Page 23 of The Cursed Wolf King

Warm baked apples and cloves mingled with the unmistakable tang of blood.

My wolf threatened to take me over before I’d even lifted my eyes to see who had opened the door.

Her scent was a jarring assault, tainting the air, twisting something deep inside me. She was wounded, and my wolf demanded I do somethingright now.

Across the table, the woman I’d been speaking to froze. She let out a strangled gasp and, in an instant, was gone, staring toward the door, leaving me alone. My heart pounded in sync with the pull of that scent. I hadn’t needed to look to know who had entered.

Mine.

She stood there, backlit by the dim glow of the entrance, and for a moment, the rest of the café faded to nothing. Her dress was simple, flowing in soft folds, but it was the way she carried herself. Her eyes held defiance, a sparkof something unbreakable, but also… fear. A fear she wore like armor.

My instincts took over and I was on my feet, not caring that the chair broke as it crashed to the floor. She took a step toward me and my wolf stirred with a primal need to protect.

I didn’t dare touch her. As it was, I was losing hold of myself. I raised my hand to sense the severity of her wounds and nearly shifted.

Torn skin, seeping blood, exposed flesh.

I forced myself to speak before the fury that had taken hold of me snapped into something worse.

“Who did this to you?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but words didn’t follow. Her gaze kept darting to the door, and her hands trembled as she wrapped them tightly around the folds of her dress, gripping as though her life depended on it.

“Who are you?” I growled. I didn’t sound like myself, her arrival sending my blood burning through me, my wolf so close to the edge it made my head pound.

“Please, I can explain.” Her pulse was beating fast at her throat.

Something inside me twisted, and I forced myself to take a step back. I could see her panic, feel it in every line of her, and I needed her to feel safe with me—even if I didn’t know why.

“I won’t hurt you,” I said, softer this time. “Tell me what happened.”

Her breathing slowed and her shoulders relaxed slightly. She looked at me, struggling to form the words, and I sensedsomething different beneath the fear—trust, though hesitant and new.

“Listen,” she said finally. “I’ve seen you. In visions. I think I can help you—if you protect me.”

If you protect me.The words sent a fierce emotion through my wolf. He pressed against the surface, ready to do her bidding, ready to do whatever it took to keep her safe. I forced him down, needing answers, not blind obedience.

“Then tell me,” I urged, trying to stay gentle, though every nerve in me was wound tight. “Explain it to me.”

“I have gifts,” she said between quick breaths. “Gifts that could serve you.”

I instinctively looked around the room, searching for the old woman who moments earlier had turned my world upside down with the reveal of a curse on my pack. I’d intended to send her away, dismiss the whole idea.

And thensheappeared.

It couldn’t be a coincidence, her arriving like this, speaking words about being able to help me when I hadn’t known I needed help at all five minutes earlier.

“Tell me more.”

“I want to,” she said. “But…” Her mouth hung open, her face draining of color as she choked out, “He’s coming.”

“Who?” I asked, my own pulse spiking. “Who’s coming?”

She was barely able to answer, a strangled whisper falling from her lips. “Damian.”

Before I could respond, the door flew open, glass shattering as it hit the wall with a deafening crash. A large figure stood in the doorway, his gaze sweeping over the room before locking on to her.

Damian. Alpha Grayson’s son.

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