Chosen By The Cursed Alpha King Chapter 47

Lucien's boots struck the marble floor hard as he rushed forward, the sound ricocheting against the walls like a warning drum. I bared my teeth in a snarl, the beast clawing at my throat, heat still roaring through me. My claws slashed at the air, a guttural growl vibrating low in my chest. I didn't want him near. I didn't want anyone near.

"Stay back," I snarled, though the words trembled, distorted by the animal in me.

But Lucien ignored it. He always ignored the danger I posed, as if loyalty had carved the fear out of his bones long ago. His hand gripped my arm, steady and firm, despite the way my claws could shred through flesh and bone in a blink.

"You're burning up," he muttered, straining as he lifted me to my feet. I fought him, even as my body buckled. The beast thrashed inside, roaring to break free, to rip, to destroy. And yet—Lucien dragged me across the room, lowering me onto the black leather couch.

My chest heaved, every breath sawing out of me like blades. My vision blurred and sharpened again, pupils expanding and contracting with the violent rhythm of my pulse.

"Lucien," I hissed, every syllable guttural. "Don't—"

"Save your strength," he cut in, kneeling beside me. His sharp features were drawn tight, his voice low and edged with urgency. His eyes—those steady, dark eyes—were locked on mine, refusing to flinch. "The Blood Moon isn't supposed to appear for another four months. Not until the end of winter."

The words fell heavy between us. My claws dug deep into the leather of the couch, tearing it open with an ugly rip. My jaw clenched, every muscle trembling with the fight to stay tethered to myself.

"I don't know why it's coming now," Lucien continued, his voice tightening, "but it's real. I can feel it in you. The pull. The fire. It's the Moon."

I shut my eyes, pressing my palms hard against my knees, as though I could cage the beast inside by sheer will. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

The Blood Moon.

I hated it. The cursed night when my beast rose beyond my command, when reason fled, when the line between man and monster vanished. I was king, Alpha of Alphas, but under the Blood Moon I was nothing but a feral demon unleashed. The last time I'd been left unchained—

A flash of memory seared across my mind. Blood on snow. Screams. A hundred voices crying out, breaking, shattering. The fire. My claws dripping with crimson. The faces of those I had once sworn to protect, twisted in terror. And then—silence. Silence so sharp it still haunted me.

That massacre had carved itself into me, an unhealing wound.

Never again.

"Should I bring her?" Lucien's voice broke through the storm.

My eyes snapped open, blazing, and I let out a humorless scoff, a sound jagged and bitter. "No."

Lucien's brows knit, but I cut him off before he could argue.

"No one sees me like this." My voice was a rasp, low and dangerous. "Not her. Especially not her."

He studied me, and I saw the question burning in his gaze, but he swallowed it. Lucien knew better than to press.

The beast inside me roared, clawing at the cage of my ribs. My body arched, a violent tremor ripping through me. I ground my teeth until I tasted blood, every nerve sparking like lightning. For one terrifying heartbeat, I thought I'd lose myself entirely.

And then—silence.

As sudden as the storm had come, it broke, leaving me gasping, breath sawing ragged through my lungs. My skin burned, slick with sweat, every muscle trembling from the battle I hadn't won—only delayed.

Lucien's gaze was unwavering, though I could see the worry etched in the hard line of his jaw.

"The full moon might be out tonight," he said quietly. "Or the night after. Which means—"

"I'll be chained," I finished for him, my voice flat, bitter. "Tonight. Until after the red fades. Sometimes the Blood Moon lasts three nights."

The words tasted like ash on my tongue. To be chained like a beast—because I was one.

Lucien hesitated, then asked the question I had dreaded. "Do you think Emilia could calm you? She was the only one able to...that night."

My chest clenched. I thought of her—her voice, soft but steady, the way her touch had reached me when no one else could. The way she had stood before me despite my snarls, and I had stilled.

But this was different.

"This is the Blood Moon, Lucien," I growled, my voice shaking with the weight of it. "I don't even recognize myself then. Not you, not her, not anyone. Anything that comes near me dies." I lifted my gaze, eyes burning, feral. "She won't be able to calm me. No one can."

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Lucien looked away first, his throat working as though to swallow words he dared not say.

At last, I spoke, the weight of command steadying my voice. "Doctor Charles. See to his burial tomorrow. I won't be able to attend."

Lucien's head snapped back toward me. Surprise flickered across his face before it hardened again into obedience. He rose to his feet, his posture crisp despite the shadow in his eyes.

"I'll go prepare the Black Room," he said.

I nodded once, a sharp motion, though my chest felt like stone.

As he turned to leave, I forced the words past my teeth. "I'll spend the day with Emilia. Tonight, I'll be in the Black Room before the Moon rises."

Lucien paused at the door, his back stiff, then gave a single nod. "Yes, my king."

The door closed behind him, sealing me once more in silence.

I leaned back against the couch, my body aching, my breaths still uneven. My eyes shut, but that only brought the memories sharper, harsher.

That Blood Moon.

The night no one dared speak of.

The night I had been unchained.

The fire had devoured the trees, flames crackling against the snow. Screams had echoed through the clearing, raw and desperate. My claws had torn through flesh, through bone, through every oath I had ever sworn. I had felt every life snap beneath me. And worst of all—

I remembered it.

Every moment.

Every scream.

Every drop of blood.

When dawn had broken, I had woken naked in the ash, surrounded by ruin. And the silence had been absolute.

My people had not spoken of it since. They did not need to. The memory lived in their eyes, in the way they looked at me with reverence and terror entwined.

I pressed my hands against my face, claws digging into my skin.

I hated the Blood Moon.

Because it made me what I truly was.

Not a king. Not a savior.

A monster.

A monster with no hope for redemption.

And this time...The thought splintered, unfinished, as my chest constricted with something dangerously close to dread.

This time might be worse.