Chapter 4 The Cursed Bloodline

Kael bled in his sleep.

Not from battle wounds or rituals-but from the inside, where the curse made its home.

He awoke choking on air, his sheets tangled in sweat, blood dripping from his nose. For a moment, the room twisted-walls breathing, shadows crawling.

Then the pain receded, like a wave drawing back before another crash.

He rolled out of bed and staggered to the mirror.

His eyes flickered gold... then black... then void.

He punched the glass.

It shattered. Blood bloomed across his knuckles.

He didn't heal.

That was new.

He leaned over the basin, breathing hard. The Moonblood had bought him seven days of clarity. But now it was day three.

And his body was already screaming again.

⸻

Across the ridge, Seren stood barefoot in the Moonkeeper's Sanctuary, deep beneath the roots of the mountain. Candles floated in midair, dancing to a breeze that didn't exist.

Before her stood a stone altar carved with ancient sigils.

Her mother's name was etched in its center: Priestess Sera Vale.

The last of the Moonblood.

Until her.

Seren lit a silver flame from the candle at her fingertips and placed it at the altar's base.

"She died refusing to bless an unworthy Alpha," she whispered. "And now I'm expected to save one."

Behind her, a voice stirred.

"You're not just expected," Rowan said. "You're destined."

Seren didn't turn. "Destiny is a leash."

"No," he murmured, "destiny is a door. One only you can choose to open."

She finally turned, her face unreadable. "Tell me the truth, Rowan. No riddles. No illusions. What really happened the night my mother died?"

Rowan's jaw tensed.

Seren stepped closer. "You owe me."

The High Seer exhaled slowly. "Very well."

He waved a hand. A ripple of magic shimmered in the air. The sanctuary dimmed, and an image began to form-an astral vision projected by the spirit realm.

⸻

In the vision:

A younger Sera Vale stood in the old temple, arms outstretched, magic coiling around her in threads of silver. Before her knelt Kael's father-Alpha Rhogan Blackthorn-madness frothing at the edges of his eyes.

He begged her. Demanded her blessing.

She refused.

"The goddess Lira forbids a forced bond," Sera said. "I will not give you what you try to take."

He struck her.

Magic shattered.

Blood hit the altar.

Sera fell.

And from her dying breath, a whisper:

"The next Moonblood will rewrite you all."

⸻

The vision ended.

Seren stood frozen, jaw clenched, a tear slipping down her cheek.

"Why show me now?" she asked.

"Because your mark is more than power," Rowan said. "It is prophecy. And prophecy is patient... until it's not."

⸻

That night, the moon hung like a blade over the mountains.

Kael stood alone in the courtyard where elders once trained him. The stones still bore the grooves of wolf claws and bloodshed. He ran a hand down the scar on his chest-earned during a trial his father had once called mercy.

He heard her footsteps before he saw her.

"You've seen it," Seren said, stepping into the moonlight.

He turned. "The curse? Every night."

"No. The vision. Of my mother."

Kael nodded once, jaw tight.

"I didn't know it was that brutal," he admitted.

"Of course you didn't," she replied. "The Blackthorn line is built on secrets. But I'm done being your silence."

Kael stepped closer. "What do you want from me?"

Seren's eyes narrowed. "I want your bloodline to remember that leadership without humility is just tyranny."

She drew a small dagger and slashed a line across the back of her arm.

Kael reached for her. "What are you-?"

She dipped her finger in the blood and painted a sigil onto the courtyard stones.

The Moonblood symbol for unraveling.

"This is your legacy," she said. "Tied to the goddess you betrayed and the woman your father silenced."

Kael stared down at the mark.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" he asked.

"Bleed for it," Seren said. "Or let it bleed you dry."

She turned and walked away.

He didn't follow.

Not yet.

⸻

Later that night, Kael found himself pacing the war room alone.

The map table lay before him-markings of allies, enemies, rogue dens, Council spies.

And now... a prophecy.

A curse.

The weight of it all made his spine ache.

He poured himself a drink. The whiskey burned going down.

Behind him, a growl echoed.

Kael spun-fangs out, claws half-shifted.

No one.

Just shadows curling like smoke.

He stepped back, and the map table caught flame.

Not from the drink.

From within him.

The magic he couldn't control anymore.

He cursed and swept the fire away with his power, but it was no use.

Every day, it grew.

Not stronger.

Hungrier.

⸻

Seren couldn't sleep.

The Mark of the Moon on her shoulder pulsed like it had a heartbeat of its own.

She stepped outside the sanctuary and wandered into the grove-where trees whispered like old women and the air always felt like stormlight.

There, beneath the sacred tree, she whispered:

"Lira, if you're listening, I don't want to be your vessel. I just want to survive."

No answer.

Just silence.

But then, a crack of thunder rolled in the distance.

And the mark on her skin glowed silver-blue.

"Shit," she breathed.

She wasn't alone.

Not in the grove.

Not in the world.

And definitely not in fate.

⸻

By dawn, Kael's blood had blackened beneath his nails.

The curse was spreading.

He couldn't afford to hide it anymore.

He called a meeting with the inner circle.

Thorne. Aria. Vex. Even Rowan.

But not Seren.

She wasn't part of his pack.

Yet.

"Someone speak," Kael growled, slamming his palm down on the table. "Before I burn this room down."

Thorne leaned forward. "We need to sever the curse at the source."

"And what the hell is the source?" Kael demanded.

Rowan met his gaze.

"You."

Kael froze.

"The curse didn't come from the Moonblood," Rowan continued. "It came from your father's betrayal. From the forced bond. From what he stole."

Kael's throat tightened.

"And now?" he whispered.

"Now," Rowan said grimly, "you'll either finish what he started... or undo it."

Kael turned away. "I already rejected her. That's supposed to break the bond."

Rowan shook his head. "No. You rejected the surface. The bond didn't snap. It went dormant. Deep magic always finds a way back."

"Then what do I do?"

A pause.

"Let her choose," Rowan said. "Not as a mate. As a goddess in waiting."

⸻

That night, Seren sat beneath the tree again, waiting for nothing and everything.

Kael appeared-bloody knuckles, dark eyes, lips tight.

"I don't deserve your forgiveness," he said.

"You don't," Seren agreed.

"But I think," he added, voice raw, "you deserve to choose whether I burn or not."

She didn't answer.

Instead, she lifted her hand-and flames danced in her palm.

Silver.

Blue.

And red.

Kael stared.

"Where did the red come from?" he asked quietly.

Seren met his gaze, voice low.

"From you."

⸻

And somewhere in the dark...

Lucien Redfang watched through scrying glass, eyes glowing.

"She's awakening," he whispered. "And soon... so will the gods."

He smiled.

The bloodline would bleed again.

Only this time, it would feed something far worse.

⸻

🔥 Authors note :

A cursed Alpha losing control. A Moonblood heiress rewriting prophecy. And a god-hungry villain lurking in the shadows. This bloodline isn't just cursed-it's sacred. And it's about to go up in flames.