The Alpha’s cursed mate

Chapter 13: The Void Between Us

The world was dark.

Lyra’s eyes opened to suffocating blackness, the kind that seemed to press against her eyelids even when they were wide open. The air was damp, heavy with a strange earthy musk that stung her nose and made her throat tighten. She coughed, the sound echoing weakly against unseen walls, and only then did she realize her hands were bound. Her wrists ached against rough ropes, and her ankles were locked tight to the chair beneath her.

Her heart thundered.

She tried to call out, but her voice came out hoarse, swallowed by the shadows. That was when she smelled it again — faint, pungent, cloying. A plant. She didn’t know its name, but its presence seemed wrong, unnatural. The scent wasn’t just unpleasant; it dulled her senses, muffled something deep inside her.

Her wolf.

It was like her connection had been buried alive.

And then, with a sinking dread, she understood: goesmin.

She had overheard one of the guards whisper about it once in the palace kitchens. A plant so rare and dangerous that even seasoned wolves avoided it. Goesmin could choke the spirit of a wolf, suppress its scent, silence its bond. If she was surrounded by it, then Kael — her Alpha — wouldn’t be able to find her.

A sob clawed its way up her throat, but she bit it down. She couldn’t break. Not now.

Somewhere in the dark, footsteps echoed.

A voice slithered from the shadows. “Awake, finally.”

She jerked her head toward the sound, but the speaker remained hidden. A torch hissed to life, spilling a faint orange glow into the chamber. It revealed a tall figure cloaked in black, his face half-hidden by a mask. His eyes gleamed with cruel delight.

“Pretty little mate of the King,” he said. “You’re even lovelier than they said.”

Lyra stiffened. “Where am I? What do you want from me?”

The man chuckled. “What we all want. What the King himself will never admit.”

He stepped closer, torchlight illuminating the jagged scar that stretched across his jaw. He circled her like a predator, the scent of goesmin clinging to his cloak.

“Your blood,” he whispered. “A gift from the gods. Healing. Creation. Power.”

Her breath hitched as he trailed a finger down her arm. “And with you at his side, the cursed Alpha would rise as the True Alpha. Stronger than any living creature. Stronger than us. That cannot be allowed.”

Lyra’s pulse roared in her ears. “Kael… will come for me.”

The man smirked. “He won’t find you. Not with the plants. Not with the silence we’ve wrapped around you.”

And then, without hesitation, he drew a blade and sliced across her arm. Lyra cried out as blood welled to the surface, dripping down her skin. The man caught it with a vial, watching as it shimmered unnaturally under the torchlight.

“Magnificent,” he breathed. “Already healing.”

Lyra’s skin did knit together — slowly, painfully — leaving no scar behind.

The man’s grin widened. “Yes. You’ll be very useful to us.”

Far away, Kael’s body jolted upright.

He had been pacing the edge of the mountains, his chest bare and sweat-slicked, his wolf gnashing beneath his skin. He had tried to train, tried to silence the bond, but suddenly—

It was gone.

A void.

Where once Lyra’s presence had pulsed in the back of his mind like a heartbeat, there was nothing. No warmth. No faint tether. Nothing.

Kael’s roar shook the mountain walls.

“No.” His claws ripped from his hands, gouging the stone beneath him. His eyes burned molten gold, his wolf straining to take control. “No!”

The bond wasn’t broken — he knew that. She was alive. He could feel the faintest thread, but it was buried, suffocated, smothered by something he couldn’t pierce.

“Lyra…” he whispered, his voice breaking.

He stumbled forward, his Alpha aura lashing violently in all directions. Trees bent and cracked in the forest below as animals fled. His guards, sensing his unstable fury from miles away, trembled in their barracks.

Kael didn’t care.

He could not breathe without her. He could not think. His mate was gone.

And whoever had taken her would bleed for it.

Lyra’s screams echoed off the stone walls. The men surrounding her muttered as they scribbled notes, testing droplet after droplet of her blood. Some pressed herbs to her wounds, gasping when they healed faster than expected. Others whispered about the power she carried — the ability to create a True Alpha.

She clenched her teeth, refusing to give them more satisfaction.

“Stop fighting,” one hissed, slapping her across the face. “It’ll be easier.”

Lyra spat blood at his boots. “You’ll never win. He’ll kill you all.”

The man laughed bitterly. “Your King? He abandoned you once already. Why would he come back now?”

Her heart stuttered.

Why did he leave me?

She didn’t know. But she clung to his last words, the way his voice had rumbled with raw truth: Even if it kills me, I will love you.

It was the only thing keeping her sane.

Kael tore through the forest, his chest heaving, his eyes scanning every trail. He shifted into his wolf form, his enormous body thundering across the earth, but even then — nothing. No scent. No bond. Only silence.

He shifted back, snarling. “Damn it!”

Fenric, his most loyal guard, rushed to his side. “My King, what has happened?”

Kael’s jaw clenched. His hands shook as he forced the words out. “She’s gone.”

Fenric paled. “Gone? How—”

“I can’t feel her anymore.” Kael’s voice cracked with rage. “They’ve taken her. And I swear by the moon, I will tear apart this world stone by stone until I find her.”

—

In the dark chamber, Lyra’s body shook as another needle pierced her skin. The masked man leaned close, whispering.

“You will break, little mate. One way or another.”

But even as tears burned her cheeks, Lyra lifted her chin. “You don’t know him. Kael will never stop. He’ll find me.”

And somewhere, across forests and mountains, Kael’s wolf howled, a sound of such raw fury and grief that the world itself seemed to shudder.

I will find you.

No matter what it takes.

Lyra’s breaths came shallow now, her chest aching from the ropes that bit into her skin. Each inhale carried more of that pungent goesmin scent, clogging her lungs, pressing against her wolf like chains. Her inner beast clawed to surface, but the plants smothered it into silence, leaving her human and helpless.

The torchlight flickered, shadows dancing grotesquely against the stone walls. She could make out rows of shelves lined with jars, vials, and old leather-bound tomes. This wasn’t just a cell. It was a laboratory. A place where lives ended slowly, methodically.

One of the cloaked men leaned close, his mask pressed tight to his face. “The blood of the King’s mate,” he murmured like a prayer. “It has the essence of creation itself. With it, we can heal wounds no wolf has ever survived. With it, we can raise armies that never fall.”

Another man snorted. “Or sell it. Imagine the wealth.”

The first glared at him. “Fool. This isn’t about gold. It’s about balance. The King’s line cannot rise. If he completes the bond with her, every Alpha in the world will bow before him. We will not let one cursed wolf rule us all.”

Lyra’s voice was raw, but she forced it through her trembling lips. “You… you’re afraid.”

The room stilled.

“Afraid,” she whispered again, her eyes blazing through her tears. “That’s what this is. You talk about balance, about armies, but really… you’re terrified. Terrified of what he will become with me at his side.”

The scarred man’s hand cracked across her cheek, snapping her head to the side. Pain seared, but she didn’t give him the satisfaction of a cry.

He leaned in close, his voice venom. “Perhaps. But fear makes us strong. Fear makes us act. And fear will end you.”

They strapped her arms against the chair, metal cuffs digging into her bruised skin. Then the experiments grew worse.

Needles plunged into her veins. They drained vials of her blood, whispering as it shimmered unnaturally. They cut shallow lines across her skin, watching the wounds close almost as fast as they made them. When they poured poison into her cuts, her body burned, but still healed — slower, weaker, but healing nonetheless.

The scarred man chuckled, scribbling notes. “She bleeds life itself.”

Lyra clenched her teeth until her jaw ached. She wouldn’t scream again. She wouldn’t give them the pleasure.

But in the silence of her mind, she begged.

Kael… please.

—

Far across the forest, Kael fell to his knees in the mud.

He had run himself ragged, tearing through mountain paths, through rivers, through every border of his lands. His chest heaved, his body trembling with the strain of holding his wolf back. But nothing. No trace. No scent.

He slammed his fists into the earth, cracking the soil.

“LYRA!”

His roar echoed across valleys, scattering birds into the night sky. His power rippled outward, heavy and suffocating, forcing even distant guards to fall to their knees. His wolf thrashed inside him, demanding blood. Demanding her back.

Fenric appeared again, cautious, as if stepping too close to Kael in this state might get him ripped apart. “My King… you’ll kill yourself at this pace.”

Kael’s head snapped up, golden eyes blazing. “If she dies, I die. Do you understand?” His voice was broken, a growl wrapped in grief. “She is my mate. And I will not stop until she is back in my arms.”

His chest heaved, his hands clawing the ground. “Even if I must burn every pack to the ground.”

The guards exchanged nervous glances. They had never seen their King this undone, this feral. His curse had always made him distant, restrained, but now — stripped of her presence — he was a storm ready to consume everything.

And every second that passed without her only fanned the flames.

—

Lyra slumped against the chair, sweat dripping down her face, her lips pale. Her body ached in ways she didn’t think possible. She had lost track of time in the dark — hours, maybe days. She only knew pain, silence, and the suffocating choke of goesmin.

The scarred man entered again, carrying another vial. “Your body fascinates me,” he murmured, almost reverent. “Poison runs through your veins, yet you endure. Cuts and bruises vanish in minutes. You are a miracle… and a curse.”

He tilted his head. “Tell me, girl. Do you love him?”

Lyra’s breath caught.

“Your King,” he pressed. “Do you love him?”

Her heart pounded. Memories flashed — Kael’s golden eyes softening when he swore he would love her even if it killed him, the way his voice trembled when he called her mate.

“Yes,” she whispered hoarsely. “I do.”

The man smirked. “Then you will die for him. And he will watch his world burn.”

He plunged another needle into her arm. Lyra bit her lip until it bled, tears slipping silently down her face. But in her chest, the bond still throbbed faintly, a flicker through the void. Weak, smothered — but there.

And she clung to it with everything she had left.

Kael’s dreams turned into nightmares.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her — bound, bleeding, reaching for him. He saw shadows closing in around her, heard her scream his name. He would wake drenched in sweat, his claws embedded into stone, his wolf howling in agony.

His council begged him to rest, to think rationally.

But Kael had no rationality left.

“Search every border, every shadow, every whisper of rumor,” he commanded, his voice a dangerous growl. “If a soul breathes her name and keeps it from me, I will gut them alive.”

His wolf snarled agreement.

For the first time in centuries, even the bravest of his men feared him.

Back in the chamber, Lyra’s body sagged against the ropes. Her wrists were raw, her skin a patchwork of cuts and bruises. Her vision blurred, her head heavy. The scarred man returned, inspecting her like she was no more than livestock.

“She’s fading,” one of the cloaked figures said.

“Good,” the scarred man replied. “Let her weaken. When she breaks, he breaks.”

But Lyra’s lips curled into a faint, defiant smile.

“You… don’t know him,” she rasped.

The man leaned closer. “What did you say?”

She forced the words out, each syllable trembling. “Kael doesn’t break. He burns. And when he finds me—” her eyes locked with his, blazing despite her weakness, “—you will beg for death.”

The man’s expression hardened. He struck her again, but Lyra held onto her words, tasting blood, clinging to the bond.

Somewhere, far across the wilds, Kael froze mid-stride.

His heart pounded.

For the briefest second — a flicker, a spark — he felt her.

Pain. Weakness. But also… defiance.

His lips parted in a snarl.

“Hold on, Lyra,” he growled to the night sky. His claws ripped free again, his wolf rising in full force. “I’m coming for you.”