บททั้งหมดของ THE CURSED ONE : บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

“You’re wrong.” The words rang out low and sharp. Alpha Damian had spoken. All eyes turned. “She has a wolf.” He continued voice steady and sharp as steel, “ But I forbade her to shift.” Shock struck the crowns like a whip. “ You what?” Elder Haroun’s brows furrowed. “I forbade it.” Damian repeated. “As her Alpha and her mate. Her wolf is dangerous, unpredictable. It isn’t her fault. She has power tied to ancient bloodlines, if she shifted, I fear it would unbalance the trial and draw attention we weren’t ready for.” Whispers bloomed into roars. “That is against the rules.” One Elder snapped. “ All Lunas and Alphas must shift for the trial. No exceptions.” “And if she can’t?” Another snarled “She is disqualified. You are disqualified.” Amber began to coil in Laura’s chest. Her hands balled into fists. Her lips parted, then shut. Elara stirred. “Let me.” A growl came from within. “ No.” Laura whispered internally “ not now.” But her fury was rising. At Marisa. At the Elders

The sound of bone cracking echoed again as Caleb’s body collided with a pillar, blood streaking down his lips. But he laughed, a deep mocking sound that only Enraged both Arthur and Damian further. “Damian—STOP!” Laura’s voice rang out like a bell of depression, but her mate didn’t hear her. He was gone, submerged in wolf instinct, lost in that violent storm that came with betrayal.Councilmen kept to their feet. Gasps filled the terrace.“Guards!” Councilman Harmon bellowed “Subdue the Alpha of Blackmoon now!”Dozens of elite guards lept, their weapons tipped with silver and their armor designed to withstand wolf shifts. Arthur snarled fangs barred, eyes glowing.It took four men to flank him, two more to force him down with silver tipped spears, and another six to form a containment circle. Even then, the beast fought. His growls shook the marble floors. Sparks of power and dominance threatened to burn the very air.Laura stepped forward “please—no he’s not himself—he didn’t mean t

The safehouse was thick with smoke scented air and grief. The cries of children, the broken sobs of mothers, and the stunned silence of elders painted a picture of a shattered home. Faces were streaked with soot and tears. The fire had consumed more than buildings. It had devoured safety, memories and hope.Beta Ronan stood tall in the center of the room, but his eyes betrayed his pain. His mate, Lira moved between packmembers, whispering soft reassurances, holding trembling hands, doing her best to calm a storm that words alone couldn’t weather.“Where is our Alpha?!” Someone cried out from the crowd.“Why isn’t he here?” “My brother died in that fire, who answers for this!?”The voices rose like flames again, searing with heartbreak and fury. Ronan raised his voice firm and commanding, silencing them all.“Enough!”.The room fell into a tense, expectant quiet.“I know this loss is unbearable. And I know you all want answers. But right now our focus must be survival. We will contac

The first rays of the morning sun light filtered through the thin fabric of the tent, bathing the sleeping figure of Hope Blake in soft amber warmth. Outside, the sounds of hammers, voices and the low hum of determination. Blackmoon was stirring again, wounded and alive. Hope shifted in her makeshift bed, her dark hair falling across her face. A gentle rustle came from the entrance, and a familiars scent of herbs and honey drifted in before Mira. She stepped in carrying a steaming cup of brewed roots and leaves.“Hope. Good morning.” Mira said softly, setting the cup beside her. “ Drink this it will help with your strength.” Hope blinked, sat up slowly, and rubbed her eyes. The aroma made her stomach twist in hunger, but her heart softened at the thought that Mira had brought her something warm. She touched her fingers to her lips and signed “thank you.”Mira smiled, her pale blue eyes reflecting in the dim sunlight. “You don’t need to thank me. You’ve done enough Hope. You need to

The question echoed in the grand dining hall like a stack of thunder.“Luna Laura, where is your mate mark?”The voice came from the far end of the room. Measured, sharp and powerful. The hall fell into a hush as all eyes turned towards the speaker. Councilor Helen Morgan, the only female member of the high council, her silver streaked black robes gleaming with authority. She moved with poise, her every step a silent command. Her gaze, sharp as a blade locked on Laura.Laura—or rather Miguma, turned slowly. Her chin lifting, her eyes rising with unreadable emotion. Damian stiffened beside her. His hands clenched by his side, jaw ticking.Devore Laura could respond, Damian stepped forward. “We wanted to wait.” Damian said, his voice tense. “ Till the competition is over. When we are announced as victors, we’ll mark each other before the entire werewolf community—“Helen cut him off with a smirk. “Or maybe…” she began, stepping forward, her voice like a blade slicing through the air. “