Kiss Of The Cursed Alpha
“You think you can?”
“I’d rather die trying than let them turn you into something you’re not.”
She stared at him.
And then, without warning, kissed him.
Not soft. Not gentle.
It was fierce. Desperate.
A claiming.
He groaned, pulling her into his lap, the bond flaring between them like a flame touched to oil.
She tasted like wildfire and defiance.
But just as quickly as it began, she pulled away, panting.
“I can’t stay hidden anymore,” she whispered. “I’m not just some cursed rogue, Ronan. I’m Hollowborn. I’m… an heir to something old and terrifying. And I think Kale wants me to wear that crown.”