Chapter 4: The Curse
1234 Words
Rex POV
I stare at my reflection in the floor-length mirror.
Bare-chested. A towel wrapped low around my waist. Water still dripping from my hair after the morning bath.
The body staring back at me is perfect. Carved muscle. Broad shoulders. A face that could have been sculpted by the gods themselves—sharp cheekbones, strong jaw, cold blue eyes that have seen too much death.
I look like power incarnate. Like a king. Like something to be worshipped.
I hate it.
Because this body isn't mine. Not really. Not anymore.
I am twenty-seven years old.
Alpha King of the Blood Shadow Kingdom.
And I have been cursed for twelve years.
The memory comes without warning, sharp as broken glass. I'm fifteen again, hiding in the shadows of the throne room.
My parents loved their people. Gave them everything—protection, prosperity, peace. They ruled with justice and mercy. They trusted their inner circle.
They never saw the betrayal coming.
The rebels—men my father called brothers, warriors my mother fed at her own table—turned on them. Chained them to iron crosses in the center of the throne room. Demanded they hand me over.
"Give us the boy," the rebel leader said. "Give us your heir, and we'll let you live."
My father's voice was steady even as the flames were lit. "Never."
My mother's eyes found mine in the shadows. She mouthed one word: Run.
But I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Could only watch as the fire climbed higher.
They burned. My parents—strong, proud, beloved—burned alive rather than surrender me to traitors.
The rebels laughed as they screamed.
I press my hands over my ears. It doesn't help. Nothing helps.
The smell of burning fur. Burning flesh. The sound of their wolves dying.
Please. Someone. Anyone.
I pray to the Moon Goddess. Beg her for power. For strength. For the ability to make these monsters pay.
"Your prayer has been heard."
The voice comes from nowhere. From everywhere. A figure materializes from the shadows—wrapped in a black cloak, skeletal hands reaching toward me. I can't see her face. Only darkness where it should be.
"I can give you what you seek," she whispers. "The power to destroy your enemies. To avenge your blood."
"Yes." The word rips from my throat. "Anything. I'll do anything."
"There is a price." Her hand extends. In her palm sits something dark. Something alive. "I will remove your wolf spirit and replace it with an ancient dragon. With its power, no one will stand against you."
I don't hesitate. Don't ask what it means. Don't think about the consequences.
My parents are burning. That's all that matters.
"Do it."
The pain is instant. Blinding. Something tears free from my chest—my wolf, my soul—and is ripped away. Then comes the dragon. It pours into me like molten metal, searing through every vein, every nerve, every cell.
When I open my eyes, the world is different. Sharper. Darker. Hungrier.
I slaughter them all. The rebels. Their families. Anyone who stood by and watched my parents burn. The dragon gives me strength beyond measure. Speed. Power. Rage.
By dawn, the throne room is painted in blood.
I should feel victorious. Satisfied.
Instead, I feel the dragon coiling tighter around my soul. Whispering. Demanding.
More. More. MORE.
That was twelve years ago.
Since then, the dragon has only grown stronger. It takes control whenever it wants—transforming my body, overriding my mind, turning me into the monster the kingdom fears. I've tried everything to break free. To reclaim what I lost.
Nothing works.
My High Priestess, Istha, believes she has the answer. Every month, she sends three women to my chambers. Sacrifices. Offerings. She insists that if one of them bears my child, the curse will be lifted.
But none of them survive.
The dragon kills them. Always. In different ways—draining their life force until they're withered husks, tearing them apart with claws and teeth, or simply appearing in his full form and watching them die of sheer terror in my bed.
My bed has become a gateway to hell.
And yet—
Last night. That girl. The one with golden eyes and tangled brown curls. She looked directly at the dragon and didn't die. Didn't even faint.
She challenged it.
Who is she?
A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts.
"My King." Keanu's voice. Steady. Professional. "The new bride has arrived. She's waiting."
I turn from the mirror. Pull on a silk robe but leave it open. "Send her in."
The door opens. A woman enters—tall, curves poured into a dress so sheer it might as well not exist. Her breasts are barely contained. Her hips sway with calculated seduction.
She sees me and her eyes light up. "Oh," she breathes. "You're—"
The dragon surges forward.
My eyes burn. Red bleeds across my vision. My voice drops to a growl—inhuman, guttural.
"You have been chosen."
Her face pales. The seduction drains away, replaced by raw terror.
"Please—" She collapses to her knees. "Please, I don't want to—"
I'm on her before she can finish. Claws erupt from my fingers—long, black, sharp as blades. I grab her by the throat and squeeze.
She screams. Claws at my arm. Kicks uselessly.
I tear.
Blood sprays across the floor. The walls. My bare chest. Her body falls in pieces, twitching and leaking.
No. God, no. Not again.
The dragon recedes. Leaves me standing over the c*****e, drenched in another woman's blood.
I hate this. Hate myself. Hate the thing living inside me.
But I can't stop it.
"Send in the next one," I say flatly.
Keanu doesn't flinch. He's seen this too many times. He simply gestures, and servants rush in to drag away the body parts. Another woman is ushered through the door before the blood is even cleaned.
This one is different. Beautiful in a dangerous way—red lips, dark eyes, body wrapped in silk that clings to every curve. She looks at me and doesn't recoil. Doesn't beg.
Instead, she smiles.
"Well," she purrs, stepping closer. "Aren't you magnificent?"
Her hand trails down my chest. Lower. She sees my body responding despite everything and her smile widens.
"I knew I'd get lucky." Her fingers brush the edge of my towel. "A king. A real king. So handsome. So powerful."
She tugs the towel free. It falls to the floor.
Her eyes drop. Widen. "Oh my God." She actually laughs. "Look at that. I definitely won the lottery."
Her hand reaches for me. Wraps around—
The dragon roars.
My body changes. Not fully—not into the dragon's true form—but enough. My c**k twists, grows, takes on the dragon's nature. Scales. Ridges. Heat that burns like fire.
She sees it. Her hand jerks back.
"What—"
The terror hits her all at once. Her heart stops. Just stops. She's dead before her body hits the ground.
I stare down at her corpse. At my still-transformed body. At the blood that never seems to wash clean.
Keanu appears in the doorway. "Shall I send in the third—"
"No." The word comes out harsh. Final. "Enough. I'm done with this. I don't want to see another woman today."
- Writer
