A Curse So Dark And Lonely Novels & Stories

The whisper returned, faint and derisive — > "We shall see, little moon." And deep within her chest, the dark throb of the curse pulsed once, slow and potent — like a heart reacquainting itself with the rhythm of life.

《Eliza》 I couldn't believe it. He went to her when she broke down after all I did was merely yell at her. This curse was relentless and merciless. Why give me my mate and then take him away? Tears burned in my eyes from it and I walked away. Celeste whimpers from the growing distance between us and Kyle, and the fact that our mate was with another woman. But why would I be surprised? We were looking ago cast away by Wolf Society for something we didn't even cause. “Miss Eliza?” someone calls out.

Beta Marcus asks. "A warning," Gregory says. He unrolls the scroll slowly, the room holds its breath. "Read it," Dante orders. Gregory's voice is grave as he begins. "When the wolfless one finds love in the fangs of darkness, the blood moon shall rise, and the continent shall burn in eternal night. Only death can break the curse." The room explodes. "The wolfless one!" someone shouts. "It's talking about Roselyn!" My stomach drops. Roselyn. The servant girl. The one who failed to shift at eighteen.

The world outside looked like a cottage core dream. Selena turned around and grimaced. The shrine—her cursed assignment—was still gloomier than a tax office, with thunderclouds coiling ominously above it like it had committed several felonies. And the worst part? The storm was exclusive. It hovered only above the shrine, like nature itself had obvious favoritism.

Cordy said gently, "curses can be broken, dear. But they require specific conditions to be met." She opened the skin-bound book, revealing pages covered in symbols that made my wolf instincts recoil. The text was written in what looked like a mixture of Latin and something far older, far darker. "According to this," she continued, "the curse can only be broken by a Blackthorne descendant who freely chooses to heal the afflicted Ashworth." "Freely chooses," I repeated. "Not coerced, not forced, not manipulated into it." "Precisely." I looked around the room, taking in their expectant faces. Margaret's barely concealed desperation. Rupert's careful neutrality. Cordy's knowing smile. And underl

The room spun, her breath choked in her throat. The curse was hungry. It needed more. It needed her. But Diva wasn't weak now. She bawled her fists, pushing the darkness back, forcing it down with every last bit of strength she possessed. She wouldn't let it win. She couldn't. A scream tore from her lips as she struggled. And then— The darkness broke. The black veins dissolved, crumbling into nothing. The curse was gone. Diva fell. Someone caught her before she reached the ground.

She looked away as she spoke as if recalling a certain painful memory. "Then you do not know anything about my curse. My little bride has been listening to false news." I intended to patronize her but failed. "You can just tell me yourself then." It was odd how comfortable she had gotten with me in such a short while. "You don't want to know how dark my curse really is Lila." I chuckled darkly, watching as the expression on her face turned to an inquisitive one. "How dark?" She asked. "So dark,it consumes your soul and sends you to a pit of misery. And by that, I mean you die Lila."

She gasped too as soon as she did. "The Solutions to all my curses," Rendall read aloud. "Flip through it and find ours," Helia said eagerly and Rendall began to do what she had asked me to. He flipped through the pages carefully until he stumbled on a heading. "The Destined Curse of The Werewolves and Werelions," Helia read aloud. "Destined Curse?" Rendall asked and they both looked at each other. They looked back at the book and frowned. "You've got to be kidding me," Helia frowned. The page they were both looking at was torn. The only thing that was left was the heading.

"Vivienne..." "I don't want to drink blood, you know," I said in a desperate voice. "but there is a part of me that wants to. The unquenchable thirst makes me feel less human. Right now, I can hear every beat of your heart; smell the intoxicating scent of your skin. The demons in me want to enslave me, I tried to suppress the urge, but it's still there like a curse!" "You don't have to fight the demons," Cammie said, "You own them. You live with them. They can't control you if you don't let them."

Her captors were celebrating when they had plunged her into irrevocable eternal darkness. Her captors had danced, jollied and bathed themselves in aqua vitae, John Barleycorn and rum as they unabashedly flirted around with young courtesans, not bothering about the starving and suffering little girl in the smelly, stinky, bloodthirsty cell, from whom they had snatched all rays of hopes, happiness and chances of a bright future.