THE CURSED ONE

THE CURSED ONE
Ares's point of view
I didn’t plan on asking. I hadn’t meant to care.

But the words clawed out of me before I could stop them.

“If my father was the strongest of his kind… then why did he die?”

Arabella didn’t flinch. She held my gaze with a silence so heavy it seemed to echo through the throne room.

“Because some betrayals,” she said slowly, “are worse than death itself. Especially when they come from someone you trust.”

I felt a chill creep into my spine.

She walked a few steps toward me, her voice steady but laced with sorrow. “Caspian left Tristan here for you—knowing that if anything ever happened to him, someone would remain who could guide you, protect you. He trusted his cousin, Veyron, to serve as his second-in-command while he ruled Valic. Veyron... was supposed to be loyal.”

My jaw clenched. “But he wasn’t.”

Arabella’s eyes darkened. “He wasn’t. He used Caspian’s trust to build secret alliances, to create a rebellion behind his back. He wanted the throne of Valic for himself. And when the time came, he struck.”

A pause.

“Aeris saw it happen. She saw Veyron kill Caspian with her own eyes.”

The words landed like a dagger to my gut.

“She ran,” Arabella continued, “to save your life. You were only a child, barely shifting. She hid you, moved you through places no one could track. But she never returned to Mistefell—not out of cowardice, but because she feared Veyron would follow. She feared she would bring ruin here too.”

I said nothing. The storm inside me had no words.

Arabella looked at me carefully. “When she discovered that you carried your father’s bloodline… and worse, that you were struggling to control it—she used her magic to bind your lycan spirit. She made sure Veyron would never sense you. That you would remain hidden.”

A bitter laugh escaped me.

“So she cursed me, made me invisible, and still… left?” I snapped. “Abandoned me like I was some failed weapon?”

Arabella’s lips pressed together. I could see it—her own conflict rising, but she didn’t retreat from it.

“She left,” she said firmly, “because she went in search of the last surviving lycan who might help you. Someone ancient. Dangerous. She couldn’t take you with her—because she didn’t know whether that lycan would become your savior… or drag her straight to Veyron.”

A cold knot formed in my chest.

Arabella’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “Veyron had bad intentions for your mother. And Aeris would have rather died than let him take her… or you.”

I lowered my eyes. Everything she was saying made sense. Too much sense.

And yet—my heart didn’t know what to do with it.

All this time, I hated her for leaving me. I thought she’d chosen a kingdom, a crown, a name—over me. Now I was being told she had chosen to run to protect me. To hide me from a monster I hadn’t even known existed.

Aunt or not, Arabella’s words shredded me from the inside.

I didn’t want to believe her. Believing her meant letting go of my hatred. And that hatred… it had been my armor.

“I don’t know what to do with this,” I said finally, voice low, breath unsteady.

Arabella stepped closer. “You don’t have to decide now. But know this, Ares—being your aunt is not just blood to me. It’s duty. I will protect you. That’s why Tristan is training you. Because Veyron stole something from you—your father, your legacy, your peace. And now… you get the chance to take it back.”

I swallowed the ache burning behind my ribs. My hands shook at my sides.

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” I whispered.

Arabella nodded. “None of us did. But we carry it anyway.”

I stared past her, out the tall glass windows that overlooked Mistefell’s mountains.

Veyron.

I had a name now for the shadow that haunted my blood. I had a purpose—unwanted, but mine.

And maybe… just maybe… I would train.

Not because they told me to.

But because the beast inside me was no longer a stranger.

It was my birthright.

And soon, it would be his curse.