Cursed Founding Chapters Novels & Stories

Hear a random voice; check. Find an abandoned tower deep in the woods; check. Release an ancient shadow god; check. Release the ancient shadow god from a centuries old debt; check. Be fucked by said shadow god and left to clean up the mess he made; double check. My night was just one weird fucking mess…

Obscura Arcanum: ob‑SKYOOR‑uh ar‑KAY‑nəm School Founders: Werewolf Founder Cillian Hawthorne pronunciation: KILL-ee-an HAW-thorn Vampire Founder Selene Nerezza pronunciation: si-LEE-nee neh-RET-tsah Wizard/Witch Founder Alaric Everley pronunciation: AL-ə-rik EHV-ə-lee Dragon Founder Seraphine Aurelian pronunciation: SEH-RA-FEEN aw·ree·lee·uhn

Welcome to the world of the Crimson Accord. Before you step into Nathaniel and Margot’s story, I want to give you a glimpse behind the curtain. Their world is layered with centuries of history, intricate politics, and old secrets that shape every choice they make. This chapter is here as your guide, so when unfamiliar terms or traditions appear, you can navigate them with ease and immerse yourself fully in the intrigue, danger, and desire that drive this tale. You’ll also find a quick reference to the Founding Ten families, including where they are based and the business they control, so you can keep track of the many characters and houses for an easier reading experience.

The words tore from my chest in a roar that bounced off the stone walls, rattling the chains until sparks of blue magic flared along the runes. The air thickened with power, the familiar pressure of the curse descending. My muscles trembled as the first tremors of the shift ignited beneath my skin. Heat bloomed, searing, relentless. It started as a low burn in my bones and then erupted, a wildfire racing through veins that no longer felt human. The beast stirred. I clenched my jaw until my teeth ached, fighting the inevitable. “Not yet,” I snarled, though the command was meaningless. The beast never listened. It only hungered.

“the curse continues adapting.” “What does that mean?” I inquired, glancing at Rodney. “It means,” Elder Mara replied , “the curse is no longer satisfied with simple physical warmth.” My brows rose. “I don’t understand.” After a moment’s hesitation, Healer Joshua finally pointed to symbols drawn across the old parchment. “The curse formed during a rejected mate transition. The Moon Omega bond failed which created some spiritual damage during the attempted mating process.” He glanced at Rodney. “The curse attached itself to the Alpha’s bonding instincts.”

She howled, picking me up from the bench by my sore arm. “I don’t really have a choice here..” I shot back, trying to keep my tone very low. “You think you can change him? I have been here longer than anyone else and I will tell you the truth. You can’t stay here with that man!” I swallowed the lump in my throat and slowly pulled my hand away from hers, “why not?” I asked and she scoffed. “Jordan is cursed! There’s a beast living within him and he won’t tell you this because he wants to trap you here and drain the life out of you until you have absolutely nothing to live for!”

He asks as he stands. I nod mutely, now more invested in the food than anything he has to say. He steps from the room for a moment, and if there were no guards, I would probably use this chance to make a run for it. He returns a small painting in his hand that he places in front of me. “This is Sire with the Alpha at the time," he tells me, pointing at each figure depicted in the painting in turn. I frown, looking closer. There is Sire, with his dark hair and tattoo's. Beside him stands a man I recognise as the founding Alpha. He's only called that because he absorbed Sire's old Pack once he was cursed.

A faint click sounded, followed by the slow grind of a concealed door sliding open. Inside was a safe—my own personal vault. It held only the things that mattered. Money, letters, secrets no one else would ever see. And the stolen book. I pulled it free, my hands steady despite the storm in my mind. The cover was worn, the edges frayed, but the power within had never faded. I flipped through the brittle pages, scanning the text with a sharp, desperate focus. Then I found it—The Mark of the Triarch. The inked script told a story as old as the first wars of our kind. Unlike the Mark of the Septarch, which granted sevenfold power, the Mark of the Triarch was lesser—but just as powerful. An awak

If he was unable to provide an heir or at least bring evidence that he was capable of having an heir, then the crown would likely return to Stefan whose wife was already pregnant. Although Damian acted like being the alpha didn't matter to him, I could tell he was lying. He was hurt, even if it wasn't because he was going to lose his birthright, he was probably angry that he might not be able to have a child of his own. He probably loathed me by now, all I've done since I entered his life was create problems for him. First it was Michael, and now his people would probably go back to calling him cursed because I couldn't bear him a child.