Wolf Cursed

Chapter 2: Shadows of the Past

“You need to explain—now,” Ivy demanded, her blade still clutched tightly in her hand.

Killian raised his hands in a gesture of peace, but his eyes remained sharp, scanning her apartment as if expecting another attack. “You’re in danger, Ivy. More than you realize.”

She snorted, though her grip didn’t relax. “That shadowy thing just now? I think I’ve figured that out on my own.”

Killian stepped inside, uninvited but confident, and closed the door behind him. His movements were deliberate, almost predatory. Ivy’s instincts screamed at her to push him back, but curiosity rooted her to the spot.

“That was a wraith,” he explained. “A creature bound to dark magic. It’s been hunting me for weeks.”

“Weeks?” Ivy’s brows furrowed. “And you brought it here? To my home?”

“I didn’t bring it,” Killian countered, his tone clipped. “It follows power, and tonight, your tarot cards lit up like a beacon. I came here to warn you, but I didn’t expect it to attack so soon.”

Ivy’s eyes darted to the glowing Five of Pentacles. The card had been warning her, but now its urgency made her chest tighten. “Why me?” she pressed. “I’m just a private security specialist. I don’t dabble in—”

“Magic?” Killian interrupted, arching a brow. “That’s not what your cards say.”

Ivy bristled, stepping closer to the table as if shielding the cards from his gaze. “What do you want from me, Killian? Spill it, or get out.”

Killian’s expression softened, but his urgency remained. “I need your help. You have a gift for seeing things others can’t. My pack… my family is under a curse, and I think you might be the only one who can break it.”

Ivy blinked, caught off guard by the raw honesty in his voice. She’d dealt with desperate clients before, but this was different. There was weight behind his words, a gravity that made her stomach churn.

“A curse?” she repeated. “You’re telling me you’re… what? A werewolf?”

Killian’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “Sharp as ever. Yes, I’m the Alpha of the LeBlanc pack. And right now, that title feels more like a death sentence than an honor.”

The name LeBlanc rang a bell, but Ivy couldn’t place it. She crossed her arms, skepticism creeping into her voice. “And why exactly do you think I can help? I’m not a mage, Killian. I don’t even like dealing with your kind.”

Killian flinched at her tone but held her gaze. “Because the curse… it’s tied to something ancient. Something connected to those cards of yours.”

Minutes later, they were seated across from each other at her coffee table. Ivy shuffled the deck again, trying to steady her racing thoughts. Pixie, ever the curious observer, sat at her feet, watching Killian with wary eyes.

“Let’s start from the beginning,” Ivy said, her voice steadier now. “What happened to your pack?”

Killian exhaled slowly, leaning back in his chair. “About six months ago, we started noticing… changes. Pack members falling ill. Strange deaths. At first, we thought it was an external attack, maybe a rival pack trying to weaken us. But then the symptoms spread to everyone, including me.”

“Symptoms?” Ivy asked, her fingers brushing the edge of the deck.

“Weakness. Loss of control during transformations. And for some, visions… nightmares that left them paralyzed with fear.” His voice dipped, a shadow passing over his face. “I lost my Beta last week. He couldn’t handle it.”

Ivy’s heart tightened at the pain in his voice, but she forced herself to focus. “And you think it’s a curse?”

Killian nodded. “We’ve ruled out everything else. There’s no poison, no physical explanation. But the visions… they’re specific. They show us symbols, patterns, places that don’t make sense. One of those symbols matches the carving on your Five of Pentacles.”

Ivy froze. “What?”

Killian pulled out his phone, swiping to a photo. He handed it to her, and her breath caught. The image was of a stone altar, its surface etched with intricate symbols. At the center was a carving identical to the one on her card.

“Where is this?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Northern National Park,” Killian replied. “Deep in Mage territory.”

Ivy’s stomach sank. The park was sacred land, guarded fiercely by the Mage societies. Trespassing there was a death wish.

“You want me to go there?” she asked incredulously. “Do you know what they’ll do if they catch us?”

Killian’s jaw tightened. “I’ll protect you. But I can’t do this alone.”

By the time they left her apartment, the city had fallen into a restless quiet. Ivy’s mind churned as she followed Killian to his car, a sleek black SUV that looked out of place in her modest neighborhood.

“We’ll need supplies,” she said, climbing into the passenger seat. “And I’ll need time to prepare a few protective spells.”

Killian arched a brow as he started the engine. “I thought you said you weren’t a mage.”

“I’m not,” Ivy shot back. “But I know enough to keep us alive.”

The drive was tense, neither of them speaking as the city lights faded into the distance. Ivy stole a glance at Killian, his profile sharp and unreadable. Despite her reservations, she couldn’t deny the pull of his presence. It wasn’t just his looks or his confidence. There was something deeper, a weight he carried that mirrored her own.

Finally, she broke the silence. “If this curse is as old as you think, what makes you think it can be broken?”

Killian’s grip on the wheel tightened. “Because it has to be. If it isn’t, my pack is finished. And so am I.”

They arrived at a remote cabin just before midnight. The air was colder here, biting through Ivy’s jacket as she stepped out of the car. The cabin was small but well-maintained, its windows glowing with warm light.

“This is your base?” she asked, her breath fogging in the night air.

“For now,” Killian replied, leading her inside. “It’s safe, and it’s close enough to the park.”

Inside, the cabin was sparse but functional. A single table stood in the center, covered in maps and documents. Ivy’s eyes immediately went to the largest map, which detailed the layout of Northern National Park.

“This is where we need to go,” Killian said, pointing to a marked spot deep within the forest. “The altar is here.”

Ivy studied the map, her mind racing. The area he pointed to was notorious for its dangers, both natural and magical. Getting there wouldn’t be easy, and surviving it…

“You’re insane,” she muttered. “You know that, right?”

Killian smirked. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t like a little insanity yourself.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t argue. The thrill of the unknown was part of why she did what she did. And now, staring at the map and the challenge it represented, she felt the familiar pull of adventure.

But beneath that pull was a darker truth: this wasn’t just about solving a mystery or breaking a curse. It was about survival—for both of them.

Ivy couldn’t sleep. The clock ticked past two in the morning, but her mind refused to settle. She lay on the makeshift bed Killian had offered, staring at the ceiling as the cabin creaked with the wind outside.

A soft noise pulled her from her thoughts. She sat up, heart racing, and listened. Footsteps. Heavy and deliberate, they approached the cabin from outside. Ivy grabbed her blade and crept to the window, peering out into the darkness.

Nothing.

But the sound came again, closer this time. A shadow passed by the window, too fast to be human.

“Killian,” she hissed, moving to his door. She opened it to find his bed empty, the sheets rumpled but cold. Her stomach twisted.

The footsteps stopped, and silence fell over the cabin like a shroud. Ivy’s pulse pounded in her ears as she turned back to the main room, blade ready.

The door burst open, splintering wood and letting in a gust of icy wind. A figure loomed in the doorway, its eyes glowing with a predatory light. Ivy’s breath caught as she realized it wasn’t human.

“Where’s Killian?” the creature growled, its voice a low rumble that vibrated in her chest.

Ivy tightened her grip on the blade, her mind racing. The tarot cards on the table fluttered in the wind, their edges glowing faintly once more. The Moon card lay face-up, its message crystal clear: nothing is as it seems.

And in that moment, Ivy knew—this was just the beginning.