Claimed By Alpha Ceaser Cursed To Be His

Ava's POV 

The Hunter's whisper hung in the cold night air like a curse and a prayer. It paralyzed the remaining guards with a terror far deeper than the fear of Caeser. 

They didn't dare touch me, even as Caeser, still weak and shocked, began to fight for control of the situation.

But the moment was fleeting. The silver glow on my hand faded back to normal, leaving behind only the searing heat of the crescent mark. 

The lead Hunter, regaining a sliver of his courage, quickly barked orders.

"Forget the Alpha! Seize the female! She is far too dangerous to live!"

We were immediately overwhelmed. Caeser fought like a maddened beast, even without his full power, but he was mad exhausted and severely outnumbered. 

They used silver-laced nets and thick iron chains. In minutes, we were both shackled, the cold, heavy iron biting into our wrists and necks.

They didn't lead us back on horseback. They dragged us, forcing us to walk through the Ironwood, back toward the palace. They kept us separated, Caeser pulled by two guards ahead of me, his massive frame hunched under the weight of the chains, his silver eyes dark with impotent rage.

"Ava! Don't fight the chains! Don't struggle!" he called back, his voice ragged. "Keep your head down!"

The trek was brutal. Every scraping step, every metallic clank of the chains, pulled me deeper into a spiraling tunnel of fear and defiance. 

The Moon, now rising high and full, was a blinding, perfect orb of white in the black sky, casting long, stark shadows.

And it was calling to me.

Not a voice, but a gravitational pull that started in my bones and radiated outward. It was an urge to shed my human skin, to rip free of the clothes and the chains and the fear, and to run, truly run.

I struggled, dragging my feet in the dirt. "I won't go back to that cage!" I gasped, pulling uselessly at the rough iron around my neck.

Caeser twisted his body around, ignoring the cruel jerk of his own chain. His face was a mask of panic. "Stop, Ava! I'm begging you! That feeling-it's the bond, magnified by the full moon! It's the curse! If you fight it, if you force a transformation, the poison will consume you!"

His words, intended to save me, only fueled the fire in my chest. He feared the curse more than death. 

He feared it claiming me. And I suddenly saw a terrible, brilliant logic. If the curse was meant to kill me, what if the very thing it demanded-the bond-was the only thing that could stop it? 

I had defied the Moon Court, I had deflected a spear; maybe I could defy the curse, too.

I won't go back. 

I ignored his pleas. I ignored the guards' mocking shouts. I closed my eyes and focused only on the light of the full moon burning through my eyelids. I allowed the pull to take me, welcoming the wild, untamed energy rushing through my veins.

It started with a dizzying nausea. Then, the agony.

My spine arched, my neck snapping backward with a force I couldn't control. A shriek was ripped from my throat, but it sounded strange, half-human, half-snarl. 

The pain wasn't just bone-deep; it was soul-deep. My body felt like it was simultaneously melting and freezing, contracting and expanding.

The guards around me yelled, scrambling back, but I barely registered them. My skin felt like it was tearing, my teeth elongating into needle-sharp points. I could hear the horrifying snap and reform of my skeletal structure, every joint relocating, every muscle fiber tearing apart and reknitting with impossible speed.

The iron shackles were suddenly too tight, too small. With a loud, echoing CRACK, the heavy iron links burst, shearing metal as if it were soft clay.

I fell to my hands and knees, covered in sweat and blood, shaking uncontrollably. But the pain was fading, replaced by an intoxicating, pure power.

When I lifted my head, it was no longer Ava the scullery girl.

A silver wolf, smaller and leaner than the massive Alpha guards, but radiating an inner light, stepped out of the discarded rags of my servant clothes and the shattered chains. 

My fur was the color of the moonlight, luminous and unblemished. My eyes were the first thing I noticed-they were no longer brown, but a brilliant, startling gold.

The forest went silent.

The guards, the elite Hunters trained to face anything, dropped their weapons. Not in surrender, but in a profound, primal shock. 

They were looking at a living impossibility. A slave had shifted.

My wolf looked at them. The fear in their eyes tasted sharp and satisfying. I let out a low, challenging growl-the first pure sound of my inner beast-and the three remaining guards immediately fell to their knees, their bodies trembling in submission.

I turned my head. My golden eyes locked onto the one other being in the world who was still upright and still breathing: Caeser Varyn.

He stood frozen, his shackles intact, his silver eyes wide with astonishment, fixed entirely on me.

But then, the astonishment vanished, replaced by a devastating surge of power and terror. 

The dull silver in his eyes didn't just brighten; they flared, erupting into a shocking, brilliant gold, a color identical to my own. It was a color I had never seen on him before.

The golden light surged, radiating from his core, causing the heavy iron chains around his wrists and neck to smoke and sizzle. 

His blood was boiling.

He looked at my wolf form, the golden light of our joined eyes connecting across the clearing. His voice was strained and hoarse. 

"The curse..." he said, panting, his voice laced with awe and pure, unadulterated terror.

"...you just broke the first seal."