Original novel
Off limits to fate, My Alpha, my sin
Start reading →Original title: Off limits to fate, My Alpha, my sin
🌶️🌶️He’s my father’s best friend. The Alpha of our pack. Off limits in every way—until the Moon chose him for me. Alana Melnick has spent her life trying to live up to her bloodline—warrior, daughter of the Beta, born with the ancient Volkmer power running through her veins. But nothing prepares her for the night her heat comes early… or for the way her wolf reacts to Jacob Kheller, the one man she was never supposed to want. When politics force
Original fiction. Characters and events are invented.
Edited by: Huangguo Drama · Updated:
Stories
Title: Off limits to fate, My Alpha, my sin
Source: Inkitt (https://www.inkitt.com/stories/1489653)
Author: B E Harmel
Category: Inkitt · Romantica & Steamy
Synopsis/Opening: 🌶️🌶️He’s my father’s best friend. The Alpha of our pack. Off limits in every way—until the Moon chose him for me. Alana Melnick has spent her life trying to live up to her bloodline—warrior, daughter of the Beta, born with the ancient Volkmer power running through her veins. But nothing prepares her for the night her heat comes early… or for the way her wolf reacts to Jacob Kheller, the one man she was never supposed to want. When politics force
======================================================================
### Chapter 1: Chapter 1
🌶️🌶️He’s my father’s best friend. The Alpha of our pack. Off limits in every way—until the Moon chose him for me.
Alana Melnick has spent her life trying to live up to her bloodline—warrior, daughter of the Beta, born with the ancient Volkmer power running through her veins. But nothing prepares her for the night her heat comes early… or for the way her wolf reacts to Jacob Kheller, the one man she was never supposed to want.
When politics force her father to offer her to another Alpha, the pack braces for war. But fate has already spoken. The mate bond snaps.
Now she belongs to Jacob—by blood, by bond, and by fire.
But their love isn’t the end of the story.
It’s the beginning of a rebellion.
Complete Chapters 20
Rating 4.9 ( 88 reviews ) Age Rating 18+
{"language":"en","storyId":1489653,"genres":[{"name":"Fantasy","path":"/genres/fantasy"},{"name":"Romance","path":"/genres/romance"}],"authorName":"B E Harmel","authorPath":"/brunaharmel","status":"complete","lastUpdatedAt":1762106762,"chaptersCount":20,"rating":4.8522727272727275,"reviewsCount":88,"ageRating":"18+"}
Chapter 1
POV: Alana
The sound of my fist cracking against the leather bag was the only thing keeping me from screaming.
The chain creaked overhead. Sweat dripped from my temple, stinging my eyes. My arms burned, but I didn’t stop. Not when the pain was the only thing louder than the voice in my head.
Future Luna, maybe—if I’m valuable enough.
I struck again, harder this time, until the bag swung on its chain and came back toward me like it wanted to fight.
I spun and slammed it with my elbow, the impact vibrating through my bones. My breath came in sharp bursts. My tank top was soaked through. My knuckles were raw, even under the wraps. I didn’t care.
This was the only place I wasn’t someone’s legacy. Not Charles Melnick’s daughter. Not one of the only females with Alpha blood unmated. Not any Alpha Blood fucking Volkmer-descended Alpha blood . Not a bargaining chip. Not a body to be offered.
Just fists. Just fury. Just me.
Because I would recognize that voice in any cirpassionstance.
The voice was deep. Rough. Too calm.
I turned slowly, heart already racing—and not from the workout.
Alpha Jacob Kheller stood in the doorway of the private training hall, arms crossed, lean muscles straining against the sleeves of a black tactical shirt. Fucking perfect muscles. His dark hair was damp at the edges like he’d just run, and those impossibly blue eyes were fixed on me with that same unreadable calm that made me want to scream.
I hate how handsome and hot and sexy and— Goddess , sometimes I still feel like a teenager around him.
Maybe because he was my first crush—who am I kidding? My only crush. I’ve secretly wanted him forever. All my heat dreams are about him. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s my dad’s hot best friend. Maybe it’s because he’s the Alpha of my pack. Maybe it’s because he’s forbidden.
But honestly? None of it matters.
Because my mind just short-circuits when he’s around.
He stepped into the room, each movement controlled like his body was wired too tightly to ever fully relax. And I hate how he’s always in command.
“Nice of you to join,” I muttered, turning back to the bag and throwing another punch.
“I wasn’t scheduled,” he said simply. “Saw the lights on. Thought I’d spar.”
He never trained with me. Not alone. Not like this.
My heart thudded harder. My wolf stirred.
I didn’t look at him when I spoke again. “I’m not in the mood for a lecture.”
“You’re dropping your guard,” he repeated. “If you’re going to punch like you want to kill something, at least keep your stance tight.”
My lip curled. “Thanks, Alpha.”
He said nothing. I could feel him watching me. Judging me. Or maybe—not judging. Noticing.
I hit the bag again. My breath was faster now, but not from effort. It was him . His scent. The presence that always filled a room like thunder.
And the way my body reacted— heat low in my belly, skin too tight, breath too short —it was instinct. Desire. Something primal I couldn’t suppress anymore.
“I think we both need something physical to clear our minds for what’s coming…” he said.
I exhaled hard. “So you’re also about to be offered to some regional Alpha as a gift?” I needed to say that.
“Watch your mouth. I’m still your Alpha,” he snapped first. Then, quieter—“I never agreed with this. It’s your father’s idea.”
My gaze dropped before I could stop it—chest, hips, arms.
I hated how much I wanted him. Even when I wanted to fight him.
And I hated how good he was at pretending he didn’t want me.
“You want to spar or not?” I asked.
He smirked, stepping forward. Shoulders loose. Hands ready.
I raised my fists and circled him slowly.
Jacob didn’t move. Not at first. He just watched me—calm, unreadable. Like always.
But this time… his gaze dropped.
My skin burned under the weight of it.
He didn’t flinch or shift away like he usually did. He looked . Just for a second.
His nostrils flared. He was scenting me.
His throat bobbed when he swallowed.
His fingers flexed at his sides.
His body reacting—just as mine did.
My pulse quickened. My wolf surged beneath my skin like she’d been waiting for this moment all her life.
All the years of hiding, of silence, of pretending I didn’t want him— they were over .
I was just a kid to him. Just Charles Melnick’s daughter. Off-limits.
He blocked it easily. Of course he did.
But I followed with a low sweep that made him hop back a step. His brow lifted—just a little.
We moved fast and fluid, instinct and training crashing together like waves.
Breath against breath. Skin brushing skin.
My lungs burned—but not from effort.
From the way his scent filled the space—pine and rain and something darker. Masculine. Dominant. The scent that had haunted my dreams since I was fifteen.
From the way his arms flexed every time he blocked me.
From the way our bodies brushed—once, twice, too deliberately to ignore.
The way my wolf paced in my blood, alive with hunger.
He caught my wrist mid-swing, twisted, spun me around, and slammed me down onto the mat. My c hit hard.
One arm wrapped around my waist.
The other gripped my wrist, holding me still.
The tight, hard heat of his body against mine.
The low, controlled pant of his lungs.
His cock— hard , pressed to the curve of my ass.
It was a fucking dream come true.
To turn around. To kiss him. To let go .
He was breathing like I was. Rough. Labored. Unsteady.
He smelled like heat and control barely hanging on.
“Alana,” he said, voice low, hoarse. “You need to—”
“Let me go?” I whispered, not sure if I wanted him to.
He cursed under his breath and stepped back—too fast, like touching me burned.
I turned slowly to face him. My chest heaving. Skin flushed. And I knew— knew —my eyes were glowing.
“I felt nothing,” he said tightly. “I was sparring with you.”
But I saw it in the tense line of his jaw.
In the way his hands curled into fists.
The way his voice came strained—like he couldn’t believe it himself.
That was all the confirmation I needed.
I smirked, slow and wicked. “So you’re not as cold as you pretend to be.”
My green eyes locked onto his. I saw it—the flicker of light.
For a moment, I swore he’d take two steps forward and kiss me.
Finally close the space between us.
“You should shower,” he said flatly. “You’re sweating through your shirt.”
Inkitt’s mission is to discover talented writers and turn them into globally successful authors.
Authors can write and upload their manuscripts on Inkit for free and writers retain 100% of their copyrights while writing on Inkitt
Readers can read all books for free, without any ads and give the authors feedback.
Books that perform well based on their reader engagement are published on our Galatea app.
--------------------------------------------------
### Chapter 2: Chapter 2
The shower didn’t help. It scalded me, but it still wasn’t enough.
I stayed under the hot spray until my skin was pink and raw, until the steam curled in my lungs and I could barely stand.
But the heat inside me didn’t fade.
My skin burned. My breath still came too fast. I tried to scrub away the feeling of Jacob’s body against mine, the heat he left behind, the sound of his voice saying my name in that low, rough tone like it meant something.
It pulsed low, coiling tighter. A restless, aching hum under my skin that had nothing to do with the workout—or even with Jacob. Not entirely.
I pulled on a pair of cotton shorts and a loose T-shirt, my damp hair clinging to my back. My hands trembled as I brushed my fingers through it, trying to breathe.
My wolf was too close. My thoughts were too loud.
My body was hot . Too hot. My limbs felt heavy, my skin overly sensitive, my belly tight.
Or maybe—something was starting.
A knock at the door made me flinch.
Before I could answer, the door opened gently, and my mother stepped inside.
“Hi, baby,” she said softly, her voice already knowing.
Beautiful, graceful, calm even when the world cracked open. Her honey-blonde hair was braided over one shoulder, her eyes kind and warm—and far too perceptive. She wore a long cardigan and house pants, the scent of chamomile and cloves clinging to her like comfort.
She didn’t ask questions. She crossed the room and sat on the edge of my bed, then opened her arms.
I didn’t think—I just went to her. I knelt in front of her like I had when I was five and scraped my knee. She pulled me close, her fingers gently working through my damp hair, brushing it with her hands like she used to when the world felt too big.
“You’re burning up,” she murmured, pressing her palm to my cheek, then my neck. “Your skin… Alana, you’re warm. Too warm.”
“I just trained,” I whispered, though I knew that wasn’t it.
Other dramas
No same-genre drama for this story. These are other dramas on the site, not an adaptation of it.