Kaelan Blackthorn felt the curse wake before it fully did.
It began as a familiar burn coiling through his veins—slow at first, then tightening sharply in his chest until the pen slipped from his fingers and clattered against the desk.
Then the world tilted and his vision pulsed.
And for the first time in years, the chains inside him snapped taut.
"Not again," he muttered, pushing away from his desk and forcing a long breath through his nose.
But the curse didn't care for breathing techniques or discipline tonight.
The burn deepened into a violent throb.
His wolf snarled inside him, slamming against the walls of his control, restless and agitated, dangerous in a way Kaelan hadn't felt in years.
"Not here," he growled inwardly.
He reached for the small glass vial on his desk—the suppressant made from springwater taken from the Sacred Valley. His last line of defense.
He uncorked it and swallowed the bitter liquid in one breath but nothing happened.
The curse didn't even flinch.
A jolt tore through him so violently that he braced a hand on the desk to keep from collapsing. The tempered glass trembled beneath his tightening grip.
"Not now," he hissed.
He had mastered this curse for years. He had tamed it, controlled it, caged it through sheer discipline and restraint.
But tonight, it wasn't listening.
A sharp, unexpected pull yanked at the center of his chest.
It felt electric and unnatural like someone had hooked a chain directly into his heart and dragged.
Kaelan froze.
What the hell was that?
The curse had never moved like this before. It had never reached outward, never pulled him toward something beyond his own body.
Another pulse slammed into him, blinding silver cracking through his vision.
Then his wolf lunged with a guttural snarl—violent and possessive.
'Mine.'
The word hit him like a blade to the ribs.
Kaelan's breath caught, his throat tightening as he staggered back against the glass wall behind him.
"No," he whispered. "That's not possible."
But the curse disagreed.
A violent surge ripped through him, rattling the windows so hard the entire office vibrated. Papers slid from his desk. The overhead lights flickered, dimmed, then steadied.
His pulse thundered as pain dragged down his spine like claws.
The pull tightened again—insistent, sharp, demanding.
Someone had stepped into Blackthorn territory, someone the curse recognized, someone his wolf recognized.
His mate.
Kaelan slammed his fist into the private elevator button as his vision blurred at the edges. Control slipped through his fingers. The suppressant was useless, his composure cracking along with it.
He needed to reach the containment chamber before his wolf shattered free, before the curse swallowed the last piece of sanity he had left.
As the elevator doors slid shut, the pull clawed at him again, sharp enough to tear a sound from his throat.
His wolf growled once more—fierce, certain, primal.
'She is here.'
Kaelan pressed his shaking hands against the wall as the elevator dropped.
He didn't know who she was, where she was or how fate had crossed their paths.
But the truth slammed into him with terrifying clarity.
His mate had entered his territory and the curse he had spent his life caging had just broken free.
…..