Page 18 of Cursed Love

The shift is real. That biological, instinctual snap that happens when a Valla meets their Omega. I’ve heard about it, read about it, even seen traces of it in other packs but I didn’t think it would happen thisfast.I didn’t think it would feel like this, like my entire fucking world realigned the moment she stepped into it.

Hunter’s been riding that high all morning and I don’t blame him. The connection he has with her already—it’s there, humming between us like a live wire. I can feel how content he is, how fucking grounded he feels for the first time in years and I want that too. I want to feel her in my blood, in my bones.

This morning, I almost didn’t leave the bed. I almost stayed curled around her and Amel like I belonged there, like she wouldn’t wake up and bolt if she found me too close. But a conversation needed to be had and we needed to give her space. I’m not great with words—not like Amel is—so I let him take the lead, trusting him to say the things I can’t.

Now, sitting here in the office, watching Hunter work like his life depends on it, I can’t help but feel restless. That contentment he’s basking in? I need it. I crave it like an ache in my chest, a constant pull that won’t let go. But for now, I let it simmer, distracting myself the only way I know how.

My phone buzzes on the desk, a small notification lighting up the screen. I glance at it, and the corner of my mouth pulls into a slow, deviant grin.

“What’s got you grinning like a lunatic?” Hunter asks, his voice teasing as he pushes his chair back from his desk. He rolls across the room, the wheels of his chair bumping into mine like we’re a couple of kids.

I turn my screen toward him, the grin still spreading across my face. “A certain package has been delivered.”

Hunter raises an eyebrow, curiosity sparking in his blue eyes. “To the basement?”

I nod, locking my phone and leaning back in my chair, stretching my arms behind my head. “To the basement,” I confirm.

Hunter lets out a sharp laugh. “You’re not gonna make me guess, are you?”

I glance at him, my grin turning wicked. “Depends. You too lovestruck to have a little fun?”

His laughter grows louder as he spins his chair back and forth, his hands gripping the armrests like he’s weighing his options. “Depends on your definition of fun.”

“Let’s just say,” I start, standing and stretching my shoulders, “this morning’s about to get a whole lot more interesting.”

Hunter’s on his feet in a second, his grin matching mine as he cracks his knuckles. “Good,” he says. “I was needing a little morning workout anyway. This’ll be perfect.”

The basement is an entirely a different world—a world separate from the pristine, five-story fortress in the city where all the legal work gets done. Up there, it’s all contracts, polished deals, and clean business. Down here? It’s the dark underbelly. The place where conversations get intimate. Where deals get made without paperwork. And, sometimes, where the kind of workouts happen that you can’t exactly log in at the gym.

Hunter and I step through the heavy metal door, the temperature several degrees lower than upstairs. My boots echo against the concrete floor as my gaze sweeps over the dimly lit space, landing on the centerpiece of today’s entertainment. Paula.

She’s tied to a small chair, her arms and legs bound securely, her wrists straining against the thick ropes. Her face is twisted in panic, her eyes wide as they dart between Hunter and me. As soon as she sees us, she starts screaming. Predictable.

“Let me go!” she shrieks, her voice high-pitched, desperate. “You’ve already terrified me enough—I’m not saying anything! Using brute force on me just proves what everyone thinks about Valla! You’re all just—”

I cut her off with a sharp laugh, the sound bouncing off the cold walls. Hunter snorts beside me, leaning casually against one of the steel support beams, arms crossed over his chest. He’s always been good at the silent intimidation thing during these moments. Me? I like to talk.

I pull out the chair across from her, dragging it slowly, the legs scraping against the floor. The sound makes her flinch and I grin as I sit down, settling in like I’m about to have a friendly little chat. “Paula,” I muse, my tone light, almost amused. “Do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?”

Her glare sharpens, but there’s fear behind it, a crack in her bravado that I don’t miss. I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, and gesture toward one of the men standing near the shadows—one of our employees on private payroll, the kind who gets things done without asking too many questions.

“Appreciate you rounding her up,” I say, nodding to him. “Back entrance, I assume?”

He nods once, his face impassive. “Quiet and clean. No one saw a thing.”

“Good.” I turn my attention back to Paula, who’s shifting uncomfortably in her chair, her breathing shallow. “See? That’s the thing you don’t seem to get, Paula. You’re under the impression that someone’s going to find out about this. That someone’s going to come rescue you.” I tilt my head, lettingthe grin stretch wider. “But they’re not. Because no one knows you’re here.”

Her face pales, but she doesn’t stop glaring. “You think you can keep this quiet? People already think Valla are monsters—this will only confirm it.”

I laugh again, settling back in my chair. “Paula, you’re making this so much more dramatic than it needs to be. This isn’t about being monsters or brute force. This is about reminding you of your place. You fucked up. You leaked information. And you thought you could get away with it. That was your first mistake.”

Hunter finally speaks, his voice dripping with venom. “And your second mistake?” He pushes off the support beam, stepping closer until his presence looms over her. “Thinking we wouldn’t find out.”

Paula’s breathing quickens, her defiance cracking further as she looks between us. I watch her carefully, the way her jaw trembles just slightly, the way her fingers twitch against the ropes. She’s scared, no matter how hard she tries to hide it. And she should be.

I stand, towering over her, my grin never faltering. “Now, Paula,” I say, my voice dripping with mock kindness. “We can do this the easy way, or we can make this... an experience. But either way, you’re going to tell us what we want to know. And trust me, no one’s coming to save you.”

“What do youwant?” she finally asks, her voice breaking, desperation dripping from every syllable.

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