Breed Me Cursed Alpha (Lyra and Ronan) novel Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Lyra

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He sets the tray on a low table near the bed, every movement careful. Up close, he looks rougher than I remember–jaw shadowed, hair unruly, eyes a shade too bright. Like he didn’t sleep.

“Come,” he says.

I shuffle over, legs still a little unsteady, and sit on the edge of the bed. He settles on the floor beside the table, back to the wall, leaving space between us but not much.

It’s oddly… normal for a second. Just two people and a tray.

“Is that real?” I ask, nodding at the food. “Or cursed castle pretend?”

A corner of his mouth softens. “Both. The pack can shape things here. They make it. You eat it. It keeps you alive.” He pauses. “That counts as real enough for me.”

I pick up a piece of bread. It’s warm. Soft. My chest tightens around something that isn’t just hunger.

“When’s the last time you ate properly?” he asks.

I shrug, tearing off a bite. “Before I was sold, I guess.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“At home we didn’t really… count meals,” I say. “Omegas get what’s left. Some days that was plenty. Some days it was… not.”

His jaw flexes. “Your father allowed that?“:

“My father pretended I wasn’t there,” I say lightly. “Except when I was useful. Or inconvenient.”

“Lyra.”

M

The way he says my name makes it sound like an apology for things he didn’t do.

I swallow hard. “It wasn’t all bad,” I lie, then sigh. “Okay, mostly it was garbage. They kept me busy. Cleaning, cooking, anything no one else wanted to do. If there was a job that meant someone got to shout and I got to apologize, it was mine.”

“Your pack failed you,” he says quietly.

I toy with a chunk of bread, suddenly fascinated by the crumb. “They sold me to a death game, so… yeah. I’d say that’s a fail.”

Silence falls for a moment. Not heavy, exactly.

Ronan takes the bowl of broth and holds it toward me. “Drink.”

“Bossy,” I mutter, but I take it. The first spoonful is so good it almost hurts. “What about you?” I ask between sips. “Any fun childhood stories? Or did you spring fully–formed out of the ground, scowling and shirtless?”

His lips twitch. “I had a pack,” he says. “Parents. Friends. A beta who thought he was funnier than he was.” A pause. “His little girl who followed me around and asked too many questions.” His eyes flick up, softer. “You’ve met her.”

“Emma,” I say.

He nods.

12:13

Tue, Feb 3

Chapter 10

5

“What happened to them wasn’t your fault,” I say automatically.

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His gaze locks with mine, something raw and fierce in it. “I claimed a bond that wasn’t mine,” he says. “I let pride choose for me. My pack pays the price every day. That will never not be my fault.”

I open my mouth to argue, to tell him that curses belong to the ones who cast them, not the ones who stumble into them- but the wave hits before I can.

It isn’t polite this time.

It doesn’t creep. It slams.

Heat knifes through me, so sudden and intense the bowl slips in my hand. Ronan catches it before it falls, sets it down, already moving.

“Lyra,” he says sharply. “Look at me.”

I drag my eyes up. The room is spinning, edges softening, his face the only solid thing left.

“I–I can’t-“The words tangle. My skin is too tight. Every inch of me aches, lit up from the inside. “It’s worse,” I choke out. “I can’t think.”

He’s on his feet in one smooth motion. “Bath,” he says. “Come on.”

Some part of me wants to argue that a bath isn’t going to fix this, but the rest of me is barely holding onto language. I let him pull me to my feet. His hand is big and warm around mine, steady in a way nothing else is.

The adjoining chamber is small, stone–walled, with a deep tub carved right into the floor. He mutters something under his breath and a moment later water begins to pour from a spout, steaming gently,

He keeps his back to me as the bath fills. “Can you undress yourself?” he asks, voice low, careful.

I could. Maybe. If my fingers would stop shaking.

I try. The ties at my shoulders blur. My body feels too heavy and too light, demanding and clumsy all at once.

“Ronan,” I whisper, hating how horny I sound.

He turns.

Our eyes meet.

He sees everything in one glance: my trembling hands, my unsteady legs, the way I’m using the wall more than I want to admit.

The muscle in his jaw jumps.

“May I?” he asks.

The question rocks me. Not the offer. The asking.

No one in my life has ever asked before touching me. They just… did. Because they could.

I nod. “Please.”

He steps closer like he’s approaching something fragile and wild at once. His fingers are careful as he unties the straps at my shoulders, letting the fabric slide down my arms. He keeps his eyes mostly on my face, only flicking lower when he has to, as if he refuses to let his gaze turn this into something it shouldn’t be.

12:13 Tue, Feb 3 G D

Chapter 10

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He helps me step out of the shift and into the water. It closes around me, warm and weightless. Some of the pressure eases on contact, the worst of the wave smoothing into something more bearable.

I exhale shakily. “That’s… better.” I admit.

Ronan kneels beside the tub, forearms resting on the edge. He grabs a cloth, dips it, and begins to run it over my shoulders, my arms, careful and impersonal as a medic tending a wounded soldier.

Except it doesn’t feel impersonal.

It feels like he’s memorizing every inch of me with hands that refuse to take what they want.

“You don’t have to—” I start.

“Yes, I do.” he says simply. “You’re mine to protect. That doesn’t mean you’re mine to use.”

My throat tightens. “You keep saying that like it’s easy.”

“It isn’t.” His voice roughens. “Trust me.”

Steam curls between us. The world narrows to the drag of the cloth, the sound of water, the steady rhythm of his breath. The storm inside me doesn’t vanish, but it finds a calmer shore for a little while.

When the water begins to cool, he stands and offers his hand. “Come on.”

I let him pull me up, heat rising to my face that has nothing to do with the bath. He turns away again as I step out, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around me with brisk efficiency.

On the bed lies a fresh shift–soft, clean.

I tug it on with clumsy fingers and sink onto the mattress. He moves around the room, straightening the blankets, adjusting pillows like he’s building a fortress of comfort he can’t afford to stay in.

“There,” he says quietly. “You should rest. That wave took a lot out of you.”

“I’m not tired,” I lie.

He gives me a look.

“Okay, I’m tired,” I amend. “But that’s not… all.”

He knows. Of course he knows. The heat hums between us, too honest for either of us to pretend otherwise.

I swallow hard. “Ronan?”

“Yes.”

“Stay with me,” I say, “Please.”

He goes very still. “Lyra…”

“I don’t mean “I break off, frustration and want tangling. “I do mean. I want you. You know I do. But even if you don’t…” 1 grip the blankets. “Just stay. Lie down. Be here.”

His eyes close for a moment, like the request physically hurts.

“If I get into that bed with you while your heat is burning this hot,” he says slowly, “I won’t be able to pretend it’s just to be

here.”

12:13 Tue, Feb 3

Chapter 10.

“Then don’t pretend,” I whisper.

His gaze snaps to mine.

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I press on, reckless. “You could make this stop. You know you could. One night, and this fever breaks and I-”

“No.” The word is sharp enough to cut. He steps closer, kneels so we’re eye–level. “Listen to me. If I touch you like that now, It won’t be because you chose it with a clear head. It’ll be heat and instinct and desperation. That is not how I take my mate for the first time.”

The words knock the breath out of me.

My mate.

He said it like a fact. Like a vow.

Tears sting my eyes, ridiculous and hot. “You think I won’t want you when this is over?”

“I think you’ll want a lot of things,” he says gently. “Revenge. Freedom. Choices. I refuse to be the curse that steals those from you.”

I hate that it makes sense.

“Ask me again when your heat is over,” he says, voice rough. “If you still want me then, I’ll listen. Until that day, I don’t touch you like that. No matter how much either of us burns.”

“Fine.” I whisper. “But for the record? I’m going to ask.”

A small, wrecked smile ghosts over his mouth. “I’m counting on it.”

He stands, moving toward the door. Each step feels wrong, like the space between us shouldn’t exist. He reaches for the handle.

Something in me panics. “Ronan-”

He pauses.

Turns back.

“I almost forgot the most important thing,” he murmurs.

My heart trips. “What-”

He’s in front of me before the question finishes, crossing the distance in three strides. One hand curls around my waist, firm and sure, pulling me up and toward him. The other slides to the back of my neck, fingers threading into my damp hair, gentle but unyielding.

“Goodnight,” he says softly.

And then his mouth is on mine.

The world drops away.

His lips are warm and demanding, tasting like restraint finally, finally cracking. I gasp, fingers fisting in the hair at his shoulders, and he deepens the kiss with a low sound that seems to come from somewhere far beneath his ribs.

The bond between us flares, sharp and bright, racing down my spine, curling into every empty place that’s been waiting for something I didn’t have a name for until now.

12:13 Tue, Feb 3

Chapter 10

Mate. My wolf whines.

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When he finally pulls away, we’re both breathing hard. His forehead rests against mine for one suspended, perfect moment.

“Sleep, Lyra,” he whispers. “Before I forget every line I just drew.”

My fingers tighten on his hair. “Ronan…”

He presses one last, fleeting kiss to the corner of my mouth–so tender it makes my chest ache–and then he’s gone, stepping back, slipping through the door.

It closes quietly behind him.

I sink onto the bed, lips tingling, heart pounding, heat humming through me in a new, dizzy way.

He told me to ask again when my heat is over.

He’d better be ready.

Because after that kiss…

I absolutely will.