of my hand.

"A princess like you shouldn't drink so much," a male voice says from my right. Recognizing the voice, I roll my eyes and turn to face him. "Hello, Blake."

I scowl, wondering what he wants. He wasn't my favorite person in the world, always trying to get into my pants.

He doesn't say anything, just stares at me from head to toe. His green eyes linger on my chest, and he licks his lips, making my skin crawl with disgust.

"You look beautiful tonight, princess," another voice says from my left. I was starting to wonder where his identical twin, Jake, had left himself. He was also my least favorite, following in his brother's footsteps.

"Jake," I spit out, rolling my eyes at him.

"Hello, princess," Jake smiles, running his eyes over my body.

"Goodbye," I grab my drink from Blake's hand, but he doesn't let go, causing my drink to spill on my dress.

"Shit! See what you've done!" I curse, anger building in my chest as I look at my ruined dress.

"C'mon now, princess, we didn't mean for this to happen," Jake says, rubbing his hand on my chest in a foolish attempt to clean the stain but using it as an opportunity to touch me.

"Get your filthy hand off," I slap his hand away, glaring at him. "Don't you dare touch me again."

"Ouch, princess. He only wanted to help," Blake says, and I just roll my eyes at them, walking away before I do something I'll regret. They always caused trouble when I saw them, and now, because of them, I had to change my beautiful dress. I look at the stained fabric as I walk back upstairs, sighing. Good thing I had two dresses picked out for tonight.

"Careful there, love," someone says, causing me to lift my eyes, realizing I was about to bump into them. My nose catches the strong smell of a lycan, but that's not what leaves me in a daze. The handsome lycan that just spoke in a British accent with blond hair and strands fanning his face is smiling down at me. As he pushes the hair back, revealing his greyish-blue eyes, I watch, transfixed.

"Miss?" he says, waving his hand across my face. I blink, my cheeks reddening with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, dear," he replies, still smiling. I have to say he has such a lovely smile.

"Okay, bye," I say, attempting to run away from him but miss my footing. I teeter dangerously close to falling, but the handsome lycan catches me before I hit the ground.

His warm arms envelop my waist, holding me firmly against him. "You need to be careful, love," he says, his breath brushing my face, sending warmth through me.

"T-T-Thank you," I stammer, still trying to wrap my head around how I fit perfectly against his chest.

"You're welcome," he replies, still holding me in his arms, staring into my eyes. The air around us becomes thick with tension as I continue to remain in his arms, gazing back into his grayish-blue eyes. They reflect the smile I bet is grazing his lips right now.

"Princess, don't go like that. We didn't mean..." I hear Jake's voice trailing off as he runs toward us, but he stops short once he sees us. Realizing the position I'm in, I quickly pull away from the lycan.

"Eric," Blake says, eye-widening upon seeing the lycan. Eric? Is that his name and do they know him, but how?

"Did you do this?" The lycan asks, pointing at the wine stain on my chest. The twins shake their heads, but Eric arches a brow at them. In the blink of an eye, they admit the truth.

"Love, I think I'll see you later. The boys and I need to chat," Eric says, unwrapping his hand from my waist and walking toward the twins. In another blink, he grabs them, and they're all gone.

"Chat? What are you talking about?" I ask, spinning around, searching for where they went but can't seem to figure it out. It feels like they just disappeared into thin air.

I remain frozen, confused by what just happened in the last few seconds-the intense encounter with the lycan and his peculiar reaction to the twins spilling wine on my dress. I don't know what's odder, but neither scenario makes sense. A thought roams my head wondering if he could have been my mate and that's why I felt so comfortable in his arms, but Marie didn't respond at all to his scent or being close to him. Hmm? I don't think he is then. Deciding to leave it for now, I head to my room to change.

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