All Chapters of The cursed mate's return : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Finnick’s POV The forest was too quiet. Not the peaceful kind. Not the soft toss that urged you to rest your back in the grass and ignore the world. This was the kind of silence that made your skin crawl. The kind that made you think something was staring, hiding, waiting.I stepped carefully over fallen branches and wet moss, keeping my senses open. It was early dusk. The air still smelled like cold metals and pine needles. My wolf needed to be free, to racd, but I held him back. Something was off.Freya had left the den before sunrise. No note, no word. Just gone. That wasn't like her. Not anymore. Not after everything we had been through.Veyrix was dead. I had held her when she screamed his name, when she shattered him from the inside out. I had whispered that she was safe, that it was over.But it wasn’t.She woke up shaking, her eyes gleaming gold in the dark. Sometimes she didn’t recognize anything, not even me. Sometimes… I didn’t recognize her.I found her near the corner of

Finnick’s POVI didn’t sleep for two nights. Freya lay in the bed beside me, but she wasn’t really there. Her body breathed, but her mind was… somewhere else. I kept her hand in mine and whispered her name like a prayer.Sometimes her fingers clenched. Sometimes her lips parted like she was trying to say something, but no sound came out.I was frightened. Not just scared of losing her but scared of what was happening inside her.Scared of what was happening inside me.The dreams hadn’t flickered or paused. Every time I shut my eyes, I saw flames. Blood. A war I didn’t remember starting. And always, at the end, that same girl with silver eyes crying out my name. And my own hands holding the sword.Killing her, Freya.But it wasn’t this Freya. It was someone older. Sadder. Still her, but not her. A past version, maybe. Or a soul that had come back into her.I didn’t know what to believe anymore. On the third night, Taron came into the den.“She’s not going to wake up on her own,” he sa

Finnick’s POVLiora didn’t fight us that night.She could have because I could feel the power dripping off her like mist ancient and wild, not like any wolf I’d ever met. But she didn’t raise a claw.She just glared at the cub as he hid behind Freya’s legs, staring at her with wide, glowing eyes.“You've no idea of what you’re raising,” she said. Her voice soft and steady. “You think he’s just a tool of peace, he was forged in war.”“He’s a child,” I said.“No,” she whispered. “He’s a choice.”Before I could step between them, Liora faded into the trees, like mist swallowed by wind.Freya’s face was pale, her mouth partly open.“She was supposed to be dead,” she muttered.But I took her hand. “Then we find out why she’s not.”The next morning, Freya went to the elders.She told them what happened, about Liora’s appearance, about what she said. About the child of “blood and dusk.”Sura’s expression darkened.“She has no right to return,” the oracle said. “She broke her own oath long ag

Freya's povThe wind was colder than usual. It carried something unfamiliar ,strange with it, like a whisper I couldn’t hear properly. My fingers quivered as I pulled my heavy cloak tighter around me, even though I wasn’t sure if it was the cold or the fear making me quiver.The crescent shaped sign on my chest burned again. It'd started last moonrise, but tonight, it felt worse, hotter, deeper. Like something inside me was rising up.I stood at the corners of the clearing, watching the sky slowly darken. The stars were beginning to reveal, faint and far away. The moon hadn’t showed yet, but I could feel it coming. My whole body ached in a way I couldn’t explain.Finnick stood a few steps behind me. I hadn’t looked at him, not really, since the ritual. The truth we found out that night, that he had chosen me, even against fate, it should’ve made me feel closer to him. But instead, everything felt more fragile. Like one wrong step would break everything between us.And then there was t

Finnick povFreya was too quiet. We sat near a low fire deep in the Shadowroot Wilds, where even the air refused to breathe. The cub__no, the boy slept in a shallow circle of ashes beside us, the faint silver pulse of his skin dimming with every hour. I watched him but my focus kept slipping back to her.Freya hadn’t spoken since the vision ended.Not when the world showed us burned cities. Not when the child we raised stood at the center of a war. Not even when he called her Mother and declared he’d chosen war.It wasn’t silence born of fear. I knew her better than that.It was silence born of grief.“I saw it too,” I said finally, voice low.She didn’t turn, but I saw her eyes twitch. Her fingers were curled tight around the edge of her cloak, knuckles pale. “Saw what?”“You, standing in fire,” I said. “And me… standing behind you, too late to stop it.”Freya shook her head. “I don’t want that future.”“Then we won’t let it happen.”Her voice broke. “We don’t get to choose, Finnick