The Cursed Alpha’s Daughter のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

The council chamber reeked of sweat and tension. Alpha Romero sat at the head of the long oak table, fingers drumming impatiently as his advisors debated the latest territorial disputes between them and the warlocks."We're losing ground and our magic is weak..." It was the same old.He wasn’t listening. His wolf, Kaiser, paced restlessly in his mind, its agitation growing by the second. Then the doors burst open. A young warrior stumbled in, breathless. “My Alpha–” Romero was already rising from his seat. This was no ordinary messenger. This warrior served within the castle’s inner rooms. “It’s the Luna,” the warrior choked out. “She’s in labor.” ! ! ! ! ! !The torches lining the stone corridor flickered, their flames restless, mirroring the storm inside Romero’s chest. His boots pounded against the stone floor as he paced just outside the birthing chamber. His fangs ached. His claws curled into his palms. The scent of her blood filled the air. Too much blood. H

Quinn was still in shock over the events that occurred in the room. It was a carnage like he'd never before seen☆☆☆☆The wailing of wolves echoed through the night, grief rippling through the kingdom as the bond between their Alpha and Luna was severed forever. But inside the birthing chamber, there was only silence. Romero stood frozen, his entire world collapsing around him. The firstborn was a girl.Lillith was dead.And the second child—the boy—had not let out a Sovereign’s Howl. This was wrong. His fingers twitched around the newborn boy in his arms. He barely registered the soft, struggling breaths of the infant—his son—because his mind was still reeling from the daughter that came first. He turned toward the still, pale woman on the bed, his chest aching. Lillith had named her before she died. Cinder. The name burned in his mind, filling him with an inexplicable rage. Twins? He could accept.A female Alpha? The Moon Goddess did not choose females. She never had.

ELIOCall it a twin thing, but I swore I could hear my sister screaming my name.A chill raced down my spine.Cinder’s voice—high and desperate cut through the festival’s steady hum like a blade in my mind.In just a few minutes we'd turn under the full moon and roam and run free. I was supposed to lead that run...No one reacted. The wolves around me kept drinking, laughing, lost in the night’s warmth. No heads turned. No bodies stiffened.So I resolved it was just in my imagination.But after a beat I heard her again.I swallowed hard, scanning the tree line just beyond the clearing. The night had shifted, charged with something I couldn’t name. There was a whisper in my bones. A tension in my skin.Beside me, Kael—my second-in-command, my closest friend—caught my eye. His mate leaned into him, murmuring something, but he was looking at me, his brow furrowed.“You good?” he asked, low enough that no one else would hear.I forced a grin, shaking off the unease. “Cinder’s probably jus

TWO DAYS LATER-----I’ve always wondered…There’s this recurring dream I’ve been having for the past few years. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it’s always exactly the same.I’m standing on the rooftop of a towering building in an unfamiliar city. I’m not sure which kingdom it is—but judging by the height alone, I know it’s nowhere in Vargrheim.My muscles are tense, teeth chattering. It feels so real I can practically feel the cold wind threading through my hair.There are no guardrails. I’m right at the edge.My toes are hanging over. And the thing is, I know I should back up. I know I should do everything in my power to launch myself backward, away from sudden death. But it doesn’t happen that way. Every time, like some subconscious, suicidal slip… my foot gives way. And I fall.I’m falling and falling, but not fast. It’s slow and dreamlike.Spinning midair, I catch sight of a shadowed figure cloaked in darkness leaping after me, cape flaring like a shadow come alive. I

I wake up in the ward again.This time, I laughed immediately I opened my eyes this time. I was going to be labelled pretentious.This was one of those cracked, breathless laughs that scraped out of my throat like broken glass. It tasted like pain and pride and something else I couldn’t name.Elio and I once were called the trouble twins. Unafraid of punishment, quick to mischief, and completely immune to fear. Or at least, we used to be.He grew up more reserved. All duty and honor, like he swallowed a sword and made a blood pact with his reflection. But rile him up enough, and he was still the boy who dared me to jump off the roof because he broke his leg after trying it first.When I was younger, I thought my father and my twin were everything. I idolized them. Worshipped them. I was never happier than when we trained outside together—Elio with his graceful, fluid form, me breathless and bruised, trying to keep up. I had no wolf yet. No chance in the world. But combat called to me