The Fated Cused

Chapter3

Cain had to exert every ounce of his iron will to clamp down on the transformation, forcing it back before it could fully take hold.

There was simply no space within the cramped walls of the Howling Wolf for a beast of his magnitude; were he to let the wolf loose, his massive form would shatter the wooden beams and crush the heavy ale vats beneath his paws before anyone could even draw a breath.

Even so, the Beast was now fully alert and raging within his blood, a state of being that was almost unheard of during the daylight hours. And every fiber of that wild consciousness was fixed entirely upon the small figure standing before him, staring up with eyes wide as saucers.

The priestess seemed to sense the dangerous shift in the atmosphere as well, for she instinctively took a stumbling step backward, her fingers flying instinctively to her lips, which were now swollen and reddened from the force of his kiss.

A sudden, sharp pang of guilt pierced through Cain’s feral haze. Leandro would never have approved of such roughness, he thought bitterly. The man who had raised him had taught him that honor demanded respect and protection for all women, regardless of their rank or background.

Leandro had loved his own wife deeply, and even though she had passed away the year before he had found Cain, the old warrior had never truly recovered from the loss, carrying that grief and that devotion as an example for his student to follow.

“What… what did you do that for?” she whispered, her voice coming out in short, shaky gasps, completely robbed of its earlier steadiness, her eyes searching his face with a mixture of fear and wonder.

“Because I needed to see the truth,” he growled back, though his own senses were warring with confusion. “I needed to prove to you that you are not ready for what you ask… even though every instinct in your body seems to be screaming otherwise.”

It was that very contradiction that troubled him most. The reaction of his other half was unprecedented; the Beast was usually utterly indifferent, cold and distant to every female Cain had ever touched.

He could spend hours in the arms of a lover and the creature would not even stir from its endless sleep. But this girl, this holy woman, had sparked an immediate, burning interest. Why her? What was it about her that called to the wildness inside him? He did not know, and right now, he was too irritated to care.

“Go now, while you still can,” he commanded firmly, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “You do not understand the fire you are playing with. And surely you know the price? Once a man claims you, the magic changes you. Those deep emerald eyes will shift forever. What will you say when your Sisters look at you and see that you are no longer a virgin?”

Her lower lip began to quiver violently, betraying the fear she had tried so hard to hide behind her defiance.

“I… I know,” she stammered, her voice barely audible, thick with unshed tears. “If the color of my hair changes even slightly, I will be cast out without mercy. I will lose my place within the Temple of the Moon, and everything I have ever known, everything I am, will be turned to ash and gone.”

Cain looked at her, his expression one of pure exasperation and disbelief, his brows drawing together in a heavy frown.

“Then you must understand how mad this sounds,” he demanded, his voice rough with frustration. “Why would you stand here, risking your very soul and your future, begging me to take that purity from you?”

“I don’t want this!” The admission tore from her throat like a cry of deep pain, and her face crumpled completely. Hot tears began to spill freely down her cheeks, tracing shiny paths through the dust and freckles on her skin.

“Believe me, I do not want it at all! But I have no choice… I am forced to ask you. It is… it is the only key that can unlock the chains. It is the only way to… to break the curse!”

Cain stood frozen for a long moment, staring at her with a mixture of shock and utter bewilderment. What in the name of all that was holy was he supposed to do now?

She had sought him out with such desperate determination, begging him to take her body, and now she stood there sobbing as though her very heart was being ripped apart.

He could feel the heavy weight of stares from every corner of the room. The other men were watching them with deep suspicion and curiosity, and who could blame them?

It was not every day that a consecrated Priestess of the Moon Goddess walked through the doors of The Howling Wolf, propositioned a stranger in plain sight, and then dissolved into tears before his very eyes.

Deep within the recesses of his soul, he felt the Wolf stir once again. The beast rarely communicated through actual words, preferring to speak in raw emotions and instincts, but right now those feelings were loud and clear.

There was an intense, burning fascination with the small woman beside him, but also something softer—a profound concern and a genuine, aching sympathy for her pain.

He had to admit, despite his better judgment, her tears moved him as well.

He knew he ought to keep his distance; he knew he should not allow himself to be drawn into whatever dark web of trouble she was entangled in, especially not after she had mentioned something as dangerous as a curse.

Yet his resolve was crumbling. Leandro had always told him that for all his rough, intimidating exterior, he possessed a heart that was far too soft, and it seemed his old mentor had known him better than he knew himself.

“Enough of that now,” he said gruffly, his voice softening despite himself. “Come here. Enough tears.”