Page 37 of Cursed Love

“Yeah. I feel it.”

Amel grins, brushing another kiss against my lips, softer this time but no less passionate. “Good,” he says, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “Because you’re ours now, sweet girl. But I think you always were.”

Koa

The week blurs together. It’s like I’ve stepped into an entirely new world—one that revolves around me in a way that’s both overwhelming and intoxicating. I wake up every morning tangled in their arms, their warmth and soft breaths grounding me before we all stumble into the chaos of the day.

Cuddle fests at night. Professional during the day. It’s a strange duality—how they can go from being my overprotective, doting mates to running their company with precision and authority. I slip into the routine like it’s second nature, riding tothe office with them, watching the way they fall into their roles so effortlessly.

It’s oddly satisfying, sitting in the corner of the brothers’ office, sorting through files or watching them work. Sometimes I catch myself staring at them too long—Hunter scrolling through his laptop, glasses perched on his nose, or Moses leaning back in his chair, the light catching the sharp angles of his jaw. Amel’s all but moved in, ensuring that I get a little quality time with the three of them.

They haven’t pressured me for anything since my heat, though there’s a charged energy between us that makes my skin buzz whenever they’re close. There’s no expectation to perform, no demand for me to give anything, and it’s strange. Good, but strange. I was so prepared to have to give myself over to them and submit that I’m wondering if I’m not doing enough.

I haven’t answered Damien’s calls or anyone from my family. The calls come in waves, one after another, like they think eventually I’ll cave. But the silence that follows each unanswered ring feels louder, heavier. I half expect someone to show up at the house, to drag me back to their world of control and expectations. But no one does. Empty threats, it seems.

The brothers are attentive—too attentive. Hunter and Moses hover constantly, one of them always close enough to touch, their hands brushing against mine or tucking a stray curl behind my ear.

“Go find something to do,” I mutter one day, swatting at Hunter as he leans over my desk to sneak a piece of candy from my stash.

“Iamdoing something,” he says, smirking down at me as he pops the candy into his mouth. “I’m keeping you company.”

“More like breathing down my neck,” I shoot back, rolling my eyes. Moses snickers from across the room, his grin wide and infuriating as he types something into his laptop.

Amel’s a bit more subtle, but not by much. He’s always watching, but there’s a softness there that makes my chest ache. Like he’s waiting for me to say something, to ask for something. And maybe I am.

The worst part, though, is the grins. Every time I ask Hunter or Moses a question—anything—they get this look on their faces, all wolfish and smug like they’re one step away from devouring me. And I’m not ashamed to admit it works. My stomach flips, my cheeks heat, and I can’t even bring myself to glare at them because Ilikeit.

There’s been more than one occasion where one of them almost bent me over a desk. I could feel it in the way Hunter’s hands lingered on my waist or the way Moses’ growl rumbled in his chest when I brushed past him. But then someone walks into the office—a Beta with a file, or some poor employee with a question—and the moment is gone.

It’s maddening. Frustrating. And yet, I can’t stop smiling as I sit here, sorting through another stack of files, listening to the soft hum of their voices and the occasional sound of typing. It’s not perfect, and it’s certainly not what I expected, but for the first time in a long time, it feels like I might enjoy what’s ahead of me.

Koa

The evening starts out quiet, almost normal if anything I do with Amel can be considered normal. We’re wandering through the high-end stores in the city center, Amel guiding me with his hand lightly pressed against my lower back, his voice a smooth rumble as he explains why each piece of clothing will suit me. I don’t even argue. I don’t have the energy to fight him on it—not when he’s so determined to pamper me.

“You don’t have to go overboard,” I mutter, glancing at the price tags on the racks and cringing. “I have stuff at home.”

Amel arches a brow at me, his lips twitching into that half-smile that makes me want to kiss it off his face. “Sweet girl, you’re a part of our pack now. You deserve to walk into the office looking and feeling like the queen you are. Besides, I’m not just buying business clothes. We’re getting you a full nest. One you can be proud of.”

I stop short, turning to look at him fully. “What’s wrong with pillow A and pillow B?” I ask, trying to keep the laughter out of my voice.

He groans dramatically, running a hand down his face. “I love pillow A and pillow B, but they’re not exactly screaming luxury.”

I burst out laughing, the sound surprising even me. It feels good to laugh like this, even if only for a moment. Amel’s smile softens as he watches me, his hand sliding from my back to my hip, tugging me closer.

We end up in the back of one of the stores, tucked away in a private fitting room. I don’t even know how it happens, but one minute we’re talking about fabric textures, and the next his lips are on mine, his hands gripping my waist as he presses me against the wall. His scent wraps around me, rich and intoxicating, and I sink into him, forgetting everything else.

That is, until someone clears their throat.

I freeze, my heart dropping into my stomach as I pull back, my eyes darting to the source of the sound. Damien. Of course, it’s Damien, standing there with two of his Alpha friends—the same ones who were there that night. The night that changed everything.

My blood turns to ice as they step closer, Damien’s laugh echoing through the space. “Oh, so you’re too important now to call your own family back?” he sneers, his gaze raking over me like I’m something he owns. “You’ve got these mutts pampering you, so now you think you’re better than us?”

I want to shrink back, to run, but Amel’s presence at my side keeps me rooted. I straighten my shoulders, even though I’m shaking so hard I can feel my knees wobbling. “I didn’t think you’d care,” I say, my voice trembling but steady enough. “You’ve always made it clear what I’m worth to you.”

Damien’s smile turns cruel as he takes another step forward. “They’ll drop you,” he says, his voice venomous. “When they realize they want kids and you can’t give them any, they’ll throw you out like yesterday’s trash.”

My nails dig into my palms and I lift my chin, meeting his gaze head-on. “That’s not your concern anymore.” I drag my tongue across my bottom lip, over Amel’s bite, drawing Damien’s attention to it.

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