Wicked Curse Novels & Stories

Every woman who marries into the Ardhana family dies on her wedding night. Alika, a quiet orphan with no memory of her past, is suddenly chosen to marry Damar Ardhana—the cold heir of a powerful bloodline surrounded by rumors, fear, and unanswered deaths. The town calls it a curse. Seven brides. Seven deaths. Always on the first night. No one survives the Ardhana wedding. Alika never believed in curses… until she wakes up inside an ancient mansion hidden in mist, standing at the altar beside a man who refuses to look at her as if she truly exists. That night, the house begins to whisper her name. Mirrors show a bride who is not her. And fragments of memories begin t

"The two skewers of the fireplace were tucked into Mrs. Delfine's eyes. I heard it was a horror, to make matters worse she was smiling." It was just that piece of conversation that Artemisia remembered, but at least for the young woman, it spoke enough about her great-aunt's state of mind. And it was also the detail that Artemisia needed to make sure that she and her great aunt were the only ones affected by that whole curse, at least the only ones who were hit the hardest. As much as the curse wasn't even real in the end, it had hit them both like a tornado, taking everything away from them, Delfine's life and then Artemisia's.

Tristan said to them firmly. Jade heaved a sigh. "I was able to break the curse on the witches Priestess but I cannot tell if it worked or not because I did not wait to check. Lydia and I have a plan to find the Queen mother and combine her powers with mind to put them all unconscious." "What I am saying is simple. If you say your howl could break the curse and call your kids to order, we will try that also, that way we will be able to put everyone unconscious on time," Jade said.

Melody screamed, shielding her face. But Gilda didn’t move. Her arms were raised in defiance, her white robe snapped in the furious wind. “I defy you.” She cried “ You wronged me. I will keep the curse on her.” The light coiled then struck. The it ripped through the veil that hid her beauty, burning it away. The air was now filled with the scent of scorched silk and searing skin. When the radiance dimmed for a heartbeat, half of Gilda’s once perfect face was gone, scorched black, veins of molten gold pulsing beneath the ruin. Yet even in agony she laughed a wolf, broken laugh.

I had to get out of here as fast and as far as I could, there was no other way. Why did Junior refer to the wolf mum as "what is going on, Lucifer?" Why are you acting so strangely? Why, Fabian, did you ask that? "Because that's who she is," I said, "what the hell is going on, Lucifer." She is who she is, says Fabian. You're claiming that she died and was then resurrected in another person's body? Lucifer asked in answer. The reason Jr. was able to identify his mother, in Fabian's opinion, is because he is still fairly young and hence still has a connection to her. Lucifer questioned his own powers and mused, "Why wasn't I able to recognize her as my mate back then?" She may have been trying

Marco asked If he was really interested in what will happen next. "He chose to kill himself," sister Clarity said. "What if the guy can't die? What if he will never die?" Ken asked with a stern voice. "What do you mean Mr Hendrix?" Sister Clarity's brows crossed. "I mean what if that was cursed of Lucifer to him? What If he was cursed to live forever so that he'll suffer forever, watching the woman he loves die repeatedly." My brows crossed. I heard a pinch of pain in his voice or maybe I was just delusional. Plus his idea made me more confused and curious about the two angel's love stories.

Sire tells her. I sigh. The lead was an old witch Sire thought he remembered. Turns out the witches great grandchild had decided not to procreate so their family line died out a long time ago. "There will be a way to end this. We will find out soon," I say, painting a faux smile on my face. My spirits haven't been very high recently. The curse has slowed down from it's initial devastation, but it is still very prevalent. It's only a matter of time before Hazel or I get sick.

F*ck, I’m losing it in here. I resisted the desire to pull my dress off me, along with everything under, and go over to them, suck each of their needing d*cks till they became sore. ‘Like that’s possible.’ The temperature continued rising and I cursed whoever was behind the controls. ‘I think you should take it easy with curses. Don’t you remember what happened last time?’ The curse. The council said it was my curse that made them sterile. It was scary to think that it could be true.

She went through the books on magic next and there was only a small section in the book about curses. *The power of a curse comes from three things:* *the emotions of the curse-layer, the inherent power of the curse-layer, and the susceptibility of the victim.* *Werewolves are not susceptible to curses.* She growled, “Obviously, you’re *wrong*.” She shoved the book back on the shelf and kept looking, hoping that there was something else somewhere in the library. Even if there was some kernel of truth in the passage, it wasn’t helpful. She needed to know how to break the curse not how to lay one.

"Because I found something at the Bodleian. Old texts from your time. Writings on spells, curses, witches. I have been working on them for days, trying to decipher them. And I think I have." He handed me a book, his notes marked in the margin. "I think what we felt when we kissed was not just us. It was the curse. Reacting to you. And to me." I blinked at him. "What do you mean?" He guided my eyes to the passage he had underlined and read, his voice low and steady. "It says: Only the kiss of true love, the union of fated souls, creates a ripple strong enough to shatter the curse." The words blurred. A cold that had nothing to do with the window crept up my spine. I let out a sudden, incredul