Kissed By The Curse

The bucket of cold water hit the floor before I did.

My knees cracked against the tile; it was hard to keep from making a sound. Crying out would only make it worse. It always made it worse.

"Clean it up." Vanessa's voice dripped with satisfaction. She stood above me, arms crossed, looking every bit the high-ranking she-wolf she was. Beautiful. Powerful. Everything I wasn't. "And when you're done with this hall, the kitchens need scrubbing. The Alpha King arrives tomorrow, and I won't have this place looking like the pigsty in which you live."

I kept my eyes down. Didn't respond. Learned that lesson years ago.

She waited, hoping I would give her a reason. When I didn't, she scoffed and walked away with her heels clicking against the floor.

I stayed on my knees until the sound faded completely.

Only then did I let out the breath I had been holding.

Twenty years. Twenty years of this. Born under a blood moon, cursed from the moment I took my first breath, and reminded of it every single day since. The pack didn't just hate me-they pitied me. And somehow, that was worse.

I grabbed the rag from the bucket and started mopping up the spilled water. My hands were red and raw from scrubbing all morning, but I didn't stop. Couldn't stop. If I didn't finish before nightfall, Elder Rowan would give me that look again-the one that said he was disappointed but not surprised.

The one that said I was exactly what everyone expected me to be.

Weak. Broken. Useless.

My wolf stirred somewhere deep inside, barely a whisper. She had been quiet for so long I almost forgot she existed. Most wolves shifted for the first time by sixteen. I was twenty, and mine still hadn't shown herself. Another mark against me. Another reason for the pack to look right through me.

I wrung out the rag and moved down the hall, scrubbing in silence.

The Blackwood estate was massive, old stone with high ceilings, built back when our bloodline actually meant something. Now it was just a reminder of everything we had lost. My father died before I was born. My mother when I was ten. After that, it was just me and the weight of a name no one respected anymore.

I didn't even live in the main house. I had a room in the servants' quarters, smaller than a closet, with a cot that creaked every time I rolled over and a window that didn't close all the way, but it was mine. The only space in this whole place that was mine.

I finished the hall and moved to the kitchens. The work was endless. Scrub the floors, wash the dishes, haul the trash, and serve the meals. I did it all without complaint because what choice did I have? I had no money, no family, and no future outside this pack. And every time I thought about running, about disappearing into the world beyond Burrowtown, my wolf would whimper and pull back.

She knew the truth even if I didn't want to admit it.

We would never survive out there alone.

By the time I finished, the sun had set. My back ached, my hands were cold, and my stomach felt less than empty. I hadn't eaten since yesterday. There was food left over from dinner, but it wasn't for me. I had learned that the hard way too.

I slipped out the back door and made my way across the courtyard toward the servants' quarters. The night air was cold through my thin shirt, but I didn't care. At least out here, no one was watching. No one was waiting for me to mess up so they could remind me how worthless I was.

"Quinn."

I stopped.

Elder Rowan stood near the garden gate, his face shadowed by the moonlight. He was old, older than anyone else in the pack, with silver hair and eyes that had seen too much. He had been kind to me once, when I was younger. But kindness didn't mean much when it came with silence.

"You should get some rest," he said quietly. "Tomorrow will be... significant."

I frowned. "The Alpha King's visit?"

He nodded, but there was something in his expression I couldn't read. Something heavy.

"Why?" I asked. "What does it matter to me?"

He looked at me for a long moment, and I swore I saw something like regret flicker across his face.

"Just rest, child," he said finally, and turned away before I could ask anything else.

I watched him go, unease curling in my chest.

The Alpha King. Jasper Hale. I had heard the stories. Ruthless. Powerful. Feared by every pack in the region. He was coming here to meet with our council, something about alliances and territory disputes. Politics I didn't understand and didn't care about.

People like him didn't notice people like me.

I shook my head and kept walking.

My room was freezing when I got there. I shut the door, pulled off my wet shirt, and collapsed onto the cot. Every muscle screamed in protest, but I didn't have the energy to care. Sleep pulled at me, heavy and insistent.

But just before I drifted off, my wolf stirred again.

This time, she didn't whimper.

She growled.

Low and deep, like a warning.

I sat up, heart pounding, staring into the darkness.

"What is it?" I whispered.

She didn't answer.

But somewhere in the distance, I heard it.

A howl.

Long, haunting, and achingly familiar even though I had never heard it before.

My chest tightened. My wolf pushed forward, restless and anxious and awake in a way she had never been.

And then it hit me.

A pull. Sharp and undeniable, dragging me toward something I couldn't see.

Toward someone.

I pressed a hand to my chest, gasping.

No. No, this couldn't be happening.

Not to me. Not now.

But my wolf knew. She knew before I did.

Mate.

The word echoed in my mind, foreign and terrifying.

And tomorrow, he would be here.

The Alpha King. Jasper Hale.

My mate.