Lahat ng Kabanata ng Kiss Of The Cursed Alpha: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

You know what you must do. Go now. And DO NOT come back till it is done.LyraThe moon was full. Too bright. Too hungry.Lyra Vale moved like she belonged to the forest, but tonight, the woods didn’t want her there. The trees whispered, and the shadows scattered along the ground like something was watching. Waiting. Like hunger needs satisfaction.She didn’t care.She wasn’t afraid of things that stalked or went bump in the dark.Her cloak puffed out around her legs as she followed the narrow, root-choked path out of Black Hollow. Most people stayed indoors during a full moon. But Lyra wasn’t like most people. She never had been.The air was thick with the scent of pine, moss—and something else.…Smoke. Fur. Heat.She stopped walking.Her fingers ghosted toward her satchel, where a vial of wolfsbane pressed against her palm like a promise. Her heart pounding, but her steps stayed steady.She could feel him before she saw him.A shift in the air. With a weight pressing down on her skin

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

LyraThe Council said they wouldn’t come until midday.They lied.By dawn, riders dressed in ceremonial black were already inside the keep, trailing the scent of smoke, blood, and ancient law. Their power pushed against her skin like cold steel, pressing in at her throat, demanding submission.She didn’t bow.She never would.But even standing straight-backed beside Ronan in the great hall, every instinct in her screamed. Run. Burn. Shift.“Stand down,” he whispered through clenched teeth.She glanced at him, tall, composed, every inch the powerful, dominant Alpha he was born to be. He didn’t touch her, but his presence blanketed hers like armor.Her magic simmered, unsettled.“I don’t like being paraded around,” she said under her breath.“It’s this or interrogation chambers,” he replied. “Pick your poison.”From the dais, a Council envoy stepped forward. A woman, tall, silver-haired, eyes the color of frostbite. Cold and unblinking.“You say the bond is real,” she said. “But we don’t

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

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