Curse Of The Crimson Throne Mga Nobela at Kwento

⸻ The image darkened. The Crimson One stepped away from his brothers. ⸻ Toward a glowing object hidden beneath the earth. ⸻ A crystal. ⸻ Dark red. ⸻ Beautiful. ⸻ Wrong. ⸻ The moment he touched it— Everything changed. ⸻ The vision exploded. ⸻ Darkness spread across the world. ⸻ Cities burned. ⸻ Wars erupted. ⸻ Entire kingdoms fell. ⸻ The Crimson One watched it all with fascination.

I’d been playing the carefree king just as lady Margaret wanted. But today, one heartbeat, one twitch from that northern idiot, and I ripped a heart out in my own throne room like it was nothing. The taste of it still coated my tongue. Hot and addictive. Derek roared inside me, claws raking, demanding more. They called it the Throne’s Curse. Every wolf who sat on the black throne grew ten times more vicious once they tasted blood after a long drought. My father had lost control the night my mother died. He shifted in the middle of the great hall and tore through three hundred guards before the royal guard managed to chain him with silver and drag him to a room.

I picture him outside in the snow, coat collar up, not looking back. My chest hurts. He was supposed to protect me, not trade me like a bag of coins. I feel small, alone, cold without his hand, even if that hand only ever hurt. We stop in front of one box. A small lamp on the wall gives dim yellow light. I look at the door. My breath catches in my throat. A crest is carved deep in the wood. Black wolf. Snow around its paws. Stars above its head. The Morozov crest. Even a child knows it. Even I know it.

With that, the infant's disguise fell away completely, revealing the parasitic thing it truly was—a grotesque creature of writhing suckers and black, pulsing veins. "Finally..." Isolde cradled the monster, a crazed smile on her face. "If I can't have your love, then the entire clan can be food for my child! You all owe me this!" In a fit of rage, I blasted Isolde away and threw the demon-spawn into a sealing ward. But it was no use. The blood curse was already out of control. Without a powerful purification, the Crimson Court would soon be extinct. I stumbled back to my chambers, wanting one last look at Gracie before I died.

Hinugot ni Crimson ang kutsilyo mula sa pisnge nito. “Sweetie, you don't tell a psycho that they are a psycho.” She smiled sweetly. “It makes them mad.” Bulong nito. “Are you mad?” Tanong ko at agad naman siyang tumingin sa akin bago tumawa nang bahagya. “Oh, very.” Her smile faded as she gripped on Lore's neck tightly, choking her. “If you're so desperate to see Hellios, why don't you join him?” Nanggigigil na suhestiyon ni Crimson sa dalaga at pinagsasaksak ito sa leeg.

Those years of waiting for his arrival never seem to end. It’s been five years now. The alpha is yet to be found, neither could Imogen find a way to lift the curse nor did she forget how Braylon was swallowed by a dark shadow right in front of her eyes. She is yet to discover what that shadow was. And she will stop at nothing to look for a way to lift the curse. ***

Suddenly, from the corner of the room, their mother’s voice rose in a broken wail. “Carla! Don’t take one of my children. It’s just me… It’s just me. Don’t make them suffer!” The plea cut through the air like a knife, raw and pleading. Their mother’s eyes were wide with terror, her bound hands twisting against the ropes as she rocked back and forth. The name “Carla” hung in the room like a summoned ghost, a tangible thread linking the present torment to the sins of the past. Eloise and Elena exchanged a glance heavy with shared dread—the curse was stirring again, drawing closer, its tendrils reaching for what little they had left.

No mortal could stand the heat here, but thankfully, being a dragon of fire, this heat is nothing to me. I cast my gaze around while making my way in and took in the craftsmanship of the pillars, along with the colourful floor designs. This place is so different from what I am accustomed to, but I can appreciate how marvellous it is in design. The throne itself has several steps leading up to it and they have crafted it from solid gold. “Why do you come here?” The figure on the throne demands.

She felt it was her responsibility, but she also knew she couldn't fight them alone, but she needed help from others, she thought. She used her curse which was "cursed speech". She was able to make something happen with just a word. If she was to say die to anyone they would die instantly, but that depends on how strong the soul of the person was. She used her cursed speech to curse three swords, that can be used to kill anyone that was cursed, with a stab in the chest. She wanted to do more but she couldn't, the cursed energy was too heavy for her mortal body to behold. The three she did take a toll on her body and she lost her voice. She wasn't able to speak or talk again since that day.