Chosen By The Cursed Alpha King Chapter 121

EMILIA'S POV

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

Maximus was staring at me like he was seeing the moon rise for the very first time—slow, stunned, disbelieving. My heart hammered so loudly I could barely hear anything else. His eyes were still slightly unfocused from shifting back, still raw from whatever storm had torn through him moments ago... but when they settled on me, it felt like the whole world narrowed into a single breath.

A single truth neither of us knew how to swallow.

His gaze kept flicking between my eyes, my mouth, my neck—back and forth like he was afraid he was imagining me.

"Maximus..." My voice came out broken, barely a whisper. "How... how is this possible? I thought Raina was your mate."

His jaw tensed, but his eyes softened—slowly, painfully—as he lifted his hand. His fingers trembled when they brushed my cheek, like he was scared I might disappear if he touched me too hard.

"You feel it too," he whispered.

I swallowed hard.

Goddess.

His voice.

It wasn't a question. It wasn't even a statement. It was a truth he was suddenly terrified of losing. His touch burned through me, that same electric pull surging through my blood.

I nodded—barely.

But I couldn't meet his eyes.

It felt too big. Too overwhelming. Too wrong and right at the same time.

"Emilia," he murmured, his voice deep and rough, "look at me."

I tried.

I really did.

But the moment I lifted my gaze, something in my chest twisted violently. Because when our eyes met... it felt like the world narrowed to just the space between us. Like nothing else existed or mattered or made sense anymore.

But then—

Someone cleared their throat.

The sound sliced between us like a blade.

Maximus tensed. I jerked back instinctively, the spell breaking—but before I could move away completely, his arm wrapped around me, pulling me right back against him.

I froze.

His grip wasn't harsh... but it wasn't gentle either. It was possessive. Protective. Unwilling to let me run even an inch from him.

Damien stood a few feet away, chest heaving, face still pale from everything that had just happened. His eyes flicked between us—first confused, then understanding, then something unreadable.

Maximus's fingers tightened around my waist.

He looked at Damien like he wanted to speak, but the words wouldn't come—like he didn't even know where to begin.

Damien exhaled shakily. "I'm... glad you're okay."

Maximus nodded once, stiffly. His jaw twitched as if there were a thousand things he wanted to say... but none of them would form.

I could feel him.

Literally feel him.

Heat pouring off him. His heartbeat slamming against my side. His breath brushing my temple. My body reacted before my mind could catch up—shivers running up my spine, my pulse tripping over itself.

Goddess, what was happening to me?

Lucien ran toward us. "Thank the goddess, Your Majesty, you're alright." His voice was breathless, relieved, frantic. Then he hesitated—his eyes widening slightly as he took in the sight of Maximus holding me like I was something he'd die before releasing.

Maximus didn't loosen his grip.

Lucien tried not to stare, but he failed spectacularly. "Here—" He pulled off the thick red robe draped over his arm and handed it to Maximus.

Maximus took it with one hand—his free arm still wrapped securely around me—and shrugged it on in a single fluid motion. Then, with that same free hand, he reached down and wrapped his fingers around mine.

A quiet gasp escaped my lips.

I didn't even mean to make it.

But the moment our hands touched, a spark shot up my arm.

He felt it too.

I knew he did.

His breath hitched—just barely—but it was enough to send warmth flooding through my cheeks.

Maximus turned to Lucien, voice low and dangerous. "Take Soraya to the dungeon. And Raina." His jaw tightened. "I need to speak to her. She has some explaining to do."

Raina.

Her name alone made my stomach twist.

Lucien bowed quickly before running off, barking orders.

Maximus turned to me again, his gaze burning into mine.

"We need to talk," he said quietly.

The words hit me like a punch—not because of what he said, but how he said it. Desperate. Raw. Like talking to me was suddenly more important than breathing.

Before I could respond—before I could even think—he scooped me into his arms.

"Maximus—!" I grabbed his shoulders instinctively. "Put me down!"

He didn't.

He didn't even slow.

He looked down at me, and the pain in his eyes made my breath stop. "Please," he whispered, voice rough. "For once, don't fight me."

I froze.

Completely.

Something in his voice—something quiet and fragile—cut straight into me. I stopped struggling. His arms tightened around me, and the tingling beneath my skin grew stronger. Too strong. Too real.

What game was the moon goddess playing?

Why him?

Why me?

Why now?

My mind spiraled with questions, with fear, with something dangerously close to longing.

We reached his chambers faster than I realized. Maximus pushed the doors open with his shoulder, stepped inside, and gently set me on my feet.

The moment I wasn't in his arms, I stepped back—instinctive, desperate for space, for air, for something solid.

His eyes flashed with hurt.

He didn't say anything, but the emotion was there, raw and unguarded.

"Emilia..." he said softly. "I'm sorry."

I didn't respond.

My heart was pounding too loudly. My hands were shaking. My thoughts felt like a storm I couldn't outrun.

He took a slow step toward me—careful, hesitant—like I was something skittish that might bolt if he moved too fast.

"I know I've caused you pain," he said.

Still, I didn't answer.

I didn't know how to.

"Please look at me." His voice was soft. Almost pleading. "Emilia."

I turned—slowly—until our eyes met again.

His chest rose sharply. The tension in his shoulders loosened, just a little, as if that simple act—me looking at him—meant more to him than he wanted me to know.

He stepped closer. Close enough that I could feel the heat of his body. Close enough that the familiar scent of him—cedar, pine, something dark and warm—wrapped around me like a pull I couldn't escape.

He took my hand gently and placed it against his chest.

Right over his heart.

My breath caught.

"Do you feel that?" he whispered.

His heartbeat thudded beneath my palm—strong, steady... but also trembling. Trembling because of me.

"You healed me, Emilia." His eyes didn't leave mine for a second. "I don't feel that uncontrollable urge to kill anymore." His breath shook. "For the first time in my life... I feel peace."

My lips parted.

I wanted to speak.

I wanted to demand answers.

I wanted to scream, cry, run, collapse—all at once.

But the moment I opened my mouth, instead of words, tears spilled down my cheeks.

Maximus stiffened. "Emilia?" His voice cracked. "Hey—hey, don't cry. What's wrong?" He reached out, cupping my face with both hands, his thumbs brushing the tears away desperately. "Please talk to me."

"I'm supposed to hate you," I choked out. "I'm supposed to hate you, Maximus... but I can't."

He looked wrecked.

Completely wrecked.

"Emilia..." he breathed, forehead lowering toward mine. "Goddess, please—tell me what's hurting you."

I lifted my eyes to his, my throat tight, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might tear itself open.

"I found out," I whispered.

His brows furrowed. "Found out what?"

I swallowed, shaking, tears dripping onto his hands.

"That you killed my parents."

Maximus went completely still.

The color drained from his face.

"What... are you talking about?"