Cursed Ships Novels & Stories

I look back at the paper and unwrap it, finding a handwritten note with the heading; the cursed brothers and their doom. Curiosity gets the best of me and I find myself reading the rest of the note. “The three brothers were once human, they lived in 1700s before they were cursed by a powerful witch because of their evil deeds; they were the first werewolves to never walked the surface of the earth,” Suddenly, I feel like I'm reading something I shouldn't but again, curiosity wins and I read the rest of the note. “The spell was both a curse and a blessing. It gave them immortality, riches and the wealth they'd always desired but then came their doom in the form of a girl who is said bare the

Atrocious replied, rubbing an orb on the armrest of his chair. "Reveal? What do you have to reveal?" Draco raised an eyebrow, realizing that it must be serious if Atrocious was acting this way. Atrocious was never one to think or worry so much about anything and when he does, it meant it was something to be taken very seriously. Atrocious sighed heavily, picked up the orb, and muttered a spell. The orb became surrounded by a mist of emerald color, and an obscure figure appeared within it. "It's a curse. Your brother, the Alpha King, is cursed."

" She held up her wrist, showcasing a sparkling green bracelet. Then, she smirked, pointing at the simple bracelet on my wrist. "Do you really think Ethan bought that especially for you? It's just a freebie that came with mine. You're only fit for my hand-me-downs!" I glanced down at my bracelet. It was a birthday gift from Ethan a few months ago, and I had always treasured it even though it was not expensive. Yet, it had unexpectedly become Mandy's tool for humiliation, a weapon to wound me.

Cerberus Protocol had ignited flawlessly. The first ship was hit by a drone-launched depth charge, detonated just beneath the keel. The explosion cracked it in half like a crucifix dropped on stone. The second was struck by a magnetic torpedo — a gift from an old Soviet pipeline Matteo had “reactivated” in silence. The third… that one was different. It didn’t sink. It burned. From the inside out. Flames poured from every window and vent like the ship itself was coughing out hell. Men leapt overboard, screaming. Bullets rained from the sky, fired from remote choppers above. They never even saw the shooters. Just death, cloaked in wind and fury.

"Don't do it," he yelled. "Elara! Stop!" I wanted to, so I gave in to it... gladly letting the darkness take me with it. ****** She was wolfless, powerless, and marked as an outcast. He was born ruthless, powerful — an Alpha feared not just in the packs, but in the underworld where blood and power rule. When Elara discovers her fated mate is the man who destroyed her pack and crushed her world, her life begins to fall apart again. He should be her protector… but to him, she is nothing but a liability he cannot afford. But fate is merciless. They tried to fight it but their bond burns too fiercely to be ignored. Will Elara risk her heart and safety for the mate who ruined

They saw Husks. Dozens of "Mirror-Chrome" vessels, identical to the Overseer ship that had nearly burned the world, began to drift into Earth’s atmosphere. But these ships were scarred. Their iridescent hulls were dull, pitted with "Data-Cysts," and trailing long plumes of entropic gray smoke. The Taxonomy of the Fallen "They aren't attacking," Lucian observed, standing on the observation deck of the Cotopaxi Anchor. "They're... venting. Look at the heat signatures. They’re running on emergency reserves."

They spoke of his strength, how he cut through a pack of rogues single-handedly, how even death seemed to follow wherever he went. Elysia listened but said nothing. She didn’t know what he looked like. Only the name. Alaric Varyn. The cursed Alpha. The man whose soldiers had burned her home to ash. The man whose family’s war had ended hers. They said he was cursed, that his touch brought death. That no woman lived to tell of him. But Elysia didn’t care about curses. Curses were her mother’s craft, not hers. What she cared about was vengeance.

The life I have spent half of, running, hiding, surviving, was never meant to be kept. It was only meant to be borrowed. I was always destined to die. The words i had read and buried deep in my mind, floats back to me casually : ‘A cursed union doomed from the start.’ I stop walking. My heart stutters, then skids to a halt. The book wasn’t speaking in riddles. It was talking about us.

And as it touched the floorboards, the wood beneath it turned black, freezing into a layer of brittle, pitch-colored frost. "What is that?" someone shouted from the middle of the room. The sleeping men were awake now, scrambling to their feet as the bitter cold radiating from the black mist swept across the hold. "Is the hull leaking?" another voice yelled, drawing a sword. "Did we hit a reef?" "That ain't seawater!" the scarred rogue screamed, scrambling toward the stairs. "It's curse-water! The bay is cursed!" Panic erupted instantly. Three hundred nervous, freezing mercenaries surged toward the wooden ladder, shoving and screaming as they tried to reach the upper hatch to escape the black

I forced my head up, my teeth grinding against the metallic taste of blood and sulfur that filled my mouth. Above the ruined apex of the Spire, through the jagged holes in the shattered dome, the three massive, wedge-shaped hulls of the charcoal titanium battleships weren't firing anymore. Their underside target-acquisition bays were sputtering wildly, the solid violet lenses flickering between a dangerous crimson and a dead, empty grey as the systemic hard-reboot I had forced into the baseline began to bleed into their navigation arrays. Without the High Council's central core to provide a unified targeting frequency, the ships were blind—three hundred thousand tons of military-grade hardwa