Page 25 of The Cursed Wolf King

Damian’s smug expression never faltered.

“Stay back, Eve” I murmured to her, the sound of her name at last on my lips feeling like a prayer to the ShadowMoon Goddess herself. The heat of her, her scent still tangled with that metallic tang of blood, pushed me forward.

My wolf’s need for blood roared within me, and I felt the shift coming as my senses heightened, every fiber of my being focused on the enemy in front of me.

“You’re making a big mistake,” I warned him.

Damian only grinned, rolling his shoulders as he prepared for the fight. “Your only mistake was ever thinking you could take what’s mine.”

That was it. Every nerve in me screamed for retribution, the wolf within me ready to do what it took to protect her.

I shifted as I crossed the floor.

12

EVE

As Logan’s form started to shift, I was captivated, my breath held in my throat. The air around him thickened, vibrating with power as his muscles rippled, and his body began to change. His transformation was seamless, like his wolf had been at the ready. His clothes shredded as his frame expanded, bones snapping and reforming, fur bursting forth like a dark storm rolling across his skin.

I’d seen wolves shift before—Heraclid wolves, ones who wore their beast like a threat, their movements sharp and jarring, a harsh wrenching of flesh and bone. But with him, it was like watching water change shape, fluid and fierce, a dance between his human self and the wolf that lay hidden within. His eyes held steady, even as they shifted to a blazing gold, locked on to Damian with a focus so intense it seemed to shake the ground.

Logan, the alpha of Orion.

My heartbeat quickened as I watched, awe and terror grabbing hold of me by the neck.

Logan’s wolf lunged, a dark blur of fury, slamming into Damian as he finished his own shift. The impact was brutal—Damian’s wolf stumbled sideways, paws skidding across the polished floor, a shocked snarl ripping from his throat. A strange warmth jolted through my hands, tingling up my arms, and I looked down, bewildered. It was as if I’d dealt the blow myself, like my strength had somehow mingled with Logan’s, woven into the force that sent Damian sprawling.

The clash in front of me was savage, but… deeper. Logan’s wolf snapped forward, fierce and unrelenting, while Damian retaliated, his movements jagged, less controlled. The room pulsed with their power, and yet something kept tugging at my senses, drawing me back to the strange energy flickering through my body. Each strike, every brutal shove, sent ripples through me, a peculiar connection that blurred the lines between observer and participant.

Damian’s wolf snarled, his claws swiping across Logan’s face in a vicious arc. I gasped, a sharp sting flaring across my own cheek, as if his claws had raked through my skin instead. The shock of it brought me back to myself, and I inhaled sharply, shaking off the confusion.

The strange pull remained. I wasn’t a detached observer—something in me was in the fight, every sense attuned to the battle like it was part of my own flesh and blood. Each movement, each bite and dodge, crackled along me, and my pulse matched the wild, brutal dance unfolding before me.

Movement caught my eye, and I spotted Sable in the far corner, half-hidden behind an overturned table. Her facewas pale, her eyes wide with horror. She looked almost… afraid. I wanted to scoff at the idea she might actually care about Damian. As Logan’s wolf knocked Damian backward with another blow, Sable’s hands flew to her mouth.

A thought wormed its way into my mind. Could it be that all this time, the hate and venom she’d spit at me… had it been jealousy? Maybe this bitter, simmering rage she held for me wasn’t just about the pack’s strange fixation on my abilities. No, it was something else. She cared for him—or at least thought she did.

It hit me. It could be that Sable hated me not just because I was the pack oracle, but because I was betrothed to Damian. I’d stood in her way, an obstacle to whatever sick affection she held for him.

Another crack sounded as Logan’s wolf lunged, pinning Damian down, and Sable flinched again. A dark satisfaction snaked through me as I watched her reaction.

They deserved each other. Damian and Sable—two souls bound by cruelty. True, Sable hadn’t ever laid a hand on me herself, but her words, her scornful looks, the sharp digs when I’d barely been holding myself together, had left wounds all the same. Sable had been there to watch me struggle, to spit out her judgment when I was at my lowest.

Logan’s wolf circled Damian’s, both wolves wounded. Their snarls filled the café, deep and resonant, vibrating through the floor. Every hair on my body stood on end, every breath matching the tension.

Logan’s wolf moved again, lunging low and swift, his body an arc of strength and precision. He collided with Damian’s wolf, slamming him back with a force that echoed in my own body.

Damian’s wolf scrambled back to his feet, shaking off the blow, his eyes narrowed with rage. He circled, low to the ground, his shoulders rolling in a menacing rhythm. Logan’s wolf was ready, his stance unyielding, head held high, each breath controlled and powerful. Damian’s wolf darted forward, snapping at Logan’s neck, but Logan evaded him, his agility so fluid it almost looked like he was dancing, weaving out of Damian’s reach, muscles rippling beneath his dark fur.

They clashed again, teeth bared, claws digging into each other as they grappled. Logan’s wolf gripped Damian’s shoulder, throwing him down and pressing his weight onto him. A fierce satisfaction thrummed through me, but Damian wasn’t giving in. With a desperate twist, he managed to wriggle free, lunging forward to rake his claws across Logan’s side.

Logan’s wolf snarled in pain, but his resolve didn’t waver. He pivoted, fangs bared, moving with ferocity, and landed a bite that made Damian stumble backward, ears flattened. Damian’s wolf shook himself, blood trickling from his shoulder. His eyes gleamed with a vicious need for retribution.

My knees gave out, and I gripped the edge of a nearby table, grounding myself, forcing air back into my lungs. The pain echoed in my ribs, a phantom ache that refused to fade.

Logan’s wolf staggered, but only for a moment. His growl deepened, resonating through me like a drumbeat. There was no hesitation, no trace of weakness. He steadied himself and charged, lunging at Damian with a renewed force.

As I hunched over, trying to steady my breath andprocess the strange pull connecting me to Logan, a shadow loomed beside me. I looked up to see Sable, her face tight, lips pressed into a hard line. She leaned down, close enough that I could feel the warmth of her breath.

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