Chosen By The Cursed Alpha King Chapter 101

EMILIA'S POV

A low groan slipped from my lips as I forced my eyes open. My head throbbed violently, like someone had cracked it open with a hammer. The air was cold and thick, heavy with dust and the faint smell of iron.

My wrists burned.

When I tried to move, I realized I couldn't.

Ropes. Tight, rough, cutting into my skin. I was tied to a chair—arms bound behind me, ankles strapped to the legs. Panic hit me like a wave. My heart slammed against my ribs as I pulled hard, but the ropes didn't budge.

"Finally awake?"

The voice froze me. Familiar. Sharp. Venomous.

I lifted my head slowly—and my breath caught.

Standing in front of me were three faces I never thought I'd see together again.

My father. My mother. My sister.

For a moment, I thought I was still dreaming. That maybe my brain had conjured up some twisted nightmare. But no—the hatred in their eyes was real. The disgust on their faces was real.

My stomach turned. "What the hell is this?" I spat. "Why am I tied up?"

My voice echoed off the stone walls, harsh and shaky.

Rosella smirked, stepping closer. Her blond hair gleamed under the weak light, her lips curved into something cruel. "Why?" she repeated, tilting her head. "Because we finally have you where you belong, sister."

Before I could speak, her hand shot out and cracked across my face.

The sound echoed.

Pain stung my cheek, sharp and hot. I bit back a hiss, forcing a laugh instead. "You look so tense, Rosella," I said through gritted teeth. "What's wrong? Did you lose your doll?"

Her eyes flared. "You—" She raised her hand again, but Father stopped her with a single glance.

"Enough." His voice was cold, commanding. "Don't waste your energy. I'll handle this."

He looked at me then, really looked at me, and something in my chest twisted. His gaze was empty—no warmth, no mercy. Just disgust.

My mother folded her arms, her lips curling into a sneer. "You really are pathetic, Emilia. Whoring yourself to the King... and now his brother too?"

Her words sliced through me like glass.

Rosella made a sound of annoyance, grinding her teeth. "Damien is mine," she snapped. "He always should've been."

I laughed bitterly. "Oh please. Did you forget you were the ones who sent me to the king? You offered me up like a piece of meat. A sacrifice."

My father's eyes darkened. "We thought you were going to die," he said simply. "That was the plan. But it turns out our sweet little failure of a daughter has some... surprises. Some power that keeps her alive."

He took a step closer, and I could see the faint glint of silver at his belt—a dagger.

My stomach turned cold.

"Why?" I asked quietly. "Why do you want me dead so much? What did I ever do to deserve this?"

All three of them laughed.

Not kindly. Not out of madness. But cruelly—like they'd been waiting for this moment for years.

My father leaned down until his face was inches from mine. "Isn't it obvious?" he whispered. "We hate you. You're not one of us. You never were."

I stared at him, my throat tight. "You're insane."

"No," my mother said sharply. "We thought the Alpha King would get rid of you for us. We thought he'd tear you apart and save us the trouble. But instead..." Her voice dripped with disgust. "...you became his little pet. His favorite."

Her lip curled. "He even threatened us because of you."

I blinked, my chest burning. "He—what?"

My father's jaw clenched. "That arrogant bastard warned me never to touch you again. As if he's some saint."

I could feel my pulse pounding in my throat. The ropes were cutting into my wrists, but I didn't care anymore. Anger boiled through my veins, burning hotter than fear.

"What the hell is wrong with you people?" I shouted. "Do you even hear yourselves?"

Rosella stepped closer, her heels clicking against the floor. "What's wrong?" she said, her tone mocking. "You got the Alpha King fucking you and still managed to get Damien too. You're always in the way, Emilia. You take what isn't yours. You ruin everything."

My jaw clenched. "Damien is my mate," I said, my voice low and steady. "And even if he wasn't, what makes you think he'd ever want a tramp like you?"

Her face twisted with fury. She lunged forward, but Father caught her arm.

"Enough!" he barked. "We don't need to listen to her filth."

Rosella yanked her arm free, breathing hard, her eyes glowing faintly. "I'll kill her myself," she hissed. "I swear I will."

"Not yet," my mother said. Her tone was calm, almost amused. "Let her know the truth first."

My heart stuttered. "The truth?"

My mother's smirk deepened. "You think you know who you are, Emilia? You think you belong anywhere?" She stepped forward until her perfume—sweet and suffocating—filled my lungs. "You don't. You never did."

"What are you talking about?" I demanded.

Her gaze dropped to the mark on my neck—the one that still burned faintly beneath my skin. "You think we're disgusting? But guess who's the one fucking her parents' killer."

The words hit me like a thunderbolt.

For a second, everything inside me stopped—my breath, my heart, my thoughts.

Then the world tilted.

"What... what did you just say?" I whispered.