บททั้งหมดของ Fated to the Cursed Alpha King: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

Lyria's POVIvy’s brows furrowed the moment she saw my downcast face. Her voice stumbled softly into the silence between us. “Did I… say something wrong?”I blinked, clearing the sudden haze in my eyes. “No,” I murmured. “You didn’t.”She exhaled sharply, pressing a hand to her chest like she had been holding her breath the whole time. “Oh thank the Moon. I thought I messed up—”“It’s just…” I cut in gently, my voice heavier than I expected. “You triggered a memory.”Her smile faltered, her eyes suddenly soft with concern. “A sad one?” she asked cautiously, then quickly added, “You don’t have to share, not if it still hurts.”I hesitated, but then gave a small shake of my head. “It’s fine. I think… maybe I should.”Ivy sat quietly, her fingers resting lightly on the tray she had brought in, eyes locked on me as I drew in a breath that trembled.“There was an event one night,” I began, my voice low and distant as though pulling the words from a fog. “I was young—too young to even remem

Kael's POVI stayed back in my office surrounded by the mess of parchment, ink, and stacks of reports that demanded my attention. The flickering lanterns cast long, restless shadows on the walls, and though the room was dead quiet, my thoughts were anything but quiet. The silence wasn’t comforting tonight—it gnawed at me, amplified the growing unrest in my chest.Each alpha from the surrounding packs had a scheduled audience with Hood every six moons on my command. It was a tradition, one designed for efficiency. Hood would gather their concerns, discuss matters of security, resources, territory boundaries, and anything else worth raising. In theory, I was supposed to be deeply involved in all of it. After all, I wasn’t just any alpha—I was king. The King of Werewolves.But kings didn’t always have the luxury of being omnipresent. And for someone like me, who had enough on his plate with Iceclaw alone, delegation was survival. Hood understood the burden better than anyone. Loyal. Eff

Kael's POVThe moment Hood said those words—“I did it, Kael”—the entire room stilled. Even the wind outside seemed to hush, as though nature itself paused to absorb his confession.I turned my eyes slowly to Garrick, whose face had twisted into something like righteous indignation. He didn't need to say a word. That look—piercing, demanding—spoke volumes. He wanted an apology.As if I could really say sorry. He should’ve known better. I was many things—Alpha, King, warrior—but a man who handed out apologies wasn’t one of them. Not even when I was wrong. Especially not when my pride hadn't decided it was wrong.But even if I’d been inclined to mutter an apology—and I wasn’t—I had no time for that now. My gaze remained fixed on Hood, the confession still echoing through my mind.“You’re going to explain that,” I said, voice low and sharp.Hood didn’t flinch. And his calm was infuriating. “I used one stone to kill two birds,” he said simply.My fingers curled slowly into a fist. “Elucid

Lyria's POVThe cold bite of the shackles had etched themselves into my memory—into my skin. I had lived with the weight of those chains for weeks, their iron taste almost mingling with the air I breathed. Yet here I stood, my wrists free, my ankles unburdened. I looked at my hands, slightly trembling, and then down at my feet. No more chains.For a moment, I just stood there, motionless, not even daring to believe it. Like a pup just learning to walk, I cautiously took one step forward. Then another, The clink of metal didn’t follow me this time. No pull. No resistance. Just silence—and the soft pad of my own bare feet on the cold stone floor.I turned to Hood, still in disbelief. Ivy was hugging him again, and to my amazement, this brooding warrior actually smiled. A rare, genuine one.“I’m only doing this for you, Ivy,” he murmured, barely audible. His words made her grin from ear to ear.He glanced at me once and added, “You can walk around the palace for a while. Garrick isn’t a

Kael's POV The wind howled through the ancient trees of Aetherwood, their gnarled limbs swaying like devout worshippers paying homage to a silent god—only this time, I imagined they were paying homage to me. A twisted honor for a cursed king. The rustling leaves murmured secrets I couldn’t decipher, and high above, birds cried out into the soft dusk like children calling for answers no one was willing to give.Everything felt… normal.Too normal.And that was the cruelest part.Because inside me, nothing was normal. My chest felt like it was caving in from a pressure I couldn’t explain. The deeper I breathed, the tighter my ribs felt, like the air itself was turning against me.I found a moss-covered boulder at the base of a silver-barked tree and collapsed onto it, my elbows resting on my knees, hands rubbing over my tired face.So I was going to die.That much had been made clear. If I didn’t find something—some answer, some act, some truth—I would wither like the weakling son of a