Page 43 of Cursed Love

His jaw tightens, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly as he nods. “You are. But that doesn’t mean we’re going to let him get away with this. Not after everything he’s done to you.”

I swallow hard, my mind flashing back to Damien’s sneer, his cruel words, his cold indifference when I cried for help. “What are you going to do?” I ask hesitantly, even though I’m not sure I want the answer.

Amel’s lips press into a thin line. “That depends,” he says carefully. “On you.”

My eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”

He leans back, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Koa, the men you’ve mated aren’t saints. None of us are,” he says. “We’ll never hurt you, but we handle disrespect—and threats—differently.”

A shiver runs down my spine as realization dawns on me. “The basement?” I whisper.

Amel nods, a small, humorless smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, something like that.”

I take a shaky step back, my mind racing. “Amel… are you going to kill him?” My voice cracks on the last word, my heart hammering in my chest.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “That’s your choice, sweet girl,” he says softly, his eyes locking with mine. “You tell me what you want us to do and we’ll do it. If you want him to walk out of here alive, he will. But if you want him to pay for what he’s done—for what he’s put you through—we’ll take care of it.”

My breath catches, my throat tightening as I struggle to process his words. My brother. My tormentor. My past. Amel’s waiting, his expression patient but firm, and I realize that he’s serious. This is my decision. My power.

“I…” My voice falters, the weight of it all crashing down on me. “I don’t want him dead. There’s no reason Carla and my nephews have to suffer for his wrongdoings. He’s the breadwinner of the family and without him… no, don’t kill him. But there is something I want.”

Amel’s eyes soften slightly, his purr starting low in his chest as he reaches for me. “Okay,” he says simply, like it doesn’t matter to him either way. But I can see the way his jaw flexes, thetension in his shoulders that says otherwise. “Tell me what you do want.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek, tears prickling in my eyes. “I… I want to ask him why,” I whisper, my hands fisting at my sides. “I need to know if there was some twisted reason behind what he did or if he really is just that evil and greedy.”

Amel tilts his head, studying me with those sharp eyes that always seem to see more than I want him to. “You want answers,” he says like he’s testing the words out loud. “You think he’ll give them to you?”

“I don’t know,” I admit, the knot in my stomach tightening. “But I have to ask. I need to hear it from him. If I don’t… if I just let you—” I cut myself off, swallowing hard. “If I don’t try to understand, then I’ll never stop wondering.”

He nods slowly, his hand brushing a curl back from my face. “Alright, sweet girl,” he murmurs. “We’ll give you that chance. But when the time comes, if you feel unsafe or if he starts running his mouth, you let us handle it.”

I nod quickly, relief washing over me even as my chest feels heavier. “Thank you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. A chance to look Damien in the face and ask him questions, knowing he can’t lunge at me? I want it. I crave it. And then I’m going to curl up in my nest and sleep away the nightmare between my mates.

Amel presses a kiss to my forehead, his purr wrapping around me like a shield. “You’re stronger than you think, Koa,” he says softly. “Don’t ever forget that.”

Koa

The house feels too quiet. I’m pacing, barefoot on the cold hardwood, my nerves fraying with every second that passes. My phone keeps buzzing on the counter, Carla’s name flashing on the screen, but I can’t bring myself to answer. I already know what she wants and I can’t deal with her right now. Not when Damien’s downstairs. Not when I’m on the verge of confronting the man who’s made my life a living nightmare.

I gnaw on the inside of my cheek, the adrenaline pumping through me like a second heartbeat. It’s not just mine—I can feel it through the bond. My mates are worked up, their ragesimmering just beneath the surface, and it’s infectious. I’m fidgeting, twisting the hem of my sweater, chewing on the edge of my thumbnail until Amel walks in, his lazy grin doing nothing to soothe me.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor at this rate,” he muses, leaning against the doorframe.

I stop pacing, crossing my arms over my chest. “I can’t just sit here, Amel. I need to talk to him. I need to know.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Sweet girl, you’re not ready for what’s down there.”

“I am,” I snap. “I have to be.”

His smirk widens, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “When you walk down into that basement, you’re not going to see your brother. You’re going to see a coward—a man stripped of every ounce of control he’s ever had. And you’re going to see what Valla can really do when someone crosses the line.”

A shiver runs down my spine, but it’s not fear. It’s anticipation. It’s rage. My fists clench at my sides, my breaths coming quicker as I straighten my spine. “Good. Then I’m ready.” I’m not ready in the slightest but I can’t wait anymore. I have to ask Damien why he used me like that. I have to know if he was just evil or if there was some warped plan in his head that somehow made sense to only him.

Amel pushes off the wall, his purr rumbling softly as he moves closer. His hands find my shoulders, his thumbs brushing against my collarbone. “Take a deep breath, Koa,” he murmurs. “No one will think differently if you don’t want to go down there. Still want to see your brother? Okay, let’s go. I’ll be with you the entire time.”

The air is suffocating, thick with the metallic tang of blood and the raw scent of anger. My bare feet hesitate on the cold stone, my pulse pounding in my ears as I clutch Amel's hand like it's the only thing tethering me to reality. The sounds of flesh meeting flesh echo in the basement and I can't stop the shiver that crawls up my spine.

Damien’s head lolls to the side, blood smeared across his jaw as Hunter pulls back his fist for another strike. His eyes are wild, his beast just beneath the surface, and I can’t tell if it’s satisfaction or fury fueling him now.

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