Chosen By The Cursed Alpha King Chapter 133

MAXIMUS'S POV

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

Light swallowed the entire cave—white, silver, alive. It wasn't just bright. It was power, violent and ancient, thrashing through the air like a storm fighting to break free. I staggered back, my arm shielding my eyes as dust spun wildly around me.

The ropes binding Emilia snapped like thin threads.

The altar trembled.

And then—

Her body… lifted.

Slowly.

Weightlessly.

As if invisible hands were pulling her up toward the ceiling. Her back arched, her head tilted upward, and her hair lifted like it was floating underwater. The dagger was still in her chest, gleaming horribly in the light. But she didn't look dead anymore.

She didn't look alive, either.

My mouth fell open.

"Emilia?" I whispered, but the word vanished in the roaring wind tearing through the cave.

Her entire body was glowing. Not soft light. Not faint. No—this was overwhelming, blinding, holy. A white-gold brilliance poured out of her skin, out of her hair, out of the wound in her chest.

She didn't look like something from this world.

She looked like a goddess waking up after centuries of sleep.

And I—

I couldn't stand.

My knees hit the stone without me deciding to kneel. It was like something pushed me down—something bigger than instinct, bigger than fear.

Something sacred.

Something that told my wolf to bow.

Behind me, I heard Soraya gasp, then choke on her own breath.

"What—what is this—" she stuttered.

But I couldn't look at her.

My eyes were locked on Emilia.

The light wrapped around her like a storm of wings, swirling, rising, exploding outward. Then, piece by piece, the brightness dimmed… not disappearing, but settling—folding into her skin like it belonged there.

Her body descended slowly, gently, until her feet touched the stone floor.

And when she lifted her face toward me—

My heart stopped.

Because that wasn't Emilia's expression.

Not the softness.

Not the sweetness.

Not the fear.

This expression was older.

Colder.

Powerful enough to bend the world.

Her eyes glowed silver, brighter than any full moon. Her posture was perfect, still, regal. Her beauty was the same—but sharpened, heightened, almost painful to look at.

My breath caught as she reached toward the dagger.

"Wait—" I surged forward. "Don't—"

But she wrapped her fingers around the hilt and pulled it out in one clean, terrifying motion.

I felt my heart lurch.

Blood didn't pour out.

The wound closed instantly, sealing shut like it had never been there. Her skin glowed softly where the blade had been, leaving nothing but perfect flesh behind.

I stared.

My mind couldn't catch up.

"Emilia," I breathed. "What… what is happening to you?"

She turned her head toward me, slowly, like a queen acknowledging a kneeling soldier. Then—she smiled.

It wasn't her smile.

Not at all.

"My dear Maximus," she said gently, reaching out and touching my cheek. Her fingers were warm, calming—and somehow impossibly strong. "Please let me borrow the body of your beloved."

My blood turned cold.

Her voice…

It wasn't Emilia's.

It was deeper. Older. Echoing.

"I need to teach this traitor a lesson."

My eyes widened. My heart hammered against my ribs.

"Who… who are you?"

Her smile widened—beautiful and terrifying.

"I am what you would call the Beta," she said softly. "But long before such titles existed, I was the Beta to the Moon Goddess herself."

My breath caught.

She leaned slightly closer.

"My name is Milandra."

I couldn't move. I just stared at her.

My brain rejected it. But my wolf didn't.

My wolf bowed.

Milandra's expression softened, almost sympathetic—but only for a heartbeat.

Then she stepped past me, turning toward Soraya.

And all sympathy vanished.

Power rolled off her in waves, making the air heavy, making the stone under us tremble. The ground responded to her like it recognized her. Feared her.

Soraya backed up instantly, her face twisting in shock and hatred.

"No," she hissed. "No, no, no—you bitch. How did you come back? You weren't supposed to fully awaken."

Milandra laughed.

Not Emilia's laugh. Something sharp.

Something that made the hairs on my arms rise.

"Oh, Soraya," she said. "Are you scared?"

Soraya snarled, her voice cracking.

"You witch."

Milandra tilted her head, amused.

"I have never met someone as stupid as you."

Her eyes glowed brighter.

"Centuries ago, I thought you were simply young and foolish. I gave you another chance, believing you might return a better soul. That you would make amends with our kind."

Soraya's jaw clenched.

Milandra gestured around them—the destroyed altar, the blood, the chaos.

"But look at what you've caused. You changed fates. You triggered a war. You turned brothers into enemies. You tore destinies apart."

She shook her head slowly, disappointment radiating from her.

"Just look at the mess you made."

Soraya spat on the ground, fury twisting her face.

"You don't get to lecture me. You're nothing. Nothing compared to me. I was chosen to be immortal. I was blessed. The Moon Goddess made my soul indestructible."

Milandra hummed softly, like Soraya had told her a cute joke.

"You really think the one who gave you that immortal soul… cannot take it back?"

Soraya hesitated.

Her confidence cracked.

"Well," she snapped, "she's not here now."

Milandra smiled.

"But I am."

Soraya let out a wild, cracked laugh, full of madness and false bravado.

"You?" she scoffed. "You think you can destroy me? Oh, please. You aren't stronger than I am."

Black smoke erupted from Soraya's body, swirling around her like a storm, her eyes turning pitch black. Stones cracked beneath her feet. She screamed in fury as the dark power whipped around her.

Milandra didn't even blink.

She looked over her shoulder at me.

"I'll be careful with your beloved's body."

And then she turned back to Soraya—expression shifting from calm to murderous.

Before Soraya could react, Milandra flicked her hand—

And Soraya's body flew like she'd been hit by a mountain.

She slammed into the wall so hard the rock caved inward. A horrible crack echoed across the cave. Soraya shrieked as she hit the ground, rolling, coughing blood.

Milandra advanced slowly.

"You've done nothing but cause trouble," she said, her voice rising with each word.

"Trouble! Trouble! Trouble!"

Soraya crawled backward desperately, her eyes wide with terror.

"No—no, no—"

Milandra grabbed her, slamming her against the wall again. Soraya's scream ricocheted across the cave.

"It was my fault," Milandra hissed. "I should have destroyed you completely when I had the chance."

She slammed her again.

Soraya sobbed, blood pooling under her.

"But I had mercy," Milandra whispered. "And this is what you do?"

She lifted Soraya into the air without touching her.

Soraya clawed at her neck, gasping, choking. Her legs kicked uselessly. Her eyes bulged.

Blood dripped down her chin.

Still—she laughed.

Broken.

Defiant.

"You can't kill me," she rasped. "You can't. I'm immortal."

Milandra stepped closer.

"I have no plan of doing that."

The air grew heavier.

Cold.

Ancient.

Milandra raised her hand slowly—and Soraya screamed. A soul-deep, blood-curdling howl that shook the cave.

Milandra's fingers curled like she was pulling something invisible out of Soraya's chest.

Something dark.

Something rotten.

The black smoke around Soraya thickened, twisted, then funneled straight toward Milandra's hand. Soraya thrashed violently as the power ripped out of her, her veins turning black under her skin.

"NO!" she shrieked. "NO, NO, NO—STOP—STOP!"

But Milandra didn't stop.

She kept pulling.

Soraya's power drained out in waves, forming a swirling black sphere in Milandra's palm—thick, foul, screaming.

Soraya sobbed in agony.

Milandra looked down at the black sphere with pure disgust.

"Look how rotten you've become," she whispered. "So black. So stained."

Soraya shook her head wildly, tears and blood streaming down her face.

"No—please—please—don't—"

Milandra's expression hardened.

Then—

She crushed the sphere.

It shattered into dust.

The dark essence scattered into the air like ashes in the wind.

Soraya let out a scream—one that didn't sound angry or powerful anymore.

It sounded human.

Weak.

Terrified.

Milandra lowered her hand.

"Good luck getting back your essence," she said coldly. "Welcome to mortality."