My Love Was His Cure Novel Novels & Stories

Even if it was cursed it was their love in the end. Their Cursed Love. ____________________________________ THE END Hope you guys loved the story. Thanks for all the support and love. Don't forget to follow me on I* guys it's mirah_selim for my upcoming stories information. Till the next story adios

I would rather have her to myself, but I'm not cold enough to deny her the mate of her second chance in life, the father to her pups. I grab a spare office, working with the healer in order to find out if this cure in question will actually work. I have a dirty, bloody bandage left over from Ryan and we add a drop or two to the bloody spots, waiting to see if anything happens under the microscope that will show the cure trying to fight the infection. The healer jolts back from the microscope, shaking his head rapidly. "That's not good." "What's wrong? What did it do?" "The cure isn't some antibiotic, it's some kind of molding aspect to the blood. It's changing to molecules completely, not ju

Through Lily, Emily learned that love was not a finite resource but an infinite wellspring from which one could draw strength and solace. With newfound courage, Emily allowed herself to love again. The love that blossomed between her and Lily was different yet equally profound. It was a love marked by compassion, understanding, and the shared experience of loss. Together, they navigated the intricate dance of grief and healing, holding each other's hands through the ups and downs.

The world seemed to vanish with every kiss, every touch, every ragged sigh we shared. “My wife,” Gabriel breathed against my mouth. “My husband,” I whispered back, smiling through the tears in my eyes. What started as a game of revenge became a forbidden love I thought we could never have. But love didn’t just conquer, It healed us. And now, it’s ours forever. “And so, Gabriel and Clairessa’s love forever blossoms” ―――― The End 💕 Author’s Note To my amazing readers, From the bottom of my heart, thank you. 💖

Seraphina had gone mad in her final days, lost in self-doubt. “Asher…” I choked, my voice barely above a whisper. Asher’s jaw clenched. “Where’s the cure then?” “A-A cure? No, there is no cure.” My heart plummeted. No cure? Then we couldn’t resist the pull Selene had over Asher. Would they eventually fall in love? Would our connection—what little we had—slowly fade away? Would I… go insane, too? “No. No, that’s not true.” I shook my head violently, my voice breaking. “You’re lying. There has to be a cure.”

He caught her chin in a nearly painful grip, forcing her to look at the raw, unbridled obsession written in the lines of his face. "You want to talk about cures?" Dante asked, his thumb sliding over her lower lip, pulling it down to reveal the small, frantic pulse in her throat. "There is no cure for this. No logic explains why I can't breathe unless I can feel your heart beating against mine. If your blood is supposed to 'fix' me, then let it happen while I’m inside you. Let the cure burn us both to ash."

All of it. The diagnosis. Eighteen months when he was told. Possibly less now. The doctor’s call that morning changing it to six months. The plan that he’d made that day in the elevator — the deliberate decision to fall in love as a final act before the clock ran out. The part where he was going to leave her without explanation so she never had to watch him disappear. The file he’d read on Connor. The contract extension he’d engineered. The measurements he’d called to check knowing she was on the floor. Every calculated moment. He spoke without looking away from her. Without apologizing. Without trying to make it sound better than it was.

She tried to act cute as she reached for his sleeve, but he shoved her away hard. Even the dean exploded in anger. "You've got some nerve! How dare you touch Ms. Hemingway's research materials? Those were the key findings for treating Mr. Fenton's rare disease, and now you've destroyed them!" "My Professor has a rare disease?" Cheryl froze for a second, then suddenly pointed at me and burst out laughing. "Joanna told you that, didn't she? You've all been tricked by her! My Professor's been perfectly healthy this whole time. How could he possibly be sick?"

It seems like he had never tried to cure them which ached her soul. Those marks on his body were making her recall about those times when she used to have such marks on her whole body but instead of feeling disgust, he cured them with his love, warmth and care but she was never there for him to cure his marks because she herself was the reason because of which he had received those wounds.

Ignoring the murmurs of the crowd, he had carried me all the way to his office and gently set me down. Taking out a first aid kit, he grabbed some alcohol wipes and saline solution. “It’s just some scrapes, nothing serious,” he said softly. “If it hurts, let me know, and I’ll be gentler.” He knelt on one knee beside the sofa, his gaze focused as he cleaned my wounds. His touch was so delicate as though he was restoring a priceless treasure.