

The Witch and the Beta
brendagoldenwriter · Completed · 207.9k Words
Introduction
There, she crosses paths with Beta James—a disciplined, rugged widower with a strong sense of duty.
Their undeniable chemistry ignites a fierce, forbidden passion, but James resists, convinced she's too young despite fate marking her as his second-chance mate. When she walks away, he fights the desperate urge to claim her, only to realize too late that letting her go might have been his greatest mistake.
As their worlds collide, Vicky stumbles into a deadly game of power and deception. Wizards and vampires have been hiding the truth from her—secrets that could spark a war.
Can Vicky and James overcome their differences and the ghosts of her past, or will the forces conspiring against them tear their destiny apart?
Chapter 1
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- Vicky * * *
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School hallway.
A narrow stretch of linoleum and lockers that smelled faintly of gym socks and teenage angst.
The children laughed and pointed at me, their voices sharp and gleeful, slicing through the air like little daggers. Me being called the little whale, when all I ever wanted was to be the little mermaid—graceful, ethereal, slipping through life with a shimmering tail. But reality was much worse: short, chubby, and cursed with four eyes, thanks to the thick glasses perched on my nose.
I ran, my sneakers squeaking against the floor, the sounds of boys imitating the squeals of a pig chasing me like a pack of hounds. Their mocking grunts echoed in my ears.
"No ... Stop!"
It was when I fell that the feeling became unbearable, a suffocating weight that jolted me awake.
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I was having a nightmare, one of those recurring ones that clung to me like damp fog, seeping into my subconscious night after night. I sat up in bed, my chest heaving, only to realize I’d forgotten that Toby’s arm was draped over me, heavy and warm. He was strong and beautiful, and one of my friends, my best friend.
I gently lifted his arm, disentangling myself from his possessive grip, and stumbled toward the bathroom.
A cold shower was what I needed. I stood under the spray, letting it cascade over me, then grabbed my brush and worked it through my black hair with its bold red highlights, taming the wild strands into something sleek and defiant.
Good makeup followed: a sweep of eyeliner, a bold lip, a mask to hide the vulnerability still trembling beneath the surface.
I finished with a spritz of my favorite perfume, a scent that wrapped around me like armor, floral and fierce.
I slipped into my short V-neck dress, the fabric hugging my curves before flaring into a loose skirt that fell to my thick thighs, concealing my round ass — my full moon, as Toby called it with that lopsided grin of his.
I laughed alone in the quiet of my room, the sound bubbling up unexpectedly.
My breasts had been full since I was ten, a precocious development that set me apart from the other girls. It gave the impression I was much older, drawing the eyes of boys like moths to a flame and igniting jealousy in the skinny girls who whispered behind bony hands.
The time for bullying ended when I became a teenager, when my body — chubby, with a round ass, big breasts, and a full, expressive mouth — transformed from a target into a magnet. It attracted men of all species: werewolves, vampires, wizards, and humans who couldn’t resist the pull of something different.
Toby said I was delightful, a word he murmured against my skin with a reverence that made my heart ache. We had always been friends, tethered by years of shared secrets.
He was the son of a human and a werewolf, a hybrid who straddled two worlds with ease. He’d come to Salem every vacation to spend time with his mother, and we’d let the summers unfold — free and wild, knowing we had each other if no one else came along.
Over the years, we grew bolder, our connection deepening into something fierce and unshakable. He was very beautiful. They all are, those creatures of myth and moonlight.
I was a human, but I lived among other beings in this strange, vibrant world, coexisting with them in a harmony I’d fought to find.
I was raised by Madonna, the owner of a third-rate brothel on the edge of town. She was a woman with a smoker’s rasp and a heart big enough to accept everyone, even an orphan like me, left in the trash like yesterday’s garbage.
At age twelve, I ran away from the nuns at the orphanage in Salem, the capital of Oregon, their starched habits and stern faces suffocating me. I was tired of being dismissed by boys who thought me too much and ridiculed by girls who envied what they couldn’t understand.
But the truth was, I didn’t know where I was going. I just got lost in the city, wandering the streets at night with no sense of the danger lurking in the shadows.
That’s when she found me, Madonna, her sharp eyes glinting under the flicker of a streetlamp. She said she’d never seen more expressive eyes than mine and fell in love, but with the kind of fierce maternal instinct that claims a stray as its own.
She tried to take me to the house I didn’t have, offering me food when I was starving, toys when I’d never had playthings, and a home that eventually became my Women’s Club — a sanctuary I built from the ashes of her legacy.
I spent eight years under her wing, learning the ways of all kinds of people and supernatural beings.
Madonna was the mother life gave me, flawed and fierce, and I loved her with every fiber of my being. She left when I turned twenty, disappearing on my birthday like a ghost dissolving into mist. I cursed her for it, even though I didn’t know the exact date of my birth.
When I was found in that dumpster, a squalling bundle with a few days of life clinging to me, they slapped a birth certificate together: April 12th.
And I kept it, though it felt like a cruel jest.
Madonna — Bad Dona, as I sometimes called her with a smirk—had a wicked sense of humor about it all. She’d laugh, her voice rough as gravel, and tell me I was born to rise from the muck.
I walked out of my suite bathroom like a star, head high, shoulders back, the remnants of my nightmare sloughing off.
Toby was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at me.
We hadn’t seen each other for about three years — he’d been off training with his pack in Nevada, honing his strength, his instincts, his everything. Then he appeared out of nowhere at my club the night before, striding through the door like he’d never left. And it was as if time hadn’t touched us, as if the years apart were just a blink.
He had more muscles now, his body all sharp lines and defined power, but that familiar lust still burned in his gaze — for his chubby girl, for me.
"Good morning, beautiful! "
"Good morning, wolf!"
"Where are you going?" Toby’s voice rumbled low, thick with a hunger that wasn’t just for food. He looked at me, his golden-brown eyes glinting with lust as he licked his lips, slow and deliberate. Those eyes were darkening, I still had an effect on him, even after all these years. "Are you going to leave me here alone?"
"Toby, you’re not Little Red Riding Hood, you’re the big bad wolf," I shot back, crossing my arms and leaning against the doorframe of my suite. "Tell me what you need. Why’d you show up like this, no warning, no call? Wasn’t there supposed to be that mating ceremony? Haven’t you met your partner yet? Haven’t you turned twenty-one yet?" The questions tumbled out, sharp and rapid, my curiosity battling with the unease gnawing at me.
"Little witch, you talk too much early on. Makes me dizzy."
"It's called a hangover, Toby. You drank like hell."
"Look who’s talking — you’re not exactly Mother Teresa yourself," he retorted, a grin tugging at his lips. "And no, I haven’t found my partner yet. Again. I’m starting to think she’s already dead—or maybe the Moon Goddess didn’t bother making one for me. Probably figures a hybrid doesn’t deserve it." His voice dipped, bitter and raw, and for a moment, the cocky werewolf I knew slipped away, leaving behind a glimpse of something vulnerable.
"Really, Toby?" I softened, stepping closer to him. "I’m sorry. I know you believe in true, fated love and you were desperate to find her. But you can wait a little longer, can’t you?"
"And make you wait too?" He tilted his head, those dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath hitch. "We took an oath when we were twenty-two, remember?"
I laughed, a short, sharp sound. "Toby Wilson, I know you. You didn’t just leave your pack, travel two days by bus, to ‘eat’ your best friend, and then slink back home. What’s going on? Spill it."
He sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair, the muscles in his arm flexing under the motion. "Debts," he admitted finally. "I can’t get a better position than kitchen grunt. I’m a gamma—a hybrid gamma — which, in your human world, means I’m below an intern. Less than nothing. I’m drowning in it, Vick."
"Well, I’m not the love of your life," I said, grinning wickedly as an idea sparked, "but if it’s money you need, I’ve got you. Enter the show!"
He blinked, caught off guard. "My baby boys are gonna blow the bank with a sexy werewolf? Because seriously, Toby, you were horny last night."
"How was I?" he asked, leaning back on the bed, his voice dropping into a playful growl. "I’ve always been a girl’s dream."
"It was cute back then," I teased, "but now? You’re sexy as hell."
"I missed that full, dirty mouth of yours, Vick," he said, his grin widening, all teeth and mischief.
"Competing with humans is easy, cat," I replied, tossing my hair over my shoulder. "Wolves still show up here sometimes, but you? You put them to shame now."
"Now I eat, baby," he said, patting his flat stomach. "No shortage of food, despite working my tail off."
"Come on, then — dance at my club. You win, I win!"
"Seriously, Vicky? A third-rate nightclub?" he asked, skepticism creasing his brow.
"No!" I protested, puffing out my chest with pride. "I raised the level. Now our audience is women — mostly — and, of course, the gays. Everyone pays well, and you don’t have to do a full program, just dance. Unless you want to…"
"Absolutely not," he cut in, shaking his head so fast I thought it might spin off. "If my father finds out, I’m a dead werewolf."
"There’s four thousand bucks a night," I said, letting the number hang in the air like bait.
"No, seriously? Working all month — "
"Per night, Toby," I interrupted, nodding firmly. "For the main dancer. And some nights, you get more tips, private parties. Eight thousand, easy."
"In one night?" His jaw dropped.
"Vicky’s done good, huh?"
"What you’ve built here is wonderful, woman! Madonna would be proud of you, wouldn’t she? Her investment in that Advertising degree paid off. Witch, we could get married if you want!" he added, half-joking, though his gaze lingered on me, hot and appreciative. "You were always hot. The boys dated the skinny girls, but they dreamed of you—and that ass that looks like a damn ball…"
I burst out laughing, the sound bright and unfiltered. "Toby, I’ve got some hookups — "
"No boyfriend?" he cut in, eyebrows shooting up. "Seriously, baby, because you look amazing."
"After Alexander, that possessive vampire Madonna dated, I’m done, " I said, my voice hardening. "I don’t want to know about any man or anything claiming to own me. No boyfriend, no suffocating ‘mate.’ I’m free, and I like it that way."
"No, dear, I have to disagree," he said, his tone gentling. "It’s beautiful to see the love of true companions. Soulmates."
"I don’t believe in soulmates, Toby," I shot back, waving a hand dismissively. "What I do believe in is coffee. I’m hungry!"
"Do you eat like a bird in the morning?" he asked, smirking as he stood, stretching his long, muscled frame.
"More like an ostrich!"
"How modest," he quipped, following me toward the kitchen. "I was gonna say a pterodactyl!"
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Last Chapters
#122 Missing California
Last Updated: 5/31/2025#121 The Awakening
Last Updated: 5/31/2025#120 The final
Last Updated: 5/31/2025#119 The challenge
Last Updated: 5/31/2025#118 Saving Vicky
Last Updated: 5/31/2025#117 The argument
Last Updated: 5/31/2025#116 The Capture
Last Updated: 5/31/2025#115 The plan
Last Updated: 5/31/2025#114 Death
Last Updated: 5/31/2025#113 Goodbye, eternity
Last Updated: 5/31/2025
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It is agreeing to that one favour that changed my entire life. We spent more time together outside of work, which changed our relationship. I see him in a different light, and he sees me in one.
I know it is wrong to get involved with my boss. I try to fight it but fail. It is only sex. What harm could it do? I couldn’t be more wrong because what starts as only sex changes direction in a way I could never imagine.
My boss isn’t only dominant at work but in all aspects of his life. I have heard about the Dom/subs relationship, but it isn’t something I ever thought much about. As things heat up between Mr Sutton and me, I am asked to become his submissive. How does one even become such a thing with no experience or desire to be one? It will be a challenge for him and me because I don’t do well at being told what to do outside of work.
I never expected the one thing I knew nothing about would be the same thing to open up an incredible brand-new world to me.
Mated To The Cold Hearted Alpha
"You want me to fuck you, I know it"
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He stood up behind me, one hand holding my hip, and leaned down, his breath ragged against my neck, his voice was husky,
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At the age of 15, I was shocked to hear the ruthless Alpha claim that I was his mate.
To make matters worse, he killed my father, who was trying to protect me. At that time, I successfully ran away from him.
However, when I turned 18, I fell into his trap again.
I hated him and wanted revenge, but the moon goddess had a different plan for me.
I was his mate, and we were fated to be together. No matter the circumstances, my body couldn't resist him.
Forbidden Desires
I nodded once more and approached them. I started with Zion. He sprung up like a water fountain when I ran my hand over him. “Ohh!” I said to myself. I tried not to touch him directly as I lathered him up, but then he had to say, “Use your hands. It’s okay to touch me.” Well, I’m already in hell, so I might as well have some fun. Then, a sinister thought crossed my mind.
I began to stroke him. I heard him groan.
Sophie Deltoro was a shy, innocent, introverted teenager who thought she was invisible. She was living a safe, boring life with her three protective brothers. Then she gets kidnapped by the Mafia King of the Americas and his two sons. All three plan to share her, claim her, and dominate her.
She is swept up in their world of sin and violence, forced into a forbidden relationship, and sent to a school that encourages and applauds the sadistic sexual pleasures of her captors. No one can be trusted. The world Sophie thought she knew never existed. Will she willingly submit to her deepest fantasies, or will she let the darkness consume and bury her? Everyone around her has a secret and Sophie seems to be the center of them all. Too bad she is a Forbidden Desire.
A pack of their own
Fake Dating Alpha Hockey Captain
When you're being pestered by your ex to get back together, he shows up and tells your ex to fuck off.
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Up North
My hands move from his jaw to his hair, tagging at its ends. His hands travel down my body and pull the material from my shirt up my body, he places a wet kiss right beside my belly button. I tense as I let out a gasp. He makes his way up, showering my stomach with slow kisses, studying my body as he goes until the shirt is completely off and his mouth is on my neck.
Aelin has been mistreated by her pack for as long as she can remember, but as the threats of the Vampire Kingdom becomes more and more palpable, her pack has to call the Northerners to help them train and prepare for the Vampire Kingdom. What happens when the Northern Alpha takes a liking to Aelin?
Heartsong
I looked strong, and my wolf was absolutely gorgeous.
I looked to where my sister is sitting and her and the rest of her posse have jealous fury on their faces. I then look up to where my parents are and they're glaring at my picture, if looks alone could set shit on fire.
I smirk at them then I turn away to face my opponent, everything else falling away but what was here on this platform. I take my skirt and cardigan off. Standing in just my tank and capris, I move into a fighting position and wait for the signal to start -- To fight, to prove, and not hide myself anymore.
This was going to be fun. I thought, a grin on my face.
This book ”Heartsong” contains two books “Werewolf’s Heartsong” and “Witch’s Heartsong”
Mature Audience Only: Contains mature luangege, sex, abuse and violence
Strings of Fate
Like all children, I was tested for magic when I was only a few days old. Since my specific bloodline is unknown and my magic is unidentifiable, I was marked with a delicate swirling pattern around my upper right arm.
I do have magic, just as the tests showed, but it has never lined up with any known Magic species.
I can't breathe fire like a dragon Shifter, or hex people who piss me off like Witches. I can't make potions like an Alchemist or seduce people like a Succubus. Now I don't mean to be unappreciative of the power I do have, it's interesting and all, but it just really doesn't pack much of a punch and most of the time it is just pretty much useless. My special magical skill is the ability to see threads of fate.
Most of life is annoying enough for me, and what never occurred to me is that my mate is a rude, pompous nuisance. He's an Alpha and my friend's twin brother.
“What are you doing? This is my home, you can't just let yourself in!” I try and keep my voice firm but when he turns and fixes me with his golden eyes I shrink back. The look he gives me is imperious and I automatically drop my eyes to the floor as is my habit. Then I force myself to look back up again. He doesn't notice me looking up because he's already looked away from me. He's being rude, I refuse to show that he's scaring me, even though he most definitely is. He glances around and after realising that the only place to sit is the little table with its two chairs he points to it.
“Sit.” he orders. I glare at him. Who is he to order me around like this? How can someone this obnoxious possibly be my soul mate? Maybe I'm still asleep. I pinch my arm and my eyes water a little from the sting of pain.
MY Possessive Mafia Men
"I don't know how long it is going to take you to realize this, honey bunny but you are ours." His deep voice said, yanking my head back so that his intense eyes met mine.
"Your pussy is dripping for us, now be a good girl and spread your legs. I want to have a taste, do you want my tongue gracing your little cunt?"
"Yes, d…daddy." I moaned.
Angelia Hartwell, a young and beautiful college girl, wanted to explore her life. She wanted to know how it feels to have a real orgasm, she wanted to know what it felt like to be a submissive. She wanted to experience sex in the best, dangerous and delicious ways.
In search of fulfilling her sexual fantasies, she found herself in one of the most exclusive dangerous BDSM clubs in the country. There, she catches the attention of three possessive Mafia men. They all three want her by all means.
She wanted one dominant but in-turn she got three possessive ones and one of them being her college professor.
Just one moment, just one dance, her life completely changed.
Nanny and Her Four Alpha Bullies
The Last Spirit Wolf
“LYCANS?! Did you just say LYCANS?!
“Yes Vera!They are coming! Get your people ready.”
I couldn’t believe we actually have Lycans tonight.
I was told growing up that lycans and wolves were mortal enemies.
Rumors also said in order to protect their pureblood, Lycans were not allowed to marry wolves in generations.
I was still surprised but I couldn’t let my mind wander anymore. I’m a doctor.
A badly injured werewolf comes barging in through the E.R door, holding an unconscious wolf. I rush to them and the nurses that were already in their dresses and heels come to their aid.
What the hell happened?
I turn my full attention to the severely injured lycan and for a moment, it’s as if I can feel his slowing heart beat in my own chest. I check his vitals as a nurse reluctantly hooks him to all the machines. As I put my hand on his head to lift his eyelid and check for pupil response, I feel electricity run below my fingertips. What the…?
Without warning, his eyes shoot open startling me and sending both our heart rates through the roof. He looks at me intently; I would never think those eyes are of a man who is barely alive.
He whispers something too low for me to hear. I get closer and as he whispers again; he flat lines and my head is reeling.
Did he just whisper… mate?