Curse Rune Novels & Stories

"What the hell did I just see?" "You’ve really pissed someone off, luna." Rome responded, pursing his lips. "You’ve got a rather strong curse on you." "Curse?" I repeated, not sure if I believed what he said. "And what kind of curse is it?" "It is a Vindicta curse." Rome explained. "It seems that you’ve done something to highly offend the caster." "I mean, that is a possibility." I agreed. After all, my past was marred with lots of death and hate. "But if I do have such a curse on me, how do I get rid of it?"

Her fingers steadied, ash scent sharp, courage flickering but strong, her maps a guide for shadows, a new rune appearing on her parchment, unbidden, pulsing faintly. Tess stepped forward, hazel eyes fierce, hand on her hilt, voice clear. “Let the curse come—pack’s fire burns hotter.” Her cloak swayed, dawn catching her fire, a warrior poised, loyalty her blade, the ash scent a challenge, her hand tightening, sensing a shift in the earth, subtle, wrong.

The pages fell open to the part on blood curses, the parchment worn from desperate readings. The curse of blood rage cannot be stopped by strength alone. Like calls to like, power to power. The Ruby Wolf's flame may calm the beast or feed it. I'd read the text countless times but never had the chance to test it. Until now. Another rune flickered out as my claws extended automatically, shredding the edge of the book. "Damn it," I hissed, closing the book shut. I reached for the communication panel by the door, pausing only a moment before pressing the button.

I could smell their aggression. "We have twenty hours left " Kael said, looking at the moon. "Open the door Lira. Quickly." I went up to the door. I could feel the power of the stone. It was like the energy that was in Ronans skin. I realized that the "curse" was not a mark of death but a key. I took a dagger and cut my palm. The blood was red. It had a silvery shine, in the moonlight. I pressed my palm into the stone moon. The mountain started to rumble. The runes flared into a white light and the stone door dissolved into mist.

She pushed herself up slightly against the pillows, her voice ringing through the shadowed bedroom with surprising force. “Heartless people… You are demons!” she rasped, each word laced with venom. “You will regret what you’ve done to me. I curse you and your child. On the day I leave this world, I will charge you. I will take a life and ensure you live without peace. My spirit will haunt you until the end of your days!” Her voice echoed off the high ceilings, raw and haunting, before collapsing into a fit of coughing. Even in the grip of death, Carla poured every remaining ounce of her will into the curse.

“Our pack was the crescent. The Alvuelas were concerned about power, they wanted to rule the entire werewolves pack with the tip of their fingers. It wasn’t in favour of the other packs as they have predicted how toxic the leadership will be, they prefer to be ruled by their own alpha since there is an alpha in every pack. The Alvuelas used violence and threatened the other subordinate packs with the death of their whole pack. They didn’t have much choice than to follow his influence and voted the Alvuelas in power. But there were two heroes from the crescent pack that stood against the whole process. They stood up against the Alvuelas which they didn’t know could lead to their death. The Al

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.

"He will fall in love with her, but she will hate him. She would be the lowlest of beings but he would crave her touch. She is his antidote, cure, that he can never have. He will be a blasphemy to his generation, she would be the one to redeem him. He is the cursed one. What don't you understand here?" "You mean my son is cursed, and this curse can be broken unless he meets her right? Meet who?" "Unless he meets his mate, who unfortunately for the both of them would never love him." "What!" The mother of the baby boy exclaimed. "Can't the moon goddess help him in locating his mate? Can't she help them fall in love?" The father asked the witch who just raised her eyebrows and laughed again hy

But the Wyres are dangerous. Their bite is lethal to Shifters and, if you do survive, you turn into one of them. The curse is transferred through your bloodstream, killing your spirit and replacing it with a monster. They’ve been trying to get their revenge ever since, killing us simply because of an old myth that might not even be true. But, to be fair, we kill as many of them as they kill us. If there are talks of peace, that would be…historical. Impossible. And definitely something I deserve to know about as Princess.

"The curse is real." "No," I said desperately. "What do you mean, this isn't me!" "Four hours," Dante whispered, looking directly at me. "You've been here four hours and I'm already dying." "What do you mean by that? and if you think so, is this how curses work?" "Isn't it?" Soren asked coldly. "Your first mate died in a hunting accident. Random attack. Your second mate got killed by rogues. Random attack. The third mate just dropped dead. Random death."