Miraculous Cursed Images Novels & Stories

“This is not a curse, it’s a rebound. The spell that you asked Evelyn to place has bounced back to you. It seems like you ran into a small obstacle.” “But then again, in dark magic, it’s the smallest mistake that ruins great things.” Mavis’s eyes widened. The curse rebounded? How … How was that possible!? “There is no way….” She muttered as she looked at her feet which were covered with nothing but blotches and pus-covered pimples and bruises.

Not from fear. But from a memory. A soft one. Faint. Killian’s arms around her. A kiss pressed against her forehead. The smell of the sea. Her laughter. It flickered in her mind like a dying candle flame. She rushed to the bathroom mirror and stared at her reflection. “I know you,” she whispered. “Don’t I?” The reflection smiled back, but it wasn’t her smile. It was Isolde’s. The mirror cracked. Killian, desperate to protect Ivy, reached out to an old ally—Mira, a spirit weaver known for her uncanny ability to trace curses and spiritual bindings. Mira arrived cloaked in salt and moonlit ash.

“I am a cursed immortal man, moonshine. There's very little they can do to me. I'll be alright.” Her fingers traced shapes across my chest. A circle. A triangle. Something without form. But as I shut my eyes, an unbidden image of large ocean blue eyes flashed, and I blinked my eyes open in shock. Something wasn't right.

Once each new crescent, and my strength explodes with little care of what it destroys. The gate groaned as it was slowly opened, and a mouldy piece of bread was thrown at my feet. A pitiful gesture to the monster they’d been conditioned to see me as. My father, the infamous Alpha had thrown me in the dephts of the Seven Tower Gate, a prison inside the Organization’s clutches. To the world, Opal had died – a lie spun out of thin air to keep their eyes and ears away. The truth was far less heartwrenching- I was the result of a witch’s curse, a hex cast on my mother, the woman my father murdered when he destroyed Beacon Hill City. The curse had distorted my fate, making me a threat to anyone I

I stop abruptly and the man stops with me, his hand grabbing my arm and pulling me close. "Did not think someone like you would be this shy-" he traces my face with the back of his fingers and I slap his hand away from my face, shaking lightly. "Someone like me?!" I hiss between my teeth and it seems that my rage only fuels something within the man as he smirks at me, showing off his disgustingly yellow teeth. Up close, Father Cassimir is even more disgusting. Maybe if he took better care of himself... no! It was a matter of the heart! his heart was tainted and no amount of water and soap would wash that away!

Rejecting my mate meant losing my only chance in breaking the curse. Still, I’d rather die than ever be mated to someone from the Crescent pack. They say rejecting a mate feels like dying. They weren’t wrong. The pain was unbearable—like every bone in my body was shattering at once. I couldn’t fight it anymore. Everything went black. The sound of beeping machines woke me. Soft voices hovered at the edge of my consciousness. “She really does look like her,” someone murmured. “Yes, she does. The Luna brought her back—said she found her daughter,” another replied.

The red eyes remained, but they were filled with fear. “This isn't over,” Alaric snarled. “I am part of the curse. As long as the curse exists, I will return.” “Then we will destroy the curse,” Siron replied, her voice firm and sounding foreign to her own ears. Morat looked at her with pride and tenderness. You are incredible. Alaric hissed, and then the monster’s form collapsed, turning into a green mist that shriveled and disappeared through the cracks in the floor, leaving behind the scent of rotting flowers.

It didn’t matter that he was human; he was still a precious member of the pack. “No, yes…maybe…I don’t know…” Freya swiped her hands through her hair. “He brought her flowers yesterday afternoon…black dahlias and red poppy.” “So?” So Julian gave Mirage flowers…what was wrong with that? “Black dahlias and red poppy…are considered cursed flowers, Alex.” Freya sighed. “And these were imbued in some kind of spell. Mirage seemed constantly afraid…panicked, until I burned down the flowers and she returned to her normal self slowly.”

It didn't matter that he was human; he was still a precious member of the pack. "No, yes…maybe…I don't know…" Freya swiped her hands through her hair. "He brought her flowers yesterday afternoon…black dahlias and red poppy." "So?" So Julian gave Mirage flowers…what was wrong with that? "Black dahlias and red poppy…are considered cursed flowers, Alex." Freya sighed. "And these were imbued in some kind of spell. Mirage seemed constantly afraid…panicked, until I burned down the flowers and she returned to her normal self slowly."