All Chapters of Alpha's Cursed Bride: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

‎The manor felt different now, quieter, like it was holding its breath after the battle. The air still carried the faint tang of blood, but the fires burned low, and the pack moved softly, cleaning up the wreckage, tending to the wounded. I stood in my room, the cloak from Rex draped over my shoulders, his scent—pine and iron—clinging to it like a promise. My hand rested on my stomach, where that faint flutter stirred, a reminder of the life inside me, Cassian’s child, but mine too. I wasn’t the girl who’d arrived here, trembling in a car, sold to settle a debt. I was Lycan, a warrior, and I had fought for this place, for myself.‎‎Rex’s words lingered: *I can’t lose you.* They were heavy, not just duty, but something deeper, something that scared me as much as it warmed me. He’d stood by me, protected me, even after I’d told him about the pregnancy, about Cassian’s betrayal. His pain, his guilt over the other girls—it was real, and it tied us together, blood or not. But I didn’t kno

Talia’s POV‎‎The manor was quiet now, the blood moon gone, its crimson glow replaced by the soft light of dawn creeping through the windows. The air still held a faint bite of iron, a reminder of the battle, but the pack moved with purpose, repairing walls, tending wounds, rebuilding what the rival wolves had tried to tear apart. I stood in the courtyard, the cloak from Rex loose around my shoulders, my hand resting on my stomach where the flutter of life grew stronger, a quiet promise. My silver-grey wolf stirred inside me, calm but awake, tied to this place, to these people, to him. I wasn’t the cursed daughter anymore—I was Lycan, a mother, a warrior, and this was my home.‎‎Rex stood a few paces away, speaking low to a group of pack members, his red eyes sharp but steady, his broad frame a pillar in the morning light. He hadn’t left my side for long since the fight, his presence a constant, like the bond that pulsed between us, stronger now, undeniable. My cousin, my mate—the t

The forest stretched before us, its trees dark and twisted, their branches clawing at the pale morning sky. The air was cold, sharp with the scent of pine and damp earth, and my breath fogged as I stood at the manor’s gates, Rex beside me, his hand a steady warmth in mine. The pack gathered behind us, their faces set, their weapons glinting in the early light. My hand rested on my stomach, the flutter of my child stronger now, a quiet strength that anchored me. I was Lycan, a mother, a warrior, and I was walking into the unknown—not for the prophecy, but for the Ironclaw Pack, for the chance to end a curse I didn’t fully understand.‎‎Rex’s red eyes met mine, fierce but soft, carrying the weight of his promise: *We go together.* The bond between us pulsed, steady and warm, not just blood, not just duty, but something deeper, something I was learning to trust. The Ironclaw scout’s words echoed in my mind: *Your blood can heal our land.* I didn’t know if I believed him, but I couldn’t

The Ironclaw village buzzed with new life as we prepared to leave, the once-barren ground now dusted with green, the air clean and sharp with the scent of fresh earth. The pack moved with purpose, their faces brighter, their eyes no longer dulled by the curse. Children laughed, running between the stone houses, their voices a stark contrast to the silence we’d found when we arrived. My hand rested on my stomach, the flutter of my child steady, a quiet strength that mirrored the hope around me. I was Lycan, a mother, a healer, and I’d broken a curse, but the weight of what I’d done—and what still lay ahead—pressed heavy on my heart.‎‎Rex stood beside me, his red eyes scanning the village, his broad frame a steady presence. The bond between us pulsed, warm and sure, tying us together through blood and love. He hadn’t let go of my hand since the circle, since my blood had woken the land, and I felt his strength, his pride, in every glance. But I saw the worry too, the shadow in his eye

‎The Ironclaw village faded behind us as we ‎ back through the forest, the dawn light now a steady glow, filtering through the trees. The air was crisp, clean, free of the curse’s lingering bitterness, and the pack—Moonshadow and Ironclaw allies together—moved with a quiet strength, their steps lighter, their voices soft with hope. My hand rested on my stomach, the flutter of my child a constant rhythm, grounding me, reminding me of what I’d fought for. I was Lycan, a mother, a healer, and the power in my blood had saved a land, a people. But the weight of it all—the prophecy, the battles, the love I carried for Rex—settled deep, a mix of strength and fear.‎‎Rex walked beside me, his red eyes scanning the forest, his broad frame a steady presence. The bond between us pulsed, warm and sure, a thread that tied us through blood and love. His confession in the village, his arms around me, his vow to never let me go—it was all real, and it warmed me, even as the memory of the dark wolve