Page 14 of Cursed Love

Amel sits on the coffee table in front of us, his elbows resting on his knees as he looks between us. He’s calm but I can see it in his eyes—the same restless energy that’s coursing through me. The same need to do something. To fix this. To claim her. How he isn’t busting out of his pants at this moment, the need to claim her overriding everything else is beyond me. I could reach down and a few strokes later be coming with her sweet name on my lips. That blueberry scent is going to be the fucking death of me.

The soft whimpers from behind the closed door echo through the house, faint but impossible to ignore. My stomach twists every time I hear them and it takes everything in me not to get up and go to her. The only reason I don’t is because I know I would terrify her.

“She’s terrified,” Amel starts. “I don’t know everything she’s been through, but it’s clear she hasn’t had an easy life.”

Moses shifts beside me, his hands gripping the edge of the couch. “What do you mean?” There’s a growl to the edge of his voice, my brother working against his instincts.

Amel runs a hand through his hair, letting out a slow breath. “There are bruises around her neck and shoulders. Faint, but they’re there. From an Alpha named Damien, I’m guessing. He’s the Alpha who had his claws in her tonight.”

I don’t need to know him to hate him. The thought of anyone putting their hands on her, of hurting her, makes my blood boil. My fists clench, my knuckles going white as I force myself to stay seated.

“She’s scared of being hurt,” Amel continues. “That much is obvious. And with how she’s shut herself away from us instead of letting us help her, I’m almost certain something happened during one of her heats. Something that left a mark.”

My stomach twists at the implication, the anger burning hotter in my chest. I grit my teeth, trying to hold back the growl that’s building in my throat. Someone hurt her. Someone hurt our Omega.

Amel’s dark eyes land on me. “Don’t,” he says firmly, like he can see the rage bubbling just beneath my skin. “We’re not going to lose our heads over this. Not now. Right now she needs us, more than anything. I have no idea what that looks like but it doesn’t start with ripping Damien apart. It might end that way but tonight, it’s about Koa.”

I run her name across my tongue a few times. It’s as sweet as it sounds, strong and soft all at once. It’s perfect. Her cries cut through the house, soft and broken, but they’re like knives slicing into my chest. Every sound she makes is a blow I can’t block, a weight pressing harder and harder until my beast is clawing to the surface, snarling to do something—anything.I’ve never felt this way before, not with Amel or any other I’ve taken into my bed.

With her, I can’t just sit here and ignore her cries, her pleas for help. Amel is calling for me but I can’t understand the words. They’re drowned out by her, by the desperate whimpers seeping through the walls, the faint gasps of breath as she fights whatever hell she’s stuck in. She’s in my room.My room.My bed, my scent, my space. It’s doing something to me, something raw and primal that I can’t explain, can’t fight. My chest feels tight, my muscles coiled, my hands shaking at my sides as I stare at the door separating us.

Before I know it, I’m gripping the doorknob too tightly, twisting it farther than it should go. The wood groans, splinterscracking under the pressure, and then the door bursts open. Her scent hits me first, thick and sweet, like blueberries drenched in honey. It’s everywhere, filling the air, sinking into my skin, wrapping around me until I can barely breathe. My beast roars inside me, a deep, guttural sound that echoes in my chest, but it’s nothing compared to the sound of her.

Her cries. Sweet, broken, desperate cries that make my blood ignite and my heart ache all at once.

She’s curled up on the bed, buried under my blankets, her small body trembling as she clutches the fabric to her chest. Her face is flushed, her lips parted as she sucks in shaky breaths, and her eyes—Gods, her eyes. Wide and tear-streaked, they lock onto me with a mix of fear and something else.Need.Pure, unadulterated need.

She freezes, her breath hitching as I step inside, my shoulders heaving as I try to steady myself. The beast is too close, its instincts flooding my system, demanding I take her, claim her,fixwhatever’s hurting her. “Koa,” I murmur, my voice rough and strained as I force myself to stop at the edge of the bed. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now.”

She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just stares at me like she’s trying to decide if I’m her salvation or her destruction. My hands flex at my sides, my fingers itching to touch her, to pull her into my arms and hold her until she stops shaking. Until she feels safe.

Her scent swirls around me again, and I let out another low growl, my body trembling with the effort to keep myself in check. “Koa,” I say again, softer this time, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Let me help you.”

Her lips part, a small, shaky sound slipping out, and my chest tightens at the sight of her tears glistening in the dim light. I take another step closer, lowering myself onto the edge of thebed. Her wide eyes follow me, her body still trembling, but she doesn’t move away.

“Baby girl, you need a knot. Let me—”

She reaches for me, her elegant fingers wrapping around my arm as she tries to drag me onto the bed. Her body is slick with sweat, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. Her curls stick to her forehead, damp with sweat, and her doe eyes are wide, pleading for me to help her. She looks so small like this, so vulnerable.

“Baby girl,” I murmur, brushing her hair back from her face. “I’ve got you. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Her hands clutch at my shirt, her nails digging in like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she lets go. “Promise,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “Promise me.”

Horror flashes through my expression before I fix my face. The fact that she needs to ask that guts me but this isn’t the time or place to address it. “I promise,” I say, pressing my lips to her forehead. She tastes like salt and heat, and I can feel the way her body trembles against mine. She’s burning up, lost in the throes of a heat spike, and I know she needs relief. But more than that, she needs to feel safe.

I slide the dress off her shoulders, careful not to startle her. The fabric clings to her skin, soaked through with her slick, and the scent of her is overwhelming—sweet and heady and desperate. My mouth waters, but I force myself to focus on her. When I move to position her on all fours, she shakes her head violently, panic flashing in her eyes. “No,” she gasps, clutching at me again. “I need… I need to see you.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the chest. She needs to see me. Needs to know it’s me touching her, caring for her. Not some faceless alpha taking what they want from her.

“Okay,” I say softly, shifting so I’m facing her fully. My hands cradle her face, thumbs brushing away the tears that spill down her cheeks. “You can see me. I’m right here.”

She nods shakily, her breath hitching as I guide her onto her back. Her legs part instinctively, and the sight of her—flushed and trembling and so damn beautiful—makes my chest ache. But I keep my movements slow, deliberate, letting her track every touch.

“I’m gonna take care of you,” I whisper against her ear as my fingers trail down her stomach. “Gonna make you feel good.”

She whimpers when my fingers finally brush against her panties, her entire body sagging with relief. Her hips arch into my touch, the sound leaving her lips a sound of pure need.

“Valla,” she breathes and hearing my designation on her lips like that—like a prayer—undoes me.

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