Cursed Heir: Bloodline Of The Damned

"Get on your knees, Eli. Now."

The Beta's voice cut through the drizzle like a whip. I dropped before my legs could give out, mud sucking at my shins, cold seeping straight through my worn pants. Silver chains clamped around my wrists burned like brands, eating into my skin with every twitch. I kept my head down, staring at the boots circling me, boots I'd helped mend more times than I could count.

"You don't have to do this," I rasped, tasting dirt on my tongue.

Beta Harlan stepped closer, his shadow blocking what little gray light reached the clearing outside pack territory. "The king's hunters found the evidence, boy. Scent traces. Medicine wrappers. You know what that means."

I did. Male Omega. Abomination. Death sentence for the whole pack if they hid me any longer.

Another Alpha, Marcus, the one who'd taught me to track when I was twelve, shifted his weight. "Harlan, his scent's already shifting. We need to move before…"

"Shut it," Harlan snapped. But I felt it too. The heat I'd choked down for six straight months with those black-market pills was waking up, stirred by the silver pain and the wall of hostile Alpha bodies pressing in. A slow burn crawled up my spine. My skin prickled. Worse, I could smell myself changing, that sweet-sharp edge leaking through the masking oils I'd layered on this morning.

I yanked at the chains. Fresh fire shot up my arms. "Please." The word scraped out between chattering teeth. "Just kill me here. Right now. Don't make me go before the king like this. Don't…don't let him see me... like this."

Harlan crouched, eyes hard but voice almost tired. "You'll die either way, Eli. At least this way the pack survives. The rest of us get to live."

"You raised me." My voice cracked. I looked up at him, at all of them. "You taught me to hunt. To hide. Marcus, you patched my first shift wound yourself. And now you're handing me over like meat?"

Marcus looked away. One of the younger Alphas muttered something about loyalty and curses. The burn between my legs deepened, slick starting to gather despite every desperate attempt to clench down and stop it. Humiliation crawled hot up my neck. They could smell it. I knew they could.

Harlan grabbed my chin, forcing my head up. "You think we wanted this? The hunters were already circling. One more day and they'd have burned the whole territory looking for you. This is mercy, boy. For everyone else."

Mercy. The word tasted like ash.

I tried to pull free but the silver only dug deeper. A fresh wave of heat rolled through me, making my stomach clench and my thighs tremble. My scent bloomed stronger, sweet, needy, wrong. One of the Alphas growled low in his throat before catching himself.

"See?" Harlan released me and stood. "Even now your body's making it worse. Get him up. We march."

Rough hands hauled me to my feet. The chains rattled, dragging my arms forward. Every step sent fresh slick sliding down my skin, soaking into the fabric between my legs. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood, trying to focus on the pain instead of the building ache.

We moved out of the clearing, boots squelching in the mud. The capital lay hours away. Hours of this.

"Walk faster," someone behind me muttered. "King won't like waiting."

I stumbled. An Alpha caught my elbow, too tight, fingers digging in. His breath hitched as my scent hit him full force. "Fuck... he's really…"

"Don't," I snarled, voice shaking. "Don't you dare."

But my body didn't care what I wanted. The heat surged higher, twisting low in my gut like a living thing. My nipples tightened against my shirt. Another rush of slick made my thighs slippery. I could feel my pupils blowing wide, my breathing turning shallow and desperate.

Harlan fell into step beside me, keeping pace. "Keep your head down when we get there. Say nothing unless asked. Maybe he'll make it quick."

"Quick?" A bitter laugh tore out of me. "You know what they do to things like me. And now I'm walking in there already..." I couldn't finish. The words stuck behind the lump in my throat.

The path narrowed between trees. Rain dripped from the leaves onto my face, mixing with the sweat breaking out across my forehead. Every jolt of the chains sent sparks of pain and unwanted pleasure shooting through me. I hated how my body responded to the Alpha scents surrounding me, how some broken part of me whispered ‘alpha, strong, claim’ even while the rest of me screamed in terror.

Marcus spoke up from behind, quieter. "If you fight in the throne room, it'll be worse for you. Just... submit. Maybe he'll…"

"Submit?" I twisted to glare at him, nearly tripping again. "Like you submitted by dragging me out here? Like all of you?"

Harlan shoved me forward. "Enough talking."

But I couldn't stop. Words poured out between gasps as another heat cramp hit. "I masked everything. Every scent. Every heat. Twenty-four years of disappearing and you throw me away the second it's inconvenient. What kind of pack does that?"

"The kind that wants to live," Harlan said flatly.

The capital's distant walls came into view after what felt like forever, black stone rising against the gray sky. My legs shook harder with every step. Slick had soaked through my pants now. I could smell myself everywhere, thick and unmistakable. The Alphas around me moved with stiff, uncomfortable tension, jaws tight, eyes flicking away.

I was going to stand in front of the Unbreakable Sovereign like this. Already wet. Already desperate. Already broken open by my own traitorous body.

Harlan glanced sideways at me, voice low. "Almost there. Try to breathe."

Breathe? I wanted to laugh or scream or beg them to slit my throat right here on the road. Instead I just kept walking, chains burning, heat raging, terror and something darker twisting together in my chest.

This was it. The end of every careful year of survival. I was going to enter King Vesperian's throne room slick and shaking and ready to be used.

And there was nothing left I could do to stop it.