Mag-log inNikita's curse wasn't something that could simply be fixed, like a broken chair or a shattered vase. It was an immutable part of her, woven into the very fibres of her being. Accepting this truth had been a necessary act of survival, one she had embraced long ago, and she knew that the sooner others accepted it, the better. Cursed at a tender age due to her father's unkindness, Nikita was fated to bring death to anything she touched. This curse was a punishment meant to ensure that her father’s bloodline ended with her. The gravity of her curse revealed its brutality when, at just six years old, she accidentally killed her own mother with a simple touch. As years went by, her father's harsh reign eventually met its end, and Nikita inherited his throne, becoming the leader of her pack. However, at her father's funeral, destiny intervened in the form of Rykor, the son of a man who had so cruelly cursed her. Intrigued by the dark and cold Nikita, Rykor saw more than just the curse that shadowed her existence.
view moreNikitas Pov"Speak, then," I replied, crossing my arms defensively.His eyes, clouded with the weight of countless past grievances, met mine. I could see something akin to desperation—a vulnerability mirrored in an elder, a man traditionally emblematic of unshakeable resolve. There was a bottomless depth of weariness in his gaze that resonated with the part of me that understood the burden all too well."I'd much rather do this somewhere else," the Elder finally said, casting an uncomfortable glance around the grand but claustrophobic hall. His voice was low, carrying an urgency that piqued my curiosity despite myself.It was risky to leave the safety of the hall, yet inexplicably, I nodded, gesturing for him to follow through the labyrinthine corridors that led to my father's office. The walls bore silent witness to secrets long since buried—a skewed juxtaposition of the legacy I carried and the decisions I had to forge along the way.Stepping into the office felt like entering a tim
Nikitas PovI lay in bed, pretending to be asleep as the night slowly dragged on. Rykor sat in the chair beside me, his presence a silent sentinel against the darkness that threatened to consume me. There was a safety in his vigil, a protective weave of silent strength that should have been comforting. Yet, for the first time, I wished he would leave. I craved solitude, space to let the tears flow without witness, to crumble quietly without judgment. My soul ached with the desire to submit to my pain and reveal the true extent of my brokenness, but that would never be possible—not with Rykor here, steadfast and unyielding. I couldn’t share this weakness with him, for it would mean admitting defeat against the vile man who had dared to touch me.The memory of last night lingered like a shadow, clinging to my thoughts with cruel tenacity. I had always been aware of the world's darkness, but nothing had prepared me for the soul-deep violation the man forced upon me. As the first light of
The room was filled with a heavy silence, the weight of despair hanging in the air like a dense fog. Nikita now seemed like a shadow of herself, wrapped tightly in her own arms, as if trying to protect her fragile soul from further harm. Her vulnerability was achingly palpable, a stark contrast to the fierce leader she was known to be."Nikita," I whispered gently, not daring to reach out and touch her, though my heart ached to provide comfort. "I’m here."Her shoulders quivered, but she didn’t lift her head. The room fell into a deep hush as if echoing her unspoken pain. I stayed there, a silent sentinel by her side, my own heart breaking at the sight of her suffering.Words would be hollow, echoes in the wind, unable to banish the shadows that had wrapped themselves around her heart. So I just sat there praying that being there would be enough.Slowly, her tear-streaked eyes met mine, each glance like a sharp blade slicing through the emotional barricade that had built up around my
Rykors PovThe air was thick with a potent cocktail of fear and rage, and I had liked it momentarily as if the world knew something pivotal was about to transpire. I forced myself to focus, my senses sharpening like the instinctual keenness of a wolf in the hunt. The path to Nikita's kingdom stretched before me, each step purposeful and laden with an urgency that threatened to consume me.I couldn't let another day pass. The decision I had mulled over grew more resolute with every heartbeat, becoming a fire that was now wild and consuming in its intensity. The moon hung low, a sentinel watching over my advance. Its light illuminated the entrance to Nikita's grand palace.As I entered, I met Iian, emerging from the hall. Fatigue etched itself into the lines of his face, yet his smile remained steadfast and warm. "Alpha Rykor, good to see you," he greeted, strength lacing his voice. His eyes, though tired, still carried the patience and empathy of a trusted Beta he had shown himself to
Nikitas pov I turned on my heel, and there he was—Yuri. His face had barely changed since the last time I saw him, the same predatory glint in his eyes, the same smirk poised to taunt. I felt my heart thud heavily against my chest, an instinctive response, a reminder of the hatred lying dormant bu
Nikita’s POVI stood in my father’s old office, my gaze fixed on Iian as he slowly read the letter from the Elders. The seconds felt like minutes, each tick of the clock dragging on endlessly as I waited for his verdict. Every now and then, his brow furrowed, and his lips twitched as though he was
Nikita's POVRykor’s words hit me like a slap, each one piercing through the walls I had carefully constructed around myself. I had always known my pack feared me. It was something I accepted as part of the role I was forced into. But for him to say I needed to guide them, help them become stronger
Nikita's POVThere was a long, deafening silence between us. I could feel the weight of his gaze, and it pressed into me harder than any word could.After a pause, I finally spoke. My voice was quieter than I intended, tinged with uncertainty. "I need your help... with teaching me about my wolf."R
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