The Alpha’s Forbidden Mate

EIGHT: THE CURSED BLOOD

[KIERAN POINT OF VIEW]

I opened my eyes to a soft glow streaming through the window.

My body ached, but the ache was nothing compared to the memory of the dagger and the forest.

Slowly, I pushed myself upright, testing my strength. I had survived.

Somehow, against all odds, I was alive.

Stepping out of the room where I had been sleeping.

Zelira was seated by the window, a book open in her lap, her eyes scanning the pages with focused intensity.

Cael sat on the sofa across from her, hunched over a plate of bread and cheese, shoving food into his mouth as if it were a life-or-death contest.

"Morning," I said, my voice still rough from exhaustion.

Cael looked up mid-bite, grinning. "Hey, man! Look who's awake!" He waved a piece of bread in my direction. "Feeling alive, I see!"

I nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips. "Morning, Cael. Morning, Zelira."

Zelira didn't look up, her eyes glued to the book. I waited, but she said nothing.

Cael chuckled, nudging my shoulder. "She's been reading since last night, probably memorizing the entire library. Don't take it personally—books tend to be more interesting than people sometimes."

"You're going to choke if you eat that fast," Zelira muttered without even glancing up.

"I'll survive," Cael said through a mouthful, smirking. "Unlike someone else who apparently wrestled death itself in the forest."

I let out a small, tired laugh, but my eyes drifted to Zelira. She didn't even look up.

Then, without warning, she screamed. Sharp, sudden, and piercing—the sound made me flinch, and Cael nearly dropped his food.

"What—what happened?!" Cael sputtered, eyes wide.

Her gaze hardened. The playful banter died instantly. "I know now... I know why you survived. I saw it... I finally understand. That's why it looked familiar—I've seen that sign before."

My heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?" I asked cautiously.

She didn't answer right away. Instead, she stood and walked toward me.

Her movements were precise, controlled, but urgent.

She reached into my pocket and pulled out the small pendant I had found in the cabin.

The moment she saw it, her eyes widened.

I could see the recognition in her expression, the flicker of something she had been chasing for a long time.

She held it up between us, voice low and tense, "This... this is why you lived. Whoever attacked you—the dagger—it should have killed you. But this... she saved you. Somehow, it protected you."

I stared at her, trying to process her words. "You mean... the pendant?" I asked quietly.

Cael's grin faltered, replaced by a rare seriousness. "Wait... that little thing? That kept him alive?"

Zelira didn't answer him. Her eyes were fixed on the pendant, but I could see it now— the sign in the pendant it's a faint stain of blood shimmering in the morning light.

Her voice broke the silence, barely more than a whisper, but it cut through the room with clarity, "You're alive because of her... It's because of her blood."

The words hung heavy in the air, echoing in my chest long after Zelira fell quiet. I stared at her, waiting for more, but she didn't look away out of guilt.

No—there was something else flickering in her expression. Sharp glint of surprise, almost amused, as though she'd stumbled upon a secret bigger than either of us had realized.

Her lips curved ever so slightly, not quite a smile but close enough to unsettle me.

The morning sun filtered through the tall windows, painting streaks of gold across the long wooden table between us.

The warmth of it felt wrong against the chill settling into my skin. Because of what Zelira said, I couldn't shake the gnawing feeling twisting in my gut—like there was a truth pressing against the surface, one she wasn't sure if she should reveal or keep for herself.

I leaned forward, my voice low, careful. "Her blood? What are you talking about, Zelira? You said she saved me... but this—this sounds like something more."

Her eyes flicked up, sharp and calculating, before darting away again.

For a moment, I swore I saw the corner of her mouth twitch, as though she knew more than she was willing to admit.

The silence stretched, louder than any answer she could have given.

Zelira sat across from me, her posture tense, a stack of papers and books fanned out in front of her.

Cael leaned back in his chair, elbows on the table, his grin only slightly restrained.

I couldn't keep my curiosity in check. "So... what did you find out?" I asked again trying to sound casual, though my eyes kept darting toward the pendant she still held.

Cael's grin widened. "Yeah, come on, Zel. Don't leave us hanging!"

Zelira's eyes flicked up from her notes, her expression unreadable. "It's... complicated. But it explains why you survived the dagger. Why the attack didn't finish you."

I leaned forward, heart thudding. "You mean... the pendant?"

She didn't answer immediately.

Instead, she carefully traced the edges of the small object with her fingers, as if trying to feel the story it carried. "No," she said finally, voice low. "The pendant itself has no magic—it's just a sign. A mark that its owner carries rare blood. The blood... the magic in it... it's extremely rare."

Cael whistled softly, leaning forward now, clearly impressed. "Rare blood? Magic? Okay... now it's starting to sound like a fantasy story."

I ignored him, my focus fixed on Zelira. "So... whoever saved me... she's the real owner?"

Zelira nodded slowly. "Yes. That sign on the pendant—it looked familiar because I'd seen it before, in old texts. But..." She paused, her brows drawing together. "I don't know exactly what it means. The records about it aren't complete. What I do know is this—it's forbidden knowledge, buried for a reason. The owner of this pendant... it proves that she's the one who saved you."

Then Cael's smirk faded slightly. His gaze drifted to the side, and for a moment he seemed far away. "I remembered something, when I was a kid..." he began slowly, "....my mother told me about a mission my father went on. She said he was with a pack—" he glanced at me briefly, "—with an alpha. Hunting... or maybe protecting, I'm not sure which. There was a human baby—born with blood so dangerous it could be used for dark magic. Her existence was a threat to every werewolf alive." His voice lowered. "Hearing this now... makes me wonder if the one we're talking about is the same one who saved you."

Zelira leaned forward slightly. "Did your mother ever say what they did to the baby?"

Cael shook his head. "No, of course not. Back then I was just a kid—I didn't care enough to ask. Guess I was too busy getting into trouble." His smirk returned, lighter now. "Why don't you ask Kieran? After all... his father was the alpha who led that mission."

The words hit harder than they should have.

One memory surfaced—one I hadn't thought about in years. I had overheard my father speaking to the Elders once, his voice low and certain: "The problem is gone." I'd never understood what he meant. But one thing I knew for certain now—he had lied to them.

Last night in the cabin—a folded handkerchief spotted with fresh blood... and a cool drink pressed into my hands afterward.

I remembered the strange metallic tang in the water, and beneath it, the distinct scent of human blood.

Hers. She must have cut herself—accidentally or not—and put her blood in the water I drank. That was how she saved me.

I swallowed hard, a mix of awe and unease tightening in my chest. "The girl who saved me... she's special. Even if she's just a human."

Zelira's gaze sharpened. "That also means she's in danger. Remember what you said before—that the killer who attacked you copied your appearance? That's not a werewolf gift. No one in our kind can do that without black magic. Which means he's deep in the dark side, and if we could figure out the truth about her blood this quickly... then I'm certain he already knows it. He'll be wondering why you're still breathing—and he'll know the answer lies with her."

Cael leaned back, folding his arms. "That means she's not just carrying rare blood—it's cursed blood." His words made me think harder about it. "Well, that makes your life easier, Kieran. You don't have to hunt the killer—just find the girl. He'll come for her. You can bet on it, and when he does..." He added. Then his grin returned, wolfish. "...you'll catch the killer."

The weight of his words sank deep. It wasn't just about finding her for answers anymore.

If she fell into the wrong hands, it wouldn't just be my life at stake—it could doom every werewolf alive.

I met Zelira's eyes, then Cael's. "We need to find her as soon as possible—before the killer does. Not just to protect her... but also to save our kind."

The girl who saved me—the one with rare blood.

Blood that, for werewolves, was not a gift but a curse.

They would hunt her for it. Fear her for it.

But I had to find her first.