All Chapters of CHOSEN BY THE CURSED ALPHA KING : Chapter 171 - Chapter 180

DAMIEN’S POV I found her in the bedroom. She was sitting on the bed, knees pulled to her chest, head bowed, shoulders trembling as quiet sobs slipped out of her like she was trying not to let the world hear her break. My chest clenched so tight it felt like my ribs were crushing my heart. Fuck. I stood in the doorway for a second, frozen, watching the woman I love fall apart because of me. Because I hadn’t listened. Because I’d spoken from fear instead of understanding. I moved toward her slowly, like I was approaching something fragile that might shatter if I breathed wrong. “Rose,” I whispered. She didn’t look up. Her sobs didn’t stop. I sat beside her on the bed, the mattress dipping under my weight. I could feel the heat of her body, the pain radiating off her in waves. She immediately turned away from me. That hurt worse than the shouting earlier. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest. “Rose…” I said again, softer this time. She cried silently, her shoulders sh

LUCIEN’S POV The pull of the bond dragged me through the palace like a rope tied around my ribs, yanking harder with every step. My heart pounded in my ears, a mix of fear and fury that made my vision tunnel. Adele was close…I could feel it in my bones, her scent wrapping around me like smoke, sweet and intoxicating, laced with that damn heat that drove every instinct wild. I burst out into the open air, the training grounds sprawled out below me like a battlefield. Warriors sparred under the afternoon sun, shirts discarded, muscles gleaming with sweat. Grunts filled the air. But none of that registered. Not until I saw her. Adele. She was perched on a stone bench at the edge of the grounds, legs crossed, leaning forward like she was enjoying the best show of her life. Her eyes were locked on the men, scanning them with a hunger that hit me like a punch to the gut. One warrior—a tall, broad-shouldered brute with a smirk—caught her gaze. She smiled at him, slow and teasing, then

LUCIEN’S POV Her thighs trembled under my palms, slick with sweat and want. Those gray eyes glared down at me, full of fire and fury, lips parted as she dragged in ragged breaths. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen—cuffed to my bed, dressed in shreds, chest heaving, pussy glistening and begging for my mouth. “Don’t you dare, you fucking asshole,” she spat, voice shaking with rage. She tried to snap her legs shut, muscles straining, but I was already there. I wedged my shoulders between her thighs and held them open with bruising force. My lips brushed the soft skin of her inner thigh first—just a tease—then I dropped lower and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss right against her slick folds. She shivered hard, a full-body jolt that made the cuffs rattle against the headboard. She was trying so hard to pull away from me despite how her body was responding to my touch. “That doesn’t even feel good,” she lied, the words sharp and breathless. I looked up the length of

ADELE’S POV I watched him climb off the bed, his muscles rippling under that stupid shirt like he was putting on a show just to torture me more. My body was still humming from what he'd done—every nerve ending lit up, my skin too sensitive, my core aching in a way that made me want to scream. But no way in hell was I giving him the satisfaction of seeing how much he affected me. Not after everything. "You're not fucking going to leave me like this?!" I spat, yanking at the cuffs again. The metal dug into my wrists, sharp and cold, but the real pain was the frustration boiling inside me. Tied up, naked, exposed—vulnerable in a way I hated. And he was just... walking away? Lucien paused at the edge of the bed, turning back with that infuriating smirk. He shrugged, all casual, like we were discussing the weather. "It's your call, Adele. Tell me you're mine. It's not that hard." The words hung in the air, heavy and demanding. I glared at him, my chest heaving. Mine? After all the time

LUCIEN’S POV I don’t remember falling asleep. One moment I was staring into the dark, Adele’s steady breathing the only anchor keeping me from drifting too far into my own head; the next, the world tilted and I was somewhere else entirely. Cold. So cold it sank straight through skin and muscle and into bone. The kind of cold that made every breath ache in my lungs. I was standing in the cellar, but then I saw myself…the boy I used to be. Small. Barely eight. Curled tight in the far corner where the stone wall met the dirt floor, knees drawn to my chest, arms wrapped around them like that could stop the shaking. The air smelled of damp earth and rot. Rats skittered in the shadows, bold from hunger. One brushed my bare foot, whiskers tickling, teeth testing. I kicked out weakly; it squeaked and scattered, but others took its place, drawn by the scent of fear and the promise of something weaker than them. I watched myself—really watched—like I was a ghost hovering above the scene