THE CURSED LUNA'S THRONE

Untitled Episode

The muffled screams echoing from the dark depths of the dungeon drifted up and faded against the silver-bound ramparts of the castle. Eric’s desperate wailing from his cell was not enough to fill the cold, dark void that had accumulated within me for three years. Yet those first steps taken in the throne room were not merely the herald of a personal vendetta; they signaled a colossal storm that would shake the realm to its very foundations.

My son, Leo, slept soundly amidst silk sheets in the most secure section of Kaelen’s fortress—the east wing, guarded by elite silver guards. That little boy, possessing Vance’s blood and a piece of my soul, was not yet aware of the monsters governing the world. But Kaelen… From the very first moment that monster laid eyes on Leo, he claimed him as if he were his own flesh and blood. Perhaps protecting a piece of the soul belonging to the woman who quelled the curse in his mind was the ultimate gratification for his predatory instincts.

Three days later, I stood on the castle’s expansive terrace, watching the blood-red sun rise beyond the Mist Mountains. The heavy, emerald-green velvet dress I wore and the silver fox fur draped over my shoulders had now become inseparable elements of my identity.

The approaching footsteps behind me were virtually silent, yet that familiar tingling on my skin whispered that Kaelen had arrived. His towering frame aligned behind me, his chest coming close enough to brush my back. As his warm breath burned against the nape of my neck, his large hands encircled my waist like wild ivy.

"Deep in dark thoughts, my predatory Queen," Kaelen said. His voice was smooth and dangerous, echoing like thunder from the depths of a canyon.

"I am listening to the whines of those who kneel before me," I replied, tilting my head slightly back to meet his golden, tempestuous eyes. "Vance is at the clinic door. He has been on his knees for two days, waiting for a single drop of antidote to heal. His pack is fractured; his standing, completely shattered."

Kaelen curled his fingers around my chin, turning my face toward his. He slowly pressed his thumb against my lower lip, a murderous passion gleaming in his eyes.

"I knew you wouldn't allow a man who inflicted such agony upon you to die so easily," he growled. "I enjoy watching him crawl. However, Vance’s pack is massing troops along the border. Capitalizing on the vacuum of authority he left behind, they have mobilized their galleons. They want war."

A cold, ruthless smile formed on my lips. I placed my hand over Kaelen's on my waist.

"War?" I asked, my voice laced with exquisite darkness. "The day they sacrificed me, they already lost that war. They just don't realize it yet. I will give Vance the antidote... But not enough to fully heal him. A dose that will keep him on his feet, yet rob him of half his strength."

Kaelen chuckled softly at the devilish brilliance of the idea, the vibration of his chest sending waves across my skin. Turning me around in a single fluid motion, he pulled me flush against his chest and buried his lips into mine with a passion so intense it stole my breath away. There was no gentleness in this kiss—only possessiveness, a scorching desire, and the dark bond forged between us.

"You truly are a tailored curse meant just for me," he whispered between my lips. "Even if the entire realm were drowned in blood, I would s*******r them all without blinking just to keep you on that throne."

When I descended to the stone courtyard in front of the clinic that afternoon, the sight before me was precisely as I had envisioned. Vance, once the most arrogant and powerful Alpha in the realm, knelt on the rain-soaked, freezing stones. The venomous wound on his chest had turned a sickly purple, its dark veins climbing up his neck like a black web.

Beside him stood his new fiancée, blinded by an obsession for power—the "fragile" Princess Celestia, the very woman for whom I had been cast aside. Celestia’s silk gowns were smeared with mud, and the haughty demeanor in her eyes had dissolved into a profound plea.

When they noticed my approach, Vance attempted to lift his head, his eyes bloodshot.

"Zehra..." Vance raspingly whispered. "Please... The realm... needs your healing."

"Does the realm need it, or do you, Vance?" I asked, standing before him. The hem of my heavy, silver-embroidered cloak did not even touch the muddy ground.

Celestia tried to surge forward, but the silver spears of Kaelen's guards were instantly leveled at her throat.

"Give him a chance!" the Princess shrieked, her tears washing away any remaining pride. "He is an Alpha! He cannot perish beneath the feet of a wolfless runt!"

I slowly turned my gaze to Celestia. The icy wave in my eyes was enough to choke the remaining words in her throat.

"That woman you call a 'wolfless runt' currently holds your Alpha’s life between her fingers, Princess," I said, measuring every word. "And back when you were so eager to crawl into my husband's bed, you never accounted for this moment."

I drew a small, dark crystal vial from my pocket. The silver liquid inside shimmered dangerously in the daylight. Vance's eyes widened with hope as he reached out a trembling hand.

"This antidote will not kill you," I said, holding the vial at his eye level. "It will keep you alive. But with every full moon, it will roar through your wolf’s body with unbearable agony. You will be strong enough to lead your pack, yet wretched enough to remain dependent on me. Every three months, you will kneel at the Palace gates for the next dose."

Vance’s face paled in sheer horror. This was a servitude far more brutal than a swift death. I had drawn the boundary that bound him to me for a lifetime, stripping away his absolute power.

"I accept... I accept..." Vance groaned, pressing his forehead against the muddy stones. "Just ease the pain..."

I tossed the vial onto the ground, right in front of him. As the crystal rolled across the stones, Vance lunged forward like a dog, snatched it, popped the stopper, and downed the liquid in a single gulp.

Watching his pathetic display, the fire of vengeance within me cooled for the first time, replaced by a sense of delicious, absolute dominion.

When I returned to the palace at midnight, Kaelen was waiting for me not in the throne room, but in his private chambers atop the highest tower. The borders of the kingdom were marked across a massive map, and the lantern light cast a reddish glow over the grand bed in the room.

As I entered, the heavy doors slammed shut behind me. Kaelen had stripped off his armor, wearing only a black linen shirt. When his gaze locked onto mine, the dangerous, predatory charge between us electrified the air.

"The punishment you dealt Vance..." he said, closing the distance with slow, deliberate steps. "...was fitting for a monster."

"I am merely playing the game according to the rules taught to me, Kaelen," I said, letting my fur cloak drop to the floor. "I am reminding those who tried to make me a victim that I am their Queen."

Kaelen seized my waist and lifted me onto the map table. As his heavy frame settled between my legs, his hands slid up the slit of my dress, gripping my thighs. His touch scorched my skin. As he buried his face into my neck, I heard the final whispers of that dark curse in his mind vanish, appeased by the scent of my blood.

"You are my Queen, my sole cure, my intoxicating cage," he whispered, his lips leaving deep impressions on my skin. "Even if the world outside unites to destroy us, I would set the entire realm ablaze just to share this throne with you."

I closed my eyes and surrendered to the relentless, dark passion encompassing me. I was no longer a fleeing female, nor was I a ghost. I was the Queen who governed the mind of an accursed King, brought her enemies to their knees, and wrote her own destiny in blood. And in this kingdom, the game would continue strictly by our rules.

Outside, a violent storm raged as Kaelen’s massive hands clamped around my waist like an iron seal against the map table. Lightning illuminated the high windows of the tower, and raindrops whipped against the stone walls like lashes. Yet the tempest inside the room was far more destructive, far more consuming.

As Kaelen trailed his lips along the curve of my jaw, his fingers unlaced the back of my dress one by one. Each stroke of his heavy, passionate breath against my skin melted the lingering, years-old frost within me. He was a cursed monster who made the entire realm tremble in fear; yet in my embrace, he was a King tamed by the scent of my blood, captive to his own desire.

"Look at me," he commanded in a husky growl.

Opening my eyes, I found a stormy sea and unbridled possessiveness burning in his golden gaze.

"The dark whispers in your mind..." I whispered, running my fingers through his coarse hair, graying slightly at the temples. "Are they still there?"

"They only whisper your name," Kaelen murmured, his voice merging with a low rumble deep within his chest. "There are no more bloody phantoms driving me mad. There is only you. And everything you give me..."

In a single fluid motion, he lifted me off the table into his arms and carried me toward the massive bed draped in silver and black velvet. Settling me onto the soft mattress, he covered my body with his own heavy frame. What unfolded that night beneath the shadow of the storm was not merely the joining of two bodies, but the interlocking of two shattered souls. His firm touch reminded me of my own strength, while my embrace extinguished the inferno raging in his mind.

Later that night, as Kaelen drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep beside me, I watched him by the flickering light of the silver candlestick. For the first time in years, he slept without the agonizing screams inside his head. His vulnerability proved once more how dangerous and irreversible our bond truly was. I was his sole cure; he was my absolute sanctuary.

By the next morning, a completely different atmosphere enveloped the fortress. As the sun rose, Kaelen and I descended to the expansive gardens in the East Wing, guarded by soaring ramparts. There stood little Leo.

My three-year-old son was playing with a wooden sword alongside one of the elite silver guards. When he noticed Kaelen stepping into the garden with his towering stride, he paused. Normally, any adult—even an Alpha—would recoil from Kaelen’s overwhelming aura. Yet Leo, filled with childlike bravery, raised his wooden sword toward the giant King.

"Halt, stranger!" Leo announced, his voice small yet fierce. "I am protecting my mother!"

A faint, proud smile—one no one had likely seen in years—touched Kaelen’s lips. He slowly dropped to his knees, bringing the feared King down to the eye level of a three-year-old child.

"Is that so?" Kaelen responded, his voice echoing with surprising gentleness. "So you are guarding the Queen. But a warrior must know how to properly grip his sword."

Reaching out his massive hand, Kaelen gently clasped Leo’s small fingers and adjusted his grip on the wooden hilt. This child, carrying Vance’s blood, was receiving the love and protection Vance had never offered—from the very monster who had driven his mother toward fate's edge. As Leo giggled and threw his arms around Kaelen’s neck, the final knot inside me unraveled. This man was not just my throne; he was my son’s shield.

Yet peace in this kingdom was always fleeting.

Around midday, an emergency session convened in the Council Hall. Nobles from across the realm, pack representatives, and elder councilors gathered around the massive round table. I sat upon my throne directly to Kaelen’s right, the coldness in my gaze enough to silence the room's hushed whispers.

Midway through the proceedings, the silver doors burst open. Guards dragged a bound woman forward and threw her to the floor.

It was Clara—the widow of Eric's brother, the very woman for whom my husband had turned me into a ghost in my own home.

Clara’s expensive silks were torn, her hair disheveled. She had been apprehended near a border village while attempting to flee following Eric’s imprisonment. As she was thrown forward, she lifted her head and locked eyes with me on the throne. The arrogant spark she once carried had dissolved into pure terror.

"Zehra..." Clara whimpered, her voice trembling. "Please... I was only trying to protect my child. Eric manipulated me!"

I rose from my throne with deliberate, measured steps. The rhythmic clicking of my heels against the stone floor was the only sound in the hall. I stood over her, leaning down close to her face.

"To protect your child, you destroyed my home, didn't you, Clara?" I said, the icy tone in my voice sending a chill through the bones of everyone present. "You reduced me to a shadow in my own house. You ate the finest food, took the best rooms, and watched my humiliation with delight."

"Forgive me..." she sobbed, pressing her hands together in desperate plea. "I will be your servant, just spare me!"

"Servitude is too generous for you," I stated coldly. "I will not kill you, Clara. Granting you death would be a reward."

Turning back, I caught Kaelen’s gaze. Sitting like a statue upon his throne, the King watched me, ready to sanction any judgment I declared.

"Banish her to the Mining Wastes between the realms," I ordered, turning toward the councilors. "She will spend the rest of her life scraping together the scraps of others—living the exact ghost of an existence she tried to force upon me."

As the guards dragged Clara away amidst her wails and tears, the horror etched across the councilors' faces was unmistakable. No one viewed me as a "wolfless" or weak female any longer. My mercy had run dry; I was a Queen dispensing justice through blood and iron.

Kaelen stepped down from his throne and approached me. Resting his massive hand on my waist, he drew me flush against his side. His sweeping gaze locked onto every noble in the room.

"My Luna’s word is my decree," Kaelen declared, his voice booming throughout the castle. "Whoever dares defy her shall perish in the darkest depths of the dungeons."

Every noble in the hall knelt in unison, bowing their heads in absolute submission.

As Kaelen’s possessive, passionate touch burned against my waist, I looked out through the high stained-glass windows of the castle. Vance writhed in agony at my clinic door, utterly dependent on my mercy; Eric withered away in the dungeons; Clara had been driven into exile; and all the powers of the realm were laid out at my feet.

This love may have been born of a dark curse, but I had forged that curse into my crown. And in this kingdom, no one would ever dare cross the boundaries I had drawn again.