WELCOME TO SHADOW PACK.

Author’s Note

Welcome to Bound to the Forbidden Alpha Prince, Book Two of The Cursed Bloodline Series.

This story can be enjoyed on its own, but for the full emotional journey—and to truly understand Warren, the legacy he carries, and the world he was born into—I highly recommend reading Book One: Bound to the Alpha I Swore to Kill first.

Whether you’re returning or joining the series for the first time…

Welcome back to Shadow Pack.

Now, let’s see what kind of monster Adrian left behind.

✦────✦✦────✦ ✦────✦✦────✦

To everyone who believed the beast died with my father—

You were wrong.

I am what remains.

And I have no intention of being saved.

✦────✦✦────✦ ✦────✦✦────✦

🩸WARREN🩸

I have never understood why people call my father a hero.

Heroes are supposed to survive. They are supposed to live long enough to see their children grow, to watch their packs flourish, to grow old in the arms of the women they love.

My father did none of those things.

He died in the dirt with his mate's tears on his face and his brother's blood on his hands. He died because of love. He died before I could even open my eyes, before I could learn what it meant to be his son.

And yet, they call him a hero.

My mother still visits his cabin every month. She thinks I do not know. She leaves before sunrise with that old leather journal pressed against her chest and returns after dark with swollen eyes, pretending she is not crying. She thinks I believe her when she says she is taking walks or visiting the gardens. I stopped asking where she goes when I was eight years old because I already knew.

I have always known. She couldn’t move on. She still belongs to a dead man.

I hate that cabin. I hate the journal. I hate that no matter where I go, he gets there first.

Everyone says I have his eyes. The same cold blue. The same hard stare. The same way of looking at people as though they are already beneath me.

They say I inherited his blood.

They pray I did not inherit his curse.

Sometimes, when the darkness whispers beneath my skin, when hunger claws at my ribs and rage burns through my veins, I wonder if their prayers were answered too late.

"Your mother is waiting for you, Your Highness."

I glanced toward the servant standing in the doorway, his head bowed, his hands clasped in front of him. He is new, young, barely more than a boy. He does not know me well enough to read the warning in my silence.

"Tell the Alpha Queen I’m not coming."

The servant hesitates, his fingers twitching at his sides. "She asked me to tell you… today is your father's memorial."

Of course it is.

Every year the pack gathers to celebrate the man who saved them. Every year they tell the same stories, the same tales of his courage, his sacrifice, his love. Every year they look at me as though they expect another Adrian to rise from the ashes of his memory.

They want me to be him. They want me to be strong, noble, worthy.

They want me to be the Alpha my father was.

They will be disappointed.

"I am not coming."

The servant pales, his face draining of color like I have just told him I am going to burn the pack to the ground. "But—"

"I said… I am not coming."

He bows and leaves, his footsteps quick and hurried, desperate to escape before I change my mind and decide to make an example of him.

Silence settles over the room like a weight pressing down on my shoulders. I walk to the window overlooking Shadow Pack, the familiar sight of the pack grounds sprawling out before me. The houses, the gardens, the training yards, the memorial stone where my father's name is carved into the rock.

Twenty-four years ago, my father gave these people peace. He gave them safety, freedom, and a future. He gave them everything he had and then he died for it.

If only they knew what his blood had created instead.

The pack still prays to my father.

One day, they would pray to be saved from me.