The Alpha King's Mate: ZORYA'S CURSE

“Run, my lady. Don’t look back. We’ll hold them back as long as our breath stays in our lungs. If one of us lives tonight, it has to be you. Please—live.”

Muffled sobs bled into the darkness of Clearwater forest, as Ishtar tore through the tangled branches and choking undergrowth.

Every word from her dying pack members clawed at her heart, tightening it until her lungs burned for air.

Her limbs screamed in protest. Muscles stiff. Every step sent fire through her body, as thorns and branches ripped into pale fragile skin, leaving blood in her wake. But guilt burned hotter than the wounds.

Poppy was right, she was her father’s shame. A weak liability unfit to be Luna.

Maybe it was the darkness, the grief or the pain and guilt she felt, but all she wanted was to die. She felt so deserving of her misfortunes and darkness, that she felt a belonging, but even the forest was unwelcoming, and it took its toll without mercy.

Tears blurred her vision, streaking hot and relentlessly down her cheeks as her heart broke again and again with every fading sound behind her. Growls. Dying cries. The wet, sickening thud of bodies hitting the forest floor.

However, despite that, she could not slow down. She could not stop. Not after her last remaining family had given their lives in place of hers. Not after they had believed in her more than she ever had.

Coward.

Something inside of her hissed as she tried to shift again. The urge rose instinctively, wild and desperate, her wolf clawing at the edges of her mind, begging to be let loose.

Please. Just this once. Ishtar pleaded silently.

Her body answered with agony. Her bones seized instead of reshaping. Her lungs locked. A sharp, breath-stealing pain ripped through her spine, dropping her to one knee with a broken gasp.

“No—” she whispered, fury and despair tangling together, as she tried again.

Nothing.

Her wolf remained trapped, suffocating beneath a weak body that refused to obey. A sob tore free, before she could stop it.

Ishtar hated herself at that moment, with a violence that eclipsed everything else. Hated her sickness. Her weakness. Hated that even now, now when survival demanded it most, her stupid body betrayed her.

Gathering her strength, she staggered back to her feet, and ran again, blind with tear-filled rage, her heart pounding so hard, she thought it might tear itself free. Roots snaked across the forest floor, slick with moss and shadow, and she did not see the thick one rising before her until it was too late.

Her foot caught, twisted, before the world pitched violently.

Her fall forced all the air out of her lungs. Her head rang sharply, bright stars bursting through her vision, but it was the pain in her abdomen that stole her breath entirely, a deep frightening ache that made her curl instinctively inward.

Ishtar gasped repeatedly for air as a bloodcurdling scream forced its way up her throat. However, just before it escaped, a twig broke a little distance away from her, sending a wild alert through her system.

Her hand flew to her mouth instantly, as she groaned; her teeth digging into her skin until it bled. Until the taste of her blood grounded her just enough to remain silent. Beads of sweat broke on her forehead, and for a moment, her vision blurred.

When the sounds finally drifted away, she pushed herself up with trembling arms, and as she took a step, warmth trickled down her legs.

Ishtar’s breath hitched, but she did not look. She couldn’t afford to.

Instead, she clenched her jaw until it hurt, teeth digging deeper into skin, and forced her legs to move again; each step a fresh wave of pain she carried without sound. She ran hunched forward now, one arm wrapped protectively around her abdomen, the other still clenched between her teeth.

Please—live… she reminded herself desperately. For them. For the lives they traded for yours. However, through it all, one face haunted her.

Pete.

Anger surged, hot, but beneath it was something far worse. A desperate, aching longing that made her chest constrict until she thought it might cave in on itself.

Where are you?

Ishtar hated herself for that thought, even as it surfaced. Hated that part of her even more that still reached out for him in fear.

He should have fought for us. He should have chosen us. Ishtar muffled a sob, and for a fleeting moment, she imagined him bursting through the trees, furious and wild, calling her name like he used to, before lies, before ambition, before Poppy.

The illusion shattered as quickly as it formed because it was not Pete that burst through the trees; it was a pack fang who used to be family.

“I found her, she’s over here.” A shout started and ended with a howl.

Ishtar turned and ran, forcing her burning legs to move faster, even as the forest began to thin, the ground sloping down beneath her feet. Soon, the air changed. Open and exposed.

Cliff.

Her heart thundered wildly, as she broke through the last line of trees and skidded to a halt. Beneath the edge was an endless darkness.

Footsteps emerged behind her, and she turned slowly, breath tearing from her sore chest, tears streaking her dirt-smeared face. And there they were.

Pete, and beside him was Poppy.

“Pete, you are here.” Ishtar’s voice broke. She moved to approach but froze when Pete’s expression twisted with something that churned her stomach—disgust.

Poppy’s mocking cackle echoed as her eyes narrowed to a triumphant slit. Pete is mine now, sweetie. My mate, my Alpha, and I, his Luna. But here you are… pitiful, broken, a perfect ending to my plan. You didn’t stand a chance, did you? ”

Pete shifted on his feet, hesitating, as though he could intervene, but fear rooted him in place.

“Ishtar… I—”

“You don’t get to speak, you coward. Not now, not ever.” Ishtar shrieked. Her body shook with anger, pain, and despair.

“You… Did this?” Her gaze seared Poppy. “And you knew?” She turned to Pete, searching for an answer as Pete opened his mouth again, but closed it, looking away instead.

“Pete, I am carrying your child. How could you do this to me? To us?” Ishtar’s statement seemed to bring tension as the pack fangs under Poppy’s command shared shocked glances. Their hostile expressions loosen instantly.

“Oh! Spare me that, please.” Poppy stepped forward. “What kind of curse are you hoping to produce with that weak body of yours? You thought you were untouchable. Protected. Special, because your father was there? Well, where is he now? Fertilizing the earth, while you’re here, alone and weak, trembling on the edge of your own undoing.” She laughed gently, savoring every moment of her cruelty.

“How dare you disrespect my father—”

“How dare you disrespect your Luna.” Poppy shouted back, tearing Ishtar a slap that sent her to the ground.

With Ishtar’s inability to retaliate, Poppy’s smirk deepened. “Enough. You are already a sight for sore eyes on my wedding night,” she said sharply. Her claws flexed with cruel precision. “Time to finish what we started.”

Before Ishtar could react, the air erupted into violence. Poppy lunged, striking her with a slash of claws, while Pete stood frozen, unable to move. Pain tore through Ishtar as she was shoved, stumbling backward, tripping over roots and rocks. The cliff loomed ahead, jagged and merciless.

So, this was it. Ishtar thought. This was the end. She took a brief silent look at Pete, just as Poppy’s claws shoved her again. This time, the world tilted violently beneath her.

She flailed, wind screaming past her ears. Ishtar shut her eyes, droplets of tears escaping with the wind. Time slowed, each second stretching into eternity. Her body twisted, scraped, and tore against the unforgiving rocks. Each hit sent her closer. By then, her wolf and her baby had gone silent.

However, in the silence between her heartbeats, she felt it, the culmination of betrayal, sorrow, and rage. She thought of her people, lying lifeless in the forest, their sacrifice in vain. She thought of Pete, standing there, guilt-ridden and impotent, the man who had once been her world.

I will not die tonight. I will make them pay. Every single one of them. I swear to you, my child. I swear to you, father.

Ishtar thought of her father, and as her gaze caught the full moon, she clenched her teeth in silence against the agony, against the wind, and the blood, and the terror. Against her body smashing against the earth below, as immediate darkness claimed her.

****

“Lillia”

The soft and calming scent of lavender was the first thing that called Ishtar to consciousness, followed by the gentle yet deep voice that sounded distant at first before they slowly wafted into her senses, pulling her closer to reality.

She blinked, eyes fluttering open.

“Lillia.”

A face hovered above her, and when her eyes adjusted, she caught the deepest darkest eyes she had ever seen.