Curse Of The Blackened Eye Novels & Stories

Anger fills up the magma chamber But all I see is fear The flower bloomed differently. It faced the sunset instead. With blood she united us Wherever I am she will be All will be forgotten in the next life. With the blood of my beloved she cursed me The sin that bought me love The sin that taste sweet and warm She has cursed the sinner and the sin Even the sinner will curse this sin When her blood blooms lava will erupt There will be thunder and lightning Then they will be united The blood of sinners will be one again

he grumbled as his eyes bore me a warning glare. I wriggle under his body and clawed him, cutting flesh as he struggles to keep me in place. He growled but I snapped back. Then, despite the struggle and head-spinning movements, I see a different spark in his eyes. No, that is not rage. I knew fury when I see one. It is something rawer. More captivating. His eyes blink and the remnants of that unknown emotion quickly vanished in his golden orbs. "You cannot win in this, woman! I will not leave this forsaken land without my female," The gnars

"Forget this woman—even you will not leave this place alive." They tried to overwhelm Carl with sheer presence and numbers, but as soon as the words fell, they saw Carl slowly lift his eyes. What kind of eyes were those? Deep black like an eternal frozen abyss, devoid of any emotion, yet hiding a brutality and indifference capable of crushing everything. There was no glare of rage, no gnashing of teeth, yet a single glance was enough to make the blood in every black-robed figure nearly freeze, a chill spreading instantly from the marrow throughout their bodies.

Her brow furrowed in concentration; her mind fully immersed in the ancient words that danced across the page. "The curse, cast by Selene's hand," Lucy's voice trembled, as if she herself could feel the weight of that fateful moment, "bound The Lycan Lord to an eternal struggle, cast to the underworld awaiting someone to summon him." The words hung in the air, laden with the weight of an unending torment that echoed through the ages. The thought of such suffering, of being eternally ensnared in the clutches of despair, stirred an ache deep within my chest.

Davil grows into a giant and a tear drops. "Losing her child and womb is nothing compared to what I plan to take from her. I will take and take until she is isolation and I will have the last attack. I will break her until there is nothing left to break. An eye for the whole body part, "he grin, and I walk backwards. Davil continues, "She doesn't deserve to be happy. A curse deserves to be treated as one"

Lucien is fighting with everything he has, his body shaking, his eyes burning with defiance as the black rot threads through him. I know this moment was coming. I’ve known since the night the curse was spoken, whispered into our lives like poison slipped into a cup. I step forward, my breath ragged, my fingers shaking but steady enough to draw light from the pit of my soul. “I can’t let it take you,” I whisper. My voice breaks, but my resolve doesn’t. “Not you three. Not when I can carry it instead.” Magic answers me like it’s been waiting all along. I drag the blackness toward me, prying it off their skin, wrenching it from their bones. Their cries quiet into gasps of relief as the darkness

"She is an enemy to our pack as she has been discovered to have Black Blood running through her veins!" The entire crowd gasped in shock. My heart beat accelerated. How did they know? Would I be killed? The black blood has been something of a curse from my ancestors. The people of the black blood were a member of an ancient pack who dealt in the practice of black magic. It was said that they were forsaken and cursed by the moon goddess since the last 5 centuries, suppressing their ability to ever shift into their wolf forms. It was a form of punishment, rendering them to their most vulnerability and exposing them to predators (enemies).

The pack formed a defensive line, Alpha-level warriors at the forefront. I stood on the central platform, able to observe the entire situation. Soon, the first wave of attackers appeared. Marcus's description was accurate – they were indeed 'neither human nor wolf.' Half-human, half-wolf forms, but not like a normal shift, more like they had been forcibly twisted and deformed. The most unsettling thing was their eyes – entirely black, without a trace of white or pupil. "Moon Goddess preserve us," an elder whispered. "They are cursed."

He took a breath, then added, "This is the mark of high-level black magic." Lysander stared at Alpha King like someone studying a war map. He didn’t say much, but when he spoke, his voice carried weight. "This is a curse. A curse with a runic sequence—it consumes slowly, igniting the tissues from within without leaving the usual scars we’re familiar with. A technique like this... requires bitter energy. And—" he swallowed, searching for the right word, "—the thing is, it can only be transferred if the source is close enough."

fuck fate and its stupid eyebrows. The contract was activating. The seal was awakening. And Theo, who had spent centuries hating humans for reasons even he no longer remembered, was being forced to kneel before one. Slowly, Theo felt the final condition. The binding would only be complete through a kiss—an ancient rite, older than language. Refusing it meant death. His spirit would burn, along with the last remnant of Nexus’s power inside him. Theo stared at her, face twisted in loathing.