His Cursed Mate

Chapter Four – The Beast Beneath the Skin

The thing in front of her was not Lucien.

It had his eyes somehow still silver beneath the glow but his body was monstrous. Seven feet tall, shoulders broad as a bear’s, claws like obsidian blades. Glowing runes pulsed beneath his darkened skin, each one etched in ancient language. His jaw cracked open in a snarl, revealing fangs longer than her fingers.

But he didn’t attack.

He looked afraid.

“Lucien,” Ember whispered, stepping closer, “it’s me. You know me.”

He backed away.

“No!” she said, louder now. “Don’t you dare run from me!”

The beast’s chest rose and fell. Trembling.

Then his form flickered. A blinding flash of silver light, and he collapsed to his knees, shifting violently back. Bones cracked, muscle shrank, skin pulled tight over his frame.

And then Lucien. Naked, shaking, panting. Human again.

Ember ran to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing her forehead to his.

“I’m here,” she whispered. “You’re okay.”

He didn’t answer. His hands gripped her sides tightly, like he was afraid she might disappear.

Minutes passed before he spoke.

“I’ve never shifted into that form before,” he said hoarsely.

“What was it?”

Lucien’s voice was low, ragged. “It’s the beast. The one cursed into my bloodline generations ago. It was sealed away… until you.”

Ember’s heart stuttered. “Until me?”

“The prophecy says when the Lunarborn mate awakens, the cursed Alpha will too. The beast only rises when his true mate’s power stirs.” He pulled away slightly to look her in the eyes. “You’re waking me up, Ember. And I don’t know if I can control it.”

Ember was quiet for a long time. Then she said, “I think… I think something’s waking up in me too.”

Later that night, Ember couldn’t sleep. She lay on the couch while Lucien dozed nearby, Marisol mixing herbs in the kitchen and pretending not to eavesdrop.

The mark on Ember’s shoulder, it had begun to glow again. Not just faintly now. Bright. Sharp. It pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat.

She stepped outside and walked into the clearing behind the house. The forest was a different kind of dark one that saw her, breathed with her.

The moon above her was full and bright.

Her breath hitched as warmth spread across her skin. Her limbs tingled. Her vision sharpened. She could hear everything, the owls in the trees, the rustling of deer far off, the low thrum of the earth itself.

And the wind whispered one word, over and over.

“Luna…”

She staggered, overwhelmed.

Then her body arched like something inside her was trying to break free. Her spine burned. Her legs buckled. And in the grass, alone, she screamed.

Lucien burst through the door shirtless, sensing her panic. His eyes widened when he saw her glowing with pale light, hair whipping around her face, mark, blazing like fire.

He ran to her, scooping her into his arms.

“Your power,” he whispered. “You’re shifting.”

“I…..I don’t want to shift!” she gasped.

“You’re not turning into a wolf,” he said, voice thick with awe. “You’re becoming what you were born to be.”

Her body convulsed once, then twice and then the light vanished. Just like that.

Ember collapsed into his arms, unconscious.

She woke in her bedroom, sweating, tangled in her sheets. A fire roared in the hearth. Moonlight poured in through the open window.

Lucien sat at the foot of her bed, elbows on his knees, watching her with unreadable eyes.

“What… happened?” she whispered.

“You touched the edge of your magic,” he said. “You’ll feel it again soon. Stronger next time.”

Her throat was dry. “I saw something… before I passed out. A woman. In white.”

Lucien’s jaw tightened. “The Moon Goddess.”

Ember blinked. “She’s real?”

“She’s the one who created our kind. The one who cursed mine. And the one who gave your bloodline power to heal or destroy every wolf that walks this earth.”

A pause.

Lucien looked away. “You’re her descendant, Ember. The last of her chosen bloodline.”

Ember’s breath caught.

“That’s why the Shadowfangs want me.”

Lucien nodded. “They want to use you to bring down the barrier between man and beast. They believe if they possess the Lunarborn mate, they can become gods.”

“Will they come back?”

Lucien stood slowly, walking toward the window.

“They never left.”

A low howl pierced the night, right outside the house.

Lucien froze.

Ember ran to the window.

Dozens of glowing eyes stared at them from the trees.

But it wasn’t just the Shadowfangs this time.

One figure stepped forward, a man wrapped in black furs, his eyes like burning coals.

Lucien’s face went pale.

“That’s not just a rogue,” he said quietly. “That’s their king.”

And the king smiled straight at Ember.

then… one figure stepped forward.

He wasn’t hunched. He wasn’t snarling.

He smiled.

A tall man, cloaked in black furs, with skin pale as bone and hair as dark as midnight. The pack behind him fell eerily silent. Even the forest seemed to lean back.

Lucien’s jaw clenched. His claws extended with a sickening crack.

“That’s not just a rogue,” he said slowly. “That’s their king.”

Ember swallowed hard. “The Shadowfang Alpha?”

Lucien’s voice was hollow. “No. Worse. That’s Malrik. The exiled heir of the Bloodborne Pact.”

She turned to him. “What does he want?”

Lucien’s silver eyes never left the trees.

“You.”

The moment the word left his mouth, a pulse rippled through Ember’s mark.

Burning.

Alive.

And outside, Malrik tilted his head toward her

Like he already knew what she was becoming.