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Chapter 10: The Hollowborn Heir
Last Updated:
2025-04-13 02:40:45
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LyraThey came at dusk.Council-trained wolves. Another extraction team. Three of them.She threw up a shield of Hollowborn magic around the old temple ruins, sigils flaring in the earth as Ronan stood, blades drawn. The air between them thrummed—full of unspoken things. Regret. Fury. Need.“Lyra,” he said, voice taut, “if they’re Council-fed, they won’t stop.”“I don’t care.”“I do.”She turned to him and by gods, that face. Those eyes. She could taste the moment in her mouth..He already knew what she hadn’t yet said.That she wasn’t going to run.And he wasn’t going to stay.“I’m not leaving you.” Her voice cracked.“You have to,” he said. “They’re not after me.”They were. But she was the prize. The weapon. The heir to something ancient and corrupted.“Don’t,” she begged.But he stepped forward, kissed her like a war cry, mouth brutal and bruising, like it might be the last time.“Live, Lyra,” he said. “Even if I don’t.And then he threw himself at the wolves.The moment he was d
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LyraThe fire crackled low in the hearth, licking at half-burned logs like it was afraid to burn too brightly. The rest of the cabin was dark, quiet except for the occasional groan of old wood and the steady rhythm of Ronan’s breath.She watched him from across the room, kneeling beside the cot where he lay shirtless, bandaged, and too still.Each second seemed to stretch into an ache.The worst of his wounds were sealed, the silver burned from his bloodstream, but the bruises remained. The kind that wouldn’t fade without time.Her fingers trembled as she dipped the cloth into warm water, wrung it out, and pressed it gently to his ribs.“You shouldn’t be alive,” she whispered, voice low.He didn’t open his eyes, but his lips twitched. “You’re the one who set the world on fire. I just hung on.”She didn’t laugh. Couldn’t. But she wanted to.The vision of him in that Council cell, arms shackled above him, his skin torn open, barely breathing, that would haunt her forever.“I tore throug
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LyraShe knew something was wrong the second she opened her eyes.No birdsong. No wind. Just a silence that pressed against her skin like cold steel.She was out of bed in seconds.Ronan still slept, sprawled half-naked beneath the tattered quilt, one arm flung toward where she’d been. The sight of him, worn, peaceful, hers, was almost enough to pull her back under the covers.But her instincts screamed louder.She moved toward the window with predator like steps. Pushed the curtain aside just enough to see the woods.Nothing.Then;Thunk.The arrow hit the roof. No hiss of warning. No magic hum.But Lyra knew Reaver steel when she tasted it in the air. Cold, anti-magic, laced with nulling ash. Not meant to kill.Meant to warn.Her body snapped into motion. “Ronan.”No answer.She grabbed the edge of the cot and shoved it aside, exposing the trapdoor beneath. “Ronan, get up. We’ve got company.”His groan was groggy, annoyed. “Didn’t we just survive near-death and emotionally traumatiz
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LyraShe didn’t speak to him for hours. Not only because she was angry.Because if she opened her mouth, she wasn’t sure what would come out. Maybe rage, sorrow, desperation. Maybe all of it.After hitting the ravine, they moved through the old tunnels in silence, the flicker of rune-lamps throwing jagged shadows across Ronan’s face. He hadn’t looked at her since the bluff, since “Then we sever it.”As if he could sever something carved into the marrow of her bones.She could still feel him under her skin, tight and agitated. The bond didn’t lie. It pulsed with his guilt, his fear, and something more dangerous than either.His love.It would have been easier if he didn’t love her.She would’ve let him go if that bond didn’t burn just like hers.They stopped at the second safehouse before dawn. An old den carved into the side of a moss-covered cliff, hidden behind a waterfall. She slipped inside first, soaked to the skin, heart racing with more than cold.He followed, silent, slow.She
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LyraShe should have stayed in bed.Out the window, the moonlight bled across the forest floor, silver with a mist, like a warning. The remnants of the creature Ronan had killed still stained the dirt now on the bottom of her boots. Its black blood reeking of rot and magic twisted out of form.She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ignore the pulse under her skin—the echo of the bond. It had quieted some, but not gone. Never gone.The connection had sunk deep, a pressure behind her ribs, like a hand gripping her from the inside.She didn’t ask for it.Didn’t want it.And yet… she felt him before she saw him. Again.Of course he followed her. Out of all the asshole things to do.Ronan Thorne stood at the edge of the clearing, shirtless, arms crossed over his chest like he was carved from shadow and arrogance.She rolled her eyes in disgust. “What do I have to do to get rid of this guy.” she mumbled to herself as she found herself stomping towards him.“You’re still here,” she sa
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LyraShe didn’t speak to him for hours. Not only because she was angry.Because if she opened her mouth, she wasn’t sure what would come out. Maybe rage, sorrow, desperation. Maybe all of it.After hitting the ravine, they moved through the old tunnels in silence, the flicker of rune-lamps throwing jagged shadows across Ronan’s face. He hadn’t looked at her since the bluff, since “Then we sever it.”As if he could sever something carved into the marrow of her bones.She could still feel him under her skin, tight and agitated. The bond didn’t lie. It pulsed with his guilt, his fear, and something more dangerous than either.His love.It would have been easier if he didn’t love her.She would’ve let him go if that bond didn’t burn just like hers.They stopped at the second safehouse before dawn. An old den carved into the side of a moss-covered cliff, hidden behind a waterfall. She slipped inside first, soaked to the skin, heart racing with more than cold.He followed, silent, slow.She
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Kiss Of The Cursed Alpha Chapter 13: What the Bond Remembers
LyraThe fire crackled low in the hearth, licking at half-burned logs like it was afraid to burn too brightly. The rest of the cabin was dark, quiet except for the occasional groan of old wood and the steady rhythm of Ronan’s breath.She watched him from across the room, kneeling beside the cot where he lay shirtless, bandaged, and too still.Each second seemed to stretch into an ache.The worst of his wounds were sealed, the silver burned from his bloodstream, but the bruises remained. The kind that wouldn’t fade without time.Her fingers trembled as she dipped the cloth into warm water, wrung it out, and pressed it gently to his ribs.“You shouldn’t be alive,” she whispered, voice low.He didn’t open his eyes, but his lips twitched. “You’re the one who set the world on fire. I just hung on.”She didn’t laugh. Couldn’t. But she wanted to.The vision of him in that Council cell, arms shackled above him, his skin torn open, barely breathing, that would haunt her forever.“I tore throug
Kiss Of The Cursed Alpha Chapter 12: Beneath the Moon
LyraThe sky was raging red by the time she found the end of where the scent led her. .A deep violet twilight stretched over the forest as Lyra stood at the border of one of the Tribunal Moon Council’s strongholds. The compound loomed in the clearing ahead, ringed by silver-lined fences, rune barriers, and patrol wolves.She didn’t feel fear.She felt purpose.She felt rage.And beneath that, burning in her blood, she felt him.The bond didn’t lie. It had thinned to a thread, light and trembling. Ronan was alive, but hurt. Near the edge. She felt the weakness in him like an ache in her soul.They’d taken him.Now they were going to learn what a Hollowborn Heir could do.Lyra stepped forward.The first ward rippled in warning.Silver lines crackled across the perimeter, reacting to her blood, Hollowborn magic recognized and rejected. The spell flared, then hissed out as her power devoured it whole.She lifted her hands.The magic obeyed.Veins glowed violet as the air around her grew
Kiss Of The Cursed Alpha Chapter 11: Split By Fir
LyraThey came at dusk.Council-trained wolves. Another extraction team. Three of them.She threw up a shield of Hollowborn magic around the old temple ruins, sigils flaring in the earth as Ronan stood, blades drawn. The air between them thrummed—full of unspoken things. Regret. Fury. Need.“Lyra,” he said, voice taut, “if they’re Council-fed, they won’t stop.”“I don’t care.”“I do.”She turned to him and by gods, that face. Those eyes. She could taste the moment in her mouth..He already knew what she hadn’t yet said.That she wasn’t going to run.And he wasn’t going to stay.“I’m not leaving you.” Her voice cracked.“You have to,” he said. “They’re not after me.”They were. But she was the prize. The weapon. The heir to something ancient and corrupted.“Don’t,” she begged.But he stepped forward, kissed her like a war cry, mouth brutal and bruising, like it might be the last time.“Live, Lyra,” he said. “Even if I don’t.And then he threw himself at the wolves.The moment he was d
Kiss Of The Cursed Alpha Chapter 10: The Hollowborn Heir
LyraShe didn’t sleep after Kale disappeared.Couldn’t.His voice echoed in her skull like the aftermath of a storm: You’ll become what they fear.The Hollow Den’s rot still clung to her clothes. She stood beneath the wash of moonlight outside the safehouse, breathing sharp night air like it could cleanse her soul.But nothing burned away the cold inside.Her magic churned, restless and too close to the surface. She hadn’t been able to cage it since that vision. Since Kale. Since that future she’d seen; Ronan on his knees, blood pouring from his chest, her hand raised.“I’d never hurt him,” she whispered to the dark. “I wouldn’t.”But even as she said it, her fingers curled, and the bond trembled like it wasn’t sure anymore.The door creaked behind her. She didn’t have to look to know it was him.“I felt you leave,” Ronan said, voice low. Careful.“You didn’t stop me.”“No,” he admitted. “Because I trust you.”She turned, meeting his eyes. “Then why does it feel like I’m losing myself?
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LyraThe trees whispered as they passed, low murmurs of warning, of memory.Lyra’s boots sank into damp moss, her senses sharp and stretched thin. The bond between her and Ronan vibrated with unease, but neither of them spoke. Not since they crossed the perimeter.The foot trail had been faint—barely there, masked with the scent of herb smoke and decay. But Lyra knew it now. It clung like rot to her memories.“Still no shift in the trail?” Ronan murmured behind her.“No.” She paused, touched the bark of a dead tree. “But I know where it’s leading.”He stepped beside her. “Where?”Her hand clenched. “The Hollow Den.”Ronan went still.“That place is sealed,” he said. “Your people closed it decades ago.”“No. The Council sealed it.” Her eyes flicked to him. “But Hollowborn magic never truly obeys.”The forest opened into a clearing ahead, ringed with stones that pulsed faintly under moonlight. In the center, a gnarled staircase led down into shadow. No door. No barrier. Just darkness bre
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LyraThe world felt too still.Sunlight slanted through the window, painting Ronan’s bare back in sunshine. He slept on his stomach, arm stretched toward her as if even in dreams, he needed to know she hadn’t disappeared.She watched him quietly, one hand curled against her chest, the bond humming low and warm beneath her skin.He had been… gentle. Reverent. When she’d cried, he hadn’t asked why. He’d just held her like she wouldn’t break, like she was allowed to fall apart and still be whole.And that terrified her.Because this, him, was something she could lose.Lyra slipped from the bed, dressing silently. Her power stirred with her nerves, making the air pulse. The silence wasn’t peace anymore.It was guilt.And if she didn’t tell him now, about the blood on her hands, the real reason the Council feared her, it would rot whatever they’d built.She was buttoning her shirt when his voice, low and rough, cut through the stillness.“You always run after you let someone in?”She turned
Kiss Of The Cursed Alpha Chapter 7: Something Like Surrender
LyraThe fire was low, throwing flamed light across the stone walls in the chamber by the time she walked back to the chamber. It was too quiet. She could hear her heartbeat. Could feel the way the air thickened between them like fog before a storm.Ronan stood at the hearth, shirtless, lean muscle haloed in shadow, and still as stone. And gods, she hated him for how calm he looked.Because she was coming apart. She shuddered as she got underneath the blankets.The bond between them thrummed with a new kind of hunger. Not just physical but emotional. Magic. A pull beneath her skin that begged her to close the distance. To touch. To take.She didn’t trust herself anymore. Not around him.“I thought you were going to bed,” she said.His eyes met hers, dark and unreadable. “I thought about it.”“But you’re not?”“No,” he said, voice low with growl. “I’m not.”Her breath caught. She rose from the bed slowly, wrapping the blanket around her, bare feet pressing to cold stone.“I don’t want t
