Chapter 119: Cursed from Birth

Adeline’s POV~

"Her wolf isn’t dormant," the old witch rasped, her voice rough. "It has been suppressed by someone. Someone used ancient magic to trap her wolf the exact day she was born."

Dowager Luna Gwen froze. The color drained from her face, her sharp eyes widening in sudden, fierce disbelief.

"What do you mean?" Gwen demanded, stepping closer to the bed, her voice tight with rising panic. "Her wolf was suppressed? Explain that right now."

The witch pulled her wrinkled hand away from my chest, letting the heavy dark fabric of her sleeve fall back into place.

"There are two distinct magics bound to her soul," she explained, looking directly at Gwen. "I can feel them wrapping around her core like barbed wire. One is a pain-binding curse... and the other is an ancient spell keeping her true beast locked away. I can sense it pulsing right beneath her skin."

I lay there against the soft velvet pillows, my body heavy, my mind spinning.

A curse? Ancient magic? Someone locked away my wolf before I even took my first breath?

My thoughts raced back, piecing together the broken fragments of the day. I remembered standing in my dorm room, staring at that terrifying note about my mother, Scarlett. But before all of that... before any of this royal madness started...

I remembered standing out on the academy grounds. A sudden, sharp sting had burned right across my cheek, hot and stinging out of nowhere. I had been so confused, but the pain faded after a few minutes. I pushed it to the back of my mind, rushing over when I saw Sierra, completely forgetting about it.

Until we got here.

A cold shiver raced down my spine. The memory of that agony made my stomach turn.

The second we stepped foot inside this massive estate, it hit me. A terrible, unbearable pain had suddenly ripped through both of my hands, feeling like invisible blades tearing straight through my skin and scraping against my bones.

Then came the worst part, a sharp, violent sting piercing right through the back of my hand, like a heavy dagger driving straight through my body.

It hurt so badly. It felt like my limbs were being ripped apart from the inside out. All I remember doing was gasping for air before everything went completely black.

Now, waking up in this luxurious, gold-trimmed room fit for a queen, I wasn’t alone. Standing at the side of the bed were two women. The Dowager Luna, and this strange, intimidating old woman.

She didn’t have a wolf. I couldn’t smell the familiar earthy scent of a pack member, but the aura radiating off her was heavy, ancient, and suffocatingly powerful. When she had pressed her hand against my chest just moments ago, a strange, burning warmth had flooded my veins.

She’s a witch.

I swallowed hard, my throat feeling like sandpaper. If a royal witch was here, if my entire existence was built on lies and dark curses... what else didn’t I know?

"Who... who did this to me?" I whispered, my voice cracking as I finally forced the words past my dry lips, looking up at Gwen with wide, terrified eyes. "What is happening to me?"

Gwen stepped closer to the edge of the velvet bed, her expression softening into a deep, unexpected gentleness as she reached out to brush a stray lock of hair away from my forehead.

"Don’t overthink, sweetie," Gwen murmured softly, her voice carrying a warm comfort. "Everything will be fine. You are safe here."

She turned her sharp, commanding gaze away from me and fixed it entirely on the elderly mystic standing beside her.

"The pain-binding curse can be reverted, can’t it?" Gwen pressed, her tone sharpening with urgency. "It can be removed with a ritual performed by the exact same witch who placed it on Adeline in the first place, right?"

The witch let out a slow, heavy sigh, her old eyes dimming as she shook her head.

"Yes, Dowager Luna," the witch replied quietly. "That is the traditional way... but it is no longer possible."

Gwen’s posture went rigid, a sudden, fierce flash of alarm cutting across her features.

"What do you mean?!" Gwen demanded, stepping half an inch closer, her voice rising in disbelief. "Why is it not possible anymore? Track them down! Force them to undo it!"

The witch looked past Gwen, her cloudy, ancient eyes locking directly onto mine.

"The curse is deeply bound between their souls and their wolves," the witch explained, her voice sounding hollow and grave. "And from what I can feel through her core... the witch who cast it is already dead. The spell didn’t fade with her, it transformed. It became a self-sustaining curse, feeding on its own dark magic."

Panic surged through my chest, cold and suffocating. Dead? A self-sustaining curse? What does that even mean for me?

Gwen’s breath hitched. The formidable Matriarch looked genuinely rattled, her hands tightening into fists at her sides.

"Then what are we supposed to do now?!" Gwen pressed, a rare note of panic bleeding into her authority. "What is the solution?! She cannot bear the unbearable pain of someone else forever!"

The witch nodded slowly, her expression grim.

"Exactly, Your Grace," the witch confirmed. "Right now, she is suffering the exact agony of someone else, feeling every blow, every wound, every strike meant for another. It is draining her life force, making her weaker and weaker by the day. Whoever cast this wanted her to live a slow, agonizing life of silent torture."

The old woman stepped closer, her gaze heavy and sorrowful.

"The pain-binding curse is not simple," she continued, her words sending a fresh wave of dread down my spine. "It doesn’t leave permanent physical wounds on her actual skin, but her nervous system and her mind experience the full, brutal impact. It tears away at her body and her soul from the inside out. She won’t survive this much longer, especially because her suppressed wolf isn’t awake to fight back or reject the foreign magic."

My chest tightened until it hurt. I couldn’t breathe. I’m dying... and I don’t even know why.

Before the heavy silence could completely crush the hope out of the room, the witch spoke.

"However," the old mystic whispered. "There are only two ways left to protect her."

The Dowager Luna didn’t waste a single second, her voice cutting through the heavy, suffocating silence of the massive bedroom.

"Tell me what it is!" Gwen demanded, stepping right up to the mystic, her eyes flashing with a fierce, dangerous urgency. "What does it take to remove the curse? Name your price, do whatever you have to do, just fix this!"

The witch raised a trembling hand and nodding frantically, gesturing for the frantic Matriarch to steady herself.

"The ancient curse suppressing her wolf... I do not know yet what it is, nor do I know what it takes to break it," the old mystic admitted heavily, her voice dropping into a grave murmur.

"I need time. A few days to study, to dig into texts that haven’t seen the light of day in centuries. I have never felt magic this ancient, this powerful, or this tightly woven around a living soul."

Gwen’s jaw tightened, the lines on her face hardening. "And the pain-binding curse? If the witch who cast it is dead, what are we supposed to do? We can’t just let her sit here and bleed through someone else’s agony!"

"We have only two options left," the witch replied, her eyes shifting across the room to lock directly onto mine.

"Name them," Gwen ordered, stepping closer.

"Option one," the old woman explained slowly, her voice carrying a chilling weight. "Her true soul mate, chosen by the Moon Goddess. The physical closeness, the raw intimacy, and the natural pull of a true mate would suppress the pain entirely. If her mate is strong enough, if his hold over her is passionate enough, she won’t feel so much as a phantom sting of the curse. But... it is only a temporary fix. A bandage on a gaping wound."

"And the second option?" Gwen pressed, her voice tight.

"Her wolf must wake up," the witch said firmly. "From what I can sense deep beneath her core, her true beast is already fighting. It is desperately struggling to break the cage, tearing against the magic just to breathe. If her wolf wakes, its natural power can reject the dark spell and shatter the curse from the inside out."

The witch sighed, a sound full of sorrow and exhaustion. "To wake her wolf, I need to figure out how to undo that ancient suppression magic. But until I find a way... until I can break the cage... the only immediate option we have to save her life from this agony is her true soul mate."

The words echoed in my ears, heavy and unreal.

A mate? Wake my wolf?

Before my racing thoughts could even catch up, the witch turned her gaze back to me, her weathered face softening with pity.

"Adeline," the witch asked softly, stepping closer to the edge of the mattress. "Look deep inside yourself. By any chance... have you felt any pull? A sudden rush of heat? A scent that makes your blood sing and tells your instincts that he belongs to you? If you have already crossed paths with your true mate, finding him and holding onto him is the only way to shield your body from this torture, even for a little while."

My mind spun violently. Panic clawed at my throat.

My mate?

Images flashed behind my eyelids with blinding speed. Raven. Keiran. My body rejected their Royal Lycan Blood. I heard Raven say that only the true fated mate rejects the blood because the healing seeks physical closeness. It is not possible.

No. No, I can’t.

I was a rogue, a nobody, a pawn trapped between terrifying forces. If I had a mate among these monsters, it would only be a death sentence.

I shook my head frantically, pressing back against the pillows. "No," I breathed, my voice trembling. "I don’t have a ma—"

The heavy, iron-reinforced wooden doors of the bedroom flew open with a deafening crash, slamming violently against the stone walls.

Four deep, rough, and violently possessive voices cut me off mid-sentence, shaking the air right out of my lungs.

"Yes, she does!"