Chapter 43 The Curse
Aurelia
My legs still wobbled with every step down the dim corridor to the holding cells.
Zhayad had fucked me so thoroughly that each movement sent fresh echoes of pleasure-pain radiating through my core.
But the real tremor in my knees? That came from knowing Mace waited below.
The same Mace who'd groped me years ago, who'd left bruises and shame, who'd walked free because my father said I should've let him have what he wanted.
Back in headquarters, when I said I recognized Mace, I left out the part that mattered most:
I’d been friends with his younger sister, Lila.
We’d shared everything, from secrets to snacks and stupid dreams, until I turned thirteen and my body started changing faster than anyone else’s.
My curves appeared where the other girls were still flat and angular. My thighs thickened, my hips widened, and my breasts grew heavy overnight.
Lila’s envy turned sharp, she even joined others in taunting me, whispering “cow” and “fat witch” behind my back.
And then she did the one thing I never forgave:
She told Mace my biggest secret. The one thing I’d begged her never to repeat.
Lance was already waiting at the end of the dark passage, a tablet glowing in his hands like a cold little moon.
He looked up as we approached, his face tight. His eyes flicked between Zhayad and me before settling on the Alpha.
“He’s stubborn,” Lance said in a clipped voice. “He’s one hell of a strong warlock. Enduring all the torture without a fuss. He also refuses to confess his motive for taking Irina.”
“That is, if she was taken,” I blurted before I could stop myself.
Zhayad grunted, a low, noncommittal sound, but didn’t contradict me.
Lance’s gaze slid to me, dismissing me with one glance, then back to Zhayad.
“He’s aggressive. Should we open his cell?”
Zhayad didn’t hesitate. “Open.”
Lance swiped the tablet, and a heavy lock clunked.
The iron door groaned inward, releasing a rush of damp, sour air, blood, sweat, rust, and something faintly electric, like burned magic.
The cell was small, lit by one flickering torch.
Mace hung in chains, his wrists above his head, shirt shredded, bruises blooming purple and black across his ribs and jaw.
His blonde hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. But his eyes, those same sharp blue eyes were still mocking, still alive, still looking at me like I was something he could break if he tried hard enough.
He lifted his head slowly, and a bloody smile split his lip.
“Well,” Mace rasped, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, “look who finally came to visit. The Alpha and his hybrid warlock.”
There, he'd said it.
Lance sucked in a sharp breath. “Repeat that.”
Mace’s bloody smile widened. “I don’t repeat myself, dog. You all should’ve known better than to let her into your arms.”
I felt the floor tilt under me. My knees wobbled so hard I had to lock them to stay upright.
Yes. I was a hybrid warlock. An outcast from birth.
The truth I’d carried like a wound my whole life was now bleeding out in a damp cell for everyone to see.
My mother never lasted long. She was driven away by my father, chased out like she was poison.
But before she left, she told me everything. I was half human, half warlock, everywhere and nowhere.
Werewolves despised ordinary humans, and warlocks hunted them for sport.
My mother was full warlock, but I’d inherited the cursed gene from some long-dead ancestor who’d dared to love outside the bloodline.
As for my father, he thought marrying me off to Mace would bury the secret forever. A quiet match, a safe cage.
So I ran. I didn’t want to become his weapon of mass destruction. Unlike other places, hybrid warlocks were rumored to be more powerful than the full warlocks. It was a puzzle that irritated others to no end. It was one of the reasons Lola ditched me.
Zhayad’s breath ghosted hot against the back of my neck. I hadn’t even realized he’d moved so close.
“You’re a hybrid?”
His voice was low, rough, almost reverent, like he was tasting the word for the first time.
But underneath it was something darker. Something possessive, something dangerous.
I could only nod, my heart beating wildly in my chest.
The cell went deathly quiet. Even Mace’s smirk faltered for a heartbeat.
Even Mace’s smirk faltered for a heartbeat, his bloody lips twitching like he suddenly realized he’d said too much.
“The court will reject her as soon as they learn this,” Lance broke the silence, his voice low and edged with something close to satisfaction.
Zhayad’s head snapped toward him. “I did not ask for your opinion, Lance.”
“My apologies, Alpha.”
Lance dipped his chin, but his eyes flicked to me. They were quick, cold, and measuring.
Zhayad turned back to me.His gaze felt heavier now, like he was seeing me for the first time all over again.
“You kept the truth from me,” he said disappointedly.“What am I supposed to do with you?”
My throat tightened.
I opened my mouth, but Mace beat me to it.
“Now that you three are here,” he said, his voice hoarse but steady, “my confession begins.
Cassian Varkis craves the Onyx Fang. Legend says the Alpha must give it willingly for it to be as effective as when the Alpha is wearing it.”
As if Zhayad would ever hand over the source of his pack's power. This explained my father's crazy lust for the fang.
Lance muttered under his breath, “No wonder he’s been rallying for war.”
Mace’s eyes slid to me, holding my gsze. “This cunt here was supposed to be his ticket, but Irina—”
Lance’s fist shot out, crashing into Mace’s nose with a wet crunch.
Blood sprayed, and Mace’s head snapped back against the wall.
I knew immediately why he’d done it.
It looked like he was defending my honor, punishing the vulgar word Mace spat at me.
But I saw the truth in the way Lance’s shoulders tensed, the way his eyes darted to Zhayad then back to Mace.
He didn’t want Mace to finish that sentence.
He didn’t want Irina’s name tied to whatever this betrayal really was.
Lance knew plenty about what really happened, and he was protecting Irina by holding back the information.
“She is being haunted by a curse, in case no one bothered to finish their history textbooks. A curse placed on the warlock by the werewolf shifter who bore the mark of the moon goddess first and ruined all she had going by falling for a warlock. Legend says he betrayed her, and so she placed a curse of barrenness upon him.” Mace recited this with relish, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction at having ruined me.
Again, you might wonder why I missed this part. I'd buried it in the deepest parts of my mind for so long that I hardly ever thought about it.
“What?” Lance's outburst told me all I needed to know. I was in hot soup.
“Your father wants you back so he can reverse the curse.” Mace continued, undeterred by the acid glare Zhayad was shooting his way.
Wait, I didn't know this bit. My father wanted to reverse the curse? No wonder he needed the onyx fang.