Darian's POV
The twisting pain came again, sharper and tighter than it had ever been.
But it wasn't supposed to happen tonight. It wasn't supposed to happen until the full moon each month.
Until... Until... My gaze drifted slowly back to her.
My eyes locked into her again—Selara, her petite frame, as she froze in place, watching as I clutched my chest with both hands.
My heart twisted violently, like invisible blades were tearing it apart from the inside. And with the force of realization slamming up my gut, it tripled.
I staggered back on legs growing too heavy to support me, but my eyes remained on her, even while the curse ate me alive from within, and my face contorted like a squeezed mat.
Could it really be her? The attack flared in me again, right after I looked into her eyes. But it shouldn't be.
I had tried to look past every detail about her earlier, since she belonged to another man. But now, every bit of her femininity barreled into me all at once, every single detail.
Her sharp, perceptive green eyes, her long golden blond hair falling over her shoulder in soft wavy curls, now dirtied by her time in the dungeon. Her build, though athletic, was wrought to make a male's loins bleed, curvy, petite, and breathtaking.
If it were her, I would beat my chest with pride. But I couldn't let it happen now. Not when I haven't broken the curse.
I clutched my chest tighter, as millions of blades twisted into my heart. So hard, like I was being torn to shreds from the inside.
I fought the scream, clamping down on it in my throat, and it burned like it was on fire. The mass of pain-induced screams gathered in my chest, growing into an impossible weight that grew heavier and heavier by the moment.
My cheeks bulged so hard, my whole head ached. I couldn't let my potential female or any female find me weak. Never. I fought, and fought. But eventually, the force in my chest overpowered me. I blared out a scream so loud, my whole head rang.
Damn that witch? I cursed.
My claws sharpened, tightening in the air, strangling space as if it were her old, miserable, and fragile neck.
Once I finally got my hands on her, she would wish she had never been born. She'd regret the day she put the hex on me.
Rynel ran fast to grab me before I could hit the floor.
"It's happening again." He screamed. "It's happening. Get the doctor." He blared.
Instantly, all the guards dashed out of the throne hall, running madly to fetch the pack's doctor. The chaos of footsteps made the ground vibrate beneath me.
I grunted through my fight against the agony that had become a friend for years, and yet, it always tears me apart each time, with more pain than I could ever adjust to, no matter how I tried.
No one was supposed to see this, perhaps Rynel and the doctor who already knows. But not the guards, not the pack, and certainly not her.
She could have escaped. The throne room was empty now. The chain binding her had been freed around her feet.
But she just stood there, biting down on her lip, her green eyes trained on me.
I saw the fight in them, the same struggle that clenched her jaw tight, and fired streaks of veins to her neck.
She moved a step, then another, her bare dirty feet dragging over the marble thighs.
Eventually, she hissed out a grunt, grinding her teeth, and she came forward.
No! I screamed, but nothing came out of my lips but a low, painful squeal. I lifted my hand desperately from my clutched chest, and I beat the air repeatedly for her to stay back.
Yet, she kept coming. She shouldn't. If she was truly her...as the Witch predicted, then this was wrong. I would be damning her with the curse.
"No! Stay back," I screamed again, but my words just didn't leave my head.
She went down on her knees beside me. She looked to Rynel, grudgingly, as if hating that she wanted to do what she wanted to. "Turn him on his back."
Rynel grunted, a heavy snarl tightening his features as it did his voice. "Get back, woman, and go wait until we get the time to discuss your fate."
"Turn him on his back," she repeated, as if she hadn't heard him.
His lips parted for another curse, but something about the determination burning in her green orbs stopped him. He hesitated. His eyes flickered between her and me, distrust burning in them.
"No! Don't." I yelled, but pain had claimed control of my throat. It gripped it so tight, no matter what I did, I just couldn't get anything through other than low, breathy squeals.
"Do it!" she snapped, sharper this time. The resolve in her eye spread to her voice—firm, commanding, and urgent. Rynel struggled with a bit of hesitation before he eventually obeyed.
Stop this bastard. She shouldn't come near me. I grunted in my head. She shouldn't.
But my body rolled onto the cold marble floor. The movement sent another brutal wave of agony through my chest. My vision blurred instantly, black spots bursting across my sight like dying stars. My mind blanked out entirely of thoughts, and I just watched.
Selara leaned over me. Her brows were drawn tight in concentration as she pressed a hand against the center of my chest.
"His heart is spasming," she muttered.
Rynel stared at her. "How do you—"
"I've seen this before," she cut him off quickly. "Many times, actually, because I am a doctor," her voice spiced with spite.
She moved with urgency, her fingers firm and steady. "Hold your Alpha's shoulders down," she directed to Rynel.
He obeyed again without arguing.
Selara shifted closer. Her fingers pressed firmly against my sternum.
"Alpha Darian," she said through clenched teeth. "Listen to me."
My hearing swam, but her voice cut through the fog, and it dissipated with calm and care, spreading a bit of succor through me.
"Breathe slowly," she guided softly, and I followed through, like a kid under her command.
Another stab of pain tore through my chest. My body jerked violently beneath her hands.
Selara didn't panic. Instead, she pushed harder against my chest, massaging the muscle around my heart in steady, controlled pressure.
"One… two… breathe." Her voice was calm, commanding, and strangely steady as before.
My wolf stirred restlessly inside me, pushing up to rear for some strange reason.
Something about her scent was becoming stronger, enveloping me, wild, warm, and dangerous, an uneven blend of jasmine and sweat. And it seemed to call my wolf to fore, it clawed through the fog of pain desperately to plant itself firmly in my consciousness.
Selara leaned closer, trying to hear my breathing. Her blond curls slipped forward over her shoulder.
Her hand shifted, and her palm pressed directly against my heart.
The effect was instant. The crushing pain that had been tearing my chest apart suddenly faltered. My breath stilled for that moment in my chest. It took a brutal pause that spasmed me against the floor.
Selara kept on with her treatment, but soon, she froze too, and pulled back. Her eyes widened as if she had felt it.
For a brief second, neither of us moved. We just stared at each other, feeling that invisible thread pulling us together.
I knew it the instant the attack happened. She was my mate. The next very person I have been searching for for years now, alongside the bloody witch.
My wolf surged forward violently inside my mind.
A deep growl rolled through my chest. The word burst through my soul like thunder, alongside the mass of air gathered in my chest.
"Mate." I breathed. "My mate. Mine."
Selara gasped sharply. Her hand jerked away from my chest as if she had been burned. "No…" she whispered, face contorting with mortification.
But that isn't enough to change fate. The bond ignited wildly now, burning as fiercely as the curse had. I felt it as much as I felt blood in my veins and life in my soul.
Her scent flooded my senses, the blend of jasmine and sweat sharper than before. I could almost taste them.
Every instinct in my body roared to life. My wolf howled inside me with savage triumph. Mine.
Selara rose to her feet and stumbled back a step, staring at me in horror.
"What… what was that?"
I knew exactly what it was.
And that realization terrified me more than the curse ever had.
Damn hell! I ground my teeth so hard that my jaw ached. Why did I have to find her under these circumstances? This wasn't how I had planned for everything to happen. Definitely not like this.
I jumped to my feet, and I reached for her waist, ridding her fast for the wall.
I had barely got through when a sharp wail of pain poured from her. She jumped back from me immediately, as if I'd just burned her.
She clutched her waist, face contracted in pain, eyes pinned accusingly on me.
I wanted to reach for her again, but the disdain and pain in her expression held me back.
"What did you just do to me? Why was your touch so painful?" She yelled through teeth clenched from pain.
I stared down at my palm, almost like I had never seen it before, almost like it wasn't a part of me.
The witch's words echoed in my mind once again. Cold, and unforgiving, and breathy as my sword drove into her stomach, and she gargled on her own blood.
"You will find your mate, Darian. But you will never touch her. Nor will you get the chance to love her. For your love will become the very poison that kills her."
I lifted my head back at Selara, and a pain much stronger than the curse, than any I have ever felt, split through my heart again. I haven't just found my mate. I have damned her.