Cursed Letters Novels & Stories

he said. "What! It can't be. I was the one he loved at first. Why the sudden twist of fate?" I asked. "You have to understand that the Alpha is under a curse and the only person that can help him break it is that girl and that's why they are bonded together," he explained. "Curse…! I think I have a brief knowledge of that," she said. "I am telling you all this so that you won't feel worse when you find him in the arms of another woman. They are fated mates," he said.

The letters are old and yellowed, some wrinkled with water damage; but they’re still readable. I unfold the first letter and begin to read. “To M: I’ve fallen ill. The doctor doesn’t understand my symptoms. I’ve lost contact with my wolf, and I feel weak and vulnerable. Every day my fever grows worse, and my body aches. I can barely hold my pen as I write this… I don’t think this is any ordinary sickness. The Queen warned me of a curse last night. Could this be the curse that befell the Lycan King’s wife during the final summit when she ate the berries?

LAVINIA'S POV "Son, I still don't understand why you agreed to this marriage in the first place, we could have easily gone to war instead. That girl is cursed, she could bring destruction to our pack but yet you're still adamant about it." Alpha Argo said and my heart clenched. I didn't realize it but tears had gathered at the edge of my eyes. Was this really what my future father in-law thought about me? How can he refer to me as cursed and a bringer of destruction? What had I ever done to him?

As they reached the deepest of the Curse Mountain, Mariya was starting to doubt her knowledge of this world. This world was filled with too much mystery, not only there are Alphas, there also Lunas that was destined to the Alphas, and the Witches that connected by some sort of fate to the Werewolves!

Her voice wavered as she crouched down and snatched the baby bottle from the woman's unsuspecting grip. Her hands trembled, her eyes wide with dread. "W-Where did you get this bottle?" Turning toward me, her gaze was filled with accusation and despair. Tears welled up as her voice cracked. "This… this is the bottle I gave to Nicholas, isn't it?!"

There were footsteps heard from outside the home, and Lucinda turned to the commotion. There, on her back, Jean Luc saw it. Two letters that he was too blind to see. Two letters that meant evil and destruction and blood. On her exposed back, the two small letters stood out so painfully obvious in the intricate curves of her tattoo. RD It was the last thing he saw before he fell into an unconscious void.

Iris nodded lightly, raising her hand to trace a few intricate patterns in the air while muttering a quiet incantation. Moments later, the envelope glowed faintly with a dark red hue. “This letter is cursed,” Iris said with a frown. “Anyone who touches its contents will fall gravely ill.”

My voice cracked on the words because I was certain that he did love me. Confusion marred her perfect features. “Is he sick?” Because truly, that would be the only other problem. “He's cursed.” I blurted out. “Cursed?” She sounded disbelieving. “Yes, cursed.” I spent the next few minutes explaining Brian's curse, his age, the death of his prior mates, and the future event of my possible death.

It has been a thousand years now and many third month of the full moon had passed but I was yet to meet the destined one. I opened my eyes which was filled with agony. My heart felt heavy from the burden I had been carrying for thousands of years. I regretted the day I had killed that innocent man thinking he was responsible for the death of my parents. What I didn’t know was the man had been cursed and whoever killed him would be the new host of the curse. Being able to live for thousands of years might be the longing of many wolves but not me as I was tired of repeating the same cycle over and over again.

Fresh tears blurred the words. “Do not tell him the truth.” “He will never believe you.” “The curse began three hundred years ago.” “Every man who truly loves a woman born with our blood…” ”…will slowly surrender his life.” ⸻ A tear landed on the page. The ink blurred slightly. ⸻ “The first kiss marks him.” “The second weakens him.” “The third binds his soul.” “After the seventh…” The sentence ended abruptly. The rest of the page had been burned away. ⸻