2. His Curse

His sapphire-blue eyes remained fixed ahead as Menelyck descended the stone stairs, his expression calm.

The long fur coat over his shoulders nearly brushed the floor, while his fiery-red hair fell neatly to his shoulders.

Guards stood at every corner of the dungeon walls, and whenever he passed, they bowed.

He barely acknowledged them as he continued toward the end of the dungeon, where the silence was deeper than anywhere else.

He stopped in front of the last cell and glanced at one of the guards. The guard immediately stepped forward, pulled out a key, and unlocked the gate.

Menelyck stepped in after making sure none of the guards remained near the cell.

Inside, a middle-aged man sat against the wall, his wrists and ankles bound by chains that allowed him a little freedom to move.

Menelyck studied him for a moment before he asked “How can a curse be lifted?”

The man's eyes slowly opened, and after looking at Menelyck for a moment, a crooked smile appeared on his face.

The man laughed. The laughter grew louder, the sound echoing through the cell until tears formed in the corners of his eyes.

“I never thought I'd live long enough to see this. Since when did you start believing in curses?”

Menelyck's expression hardened.

His uncle wiped the tears from his face before continuing with amusement. “Our great Menelyck. The man who never needs anyone's help. He came to this stinky place to find a dying man for help.”

His uncle laughed again.

After a cough, he managed to control himself and studied Menelyck more carefully.

“What kind of curse is troubling you, nephew? Judging by the fact that you came here yourself, I doubt it's a small one.”

Menelyck crouched. He tried to keep his expression controlled, but the frustration caused his brows to furrow.

But his voice came out calmly “I might have killed my mate.”

The laughter disappeared immediately. His uncle stared at him, frozen as if whatever happened had affected him too.

His uncle suddenly lunged forward as far as his chains allowed. The shackles stopped him barely a step away from Menelyck.

“How could my sister have given birth to someone like you?”

Menelyck frowned. He considered explaining himself, then dismissed the thought. His uncle had already made up his mind. Nothing would change it.

“Tell me how to break the curse,” Menelyck coldly asked again.

His uncle leaned back against the wall. “At least be honest with me. Why did you do it? What did you feel when it happened? And does this have something to do with the Alpha's position?”

Menelyck frown deepened. “What if it does?”

“Menelyck.” His uncle growled. “I have already told you. You don't deserve to be an Alpha.”

Menelyck's expression darkened. For a moment, he considered whether he should do something about his uncle's tongue.

“You can't even feel guilty for what happened to your mate, yet you think you can lead an entire pack?”

He had everything his father expected from an heir: strength, loyalty, discipline, and unquestioning obedience.

He had spent years proving that he was the best choice, and he had no intention of allowing anything to stand in his way.

There was only one thing now, a Luna.

An unmated Alpha could not rule.

He didn't have one, and the curse made it impossible for him to have one in the future. He could not even desire any woman. Whatever the punishment was, it had made him experience the most humiliation he had ever felt.

His fists tightened.

His uncle studied Menelyck's troubled face and sighed. “I can't help you break the curse. But I may be able to find out whether you have another chance.”

Menelyck immediately looked at him.

“But how long will you have to wait? That depends on how deeply you repent. The fact that you don’t even know who she was... having a second chance would be more than you deserve,” his uncle said with disdain.

Menelyck thought for a moment. Second chance? How long would it be? Ten years?.

His uncle extended one arm through the restraints. “Give me your hand.”

Still, another chance was better than none.

Menelyck extended his hand.

His uncle placed his palm over it and closed his eyes.

His uncle's breathing became heavier, and his fingers tightened around Menelyck's hand as sweat began to form across his forehead.

Menelyck remained still, watching him closely.

His uncle's expression twisted, then his eyes snapped open. “Eclipse Pack...”

Menelyck frowned. That's all?

His uncle added seriously. “She will find you. When that time comes... Be careful what you choose.”

Menelyck furrowed his brow and wanted to ask more questions, but his uncle collapsed unconscious onto the floor.

Of course. Peering into the future always drained his uncle’s strength.

He still didn't understand the warning, and he certainly didn't know who the woman was, but one thing had become clear.

Whatever he needed to free himself was connected to the Eclipse Pack.

He turned toward the exit and stopped when he reached the guard outside the cell. “Take good care of him.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Menelyck walked away.

---

Not long after, he entered one of his private rooms.

He descended another set of stairs before reaching the basement where he kept the things he had collected during his missions.

Shelves, boxes, and racks filled the room, holding weapons, artifacts, and strange objects he had gathered over the years. He wasn't entirely sure why he kept most of them, but each one reminded him of a mission worth remembering.

Whenever he needed to think without interruption, he came here.

He needed a seer?

How did he come to this?

A curse he couldn't understand was controlling his life.

Anger burned through him, and he slammed his fist against the table.

The force split the wood apart, sending everything that had been on it crashing onto the floor.

Menelyck stared at the mess, his irritation only growing as he looked at the destruction.

Then he noticed one of the boxes, had fallen open when the table collapsed, revealing something inside.

A staff.

He picked it up.

The last time he had held it, its glow had faded, as though whatever power had been connected to the staff had died with its owner.

But now, a faint purple glow pulsed from it.

Had it always been like this?

No. He would have noticed.

He lowered the staff.

Whatever this meant, he would deal with it later.

For now, his priority was finding a way to free himself before his father discovered what was happening. Or else everything he had spent years fighting for could disappear.