Breed Me Cursed Alpha (Lyra and Ronan) novel Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Lyra

The words don’t make sense at first.

‘He keeps saying your name.’

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I stare at the warrior like the language itself has betrayed me. My chest tightens, sharp and hollow at the same time, and for a heartbeat the world narrows to the space between us.

“My… name?” I ask. “Or the Alpha’s?”

Ronan’s hand is already at my back. Not possessive. Steady. Grounding. I feel the tension coil through him, feel Cain pacing like a blade drawn halfway from its sheath.

“Yes,” the warrior says. “Yours. Luna’s.”

The wards hum again, low and angry, like they’re bracing for impact. Outside, voices overlap. Orders. Feet on stone. The sound of a pack mobilizing without being told to.

Ronan doesn’t look at me. He’s already moving, already the Alpha King they orbit when something breaks the rules of the world.

“Bring him in,” Ronan says. “Slow. No restraints. No silver near him.”

The warrior hesitates. “Alpha-”

“Now,”

That does it.

He runs.

I move too, before anyone can stop me. Ronan turns sharply, eyes flashing.

“Lyra.”

“I’m coming,” I say, and there is no tremor in my voice. “If he’s saying my name, I’m coming.”

The look Ronan gives me is a war between instinct and trust. Trust wins, barely.

“Stay with me,” he says. Not a plea. A command.

“I plan to,” I promise.

The corridor blurs as we move. Torches throw light and shadow in uneven streaks. Pack members line the walls, some solid, some still flickering at the edges, all of them alert, wary, watching me with an intensity that crawls under my skin.

20:18 Thu, Feb 12 d.

Chapter 34

Something is wrong.

Not danger. Not yet.

Recognition.

We reach the gate hall, and the smell hits me first.

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Blood. Old and fresh layered together. Silver burns have a scent of their own. Bitter. Wrong. My stomach flips.

They’ve laid him on the stone near the threshold, just inside the wards. Two healers kneel beside him, hands hovering, waiting. No one touches him without permission.

I see the body before I see the face.

Too thin.

Clothes torn, soaked through at the shoulder and ribs. One arm bent at an angle that makes my breath catch. Bruises blooming dark and deep, layered like he’s been hit over and over again.

My heart starts to pound.

Then he shifts slightly, dragging in a shallow breath that scrapes.

And I know.

Before I see his face, I know.

I break free of Ronan’s hand and drop to my knees beside him.

“Kyle.”

The name rips out of me, raw and disbelieving.

His eyes flutter open at the sound.

Brown. Bloodshot. Too bright with fever and pain.

My half brother.

My future alpha brother, once.

He tries to smile. It comes out crooked, broken by a cough that leaves red at the corner of his mouth.

“Hey,” he rasps. “Knew… you’d come.”

The world tilts.

I don’t remember moving, only that my hands are on him, that I’m shaking, that the healers murmur urgently as they assess wounds I don’t want to see.

20:19 Thu, Feb 12 d

Chapter 34

“Don’t talk,” I say, voice breaking. “You’re safe. You’re- you’re here.”

Here.

In Ronan’s territory.

In the one place Marcus cannot touch him.

The realization hits like ice water.

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Ronan crouches beside us, face carefully neutral, eyes scanning Kyle with a predator’s distrust. Cain is coiled so tight inside him I can feel it through the bond, a low, furious thrum.

“Kyle,” Ronan says evenly. “Who did this to you?”

Kyle laughs weakly, then winces. “You think I walked into this by accident?”

My throat closes.

“What does that mean?” I whisper.

Kyle’s gaze slides past me, unfocused, then snaps back like he’s fighting to stay conscious. “Council wolves,” he says. “Not ours. Not yours. The ones that don’t wear colors.”

The ones who don’t answer to anyone.

My blood runs cold.

“They wanted information,” Kyle continues, breath hitching. “About you. About him.” His eyes flick to Ronan. “About the curse.”

Ronan’s jaw tightens.

“They knew my name,” Kyle says hoarsely. “They knew I was your half brother.”

My stomach twists.

“You’re lying,” I say automatically. “You hate me.”

Kyle closes his eyes. “I did,” he admits. “I was trained to.”

That hurts worse than denial.

“They said if I didn’t talk,” he goes on, voice fading, “they’d send me back in pieces. Or send me to you.”

A trap.

The word echoes in my head, sharp and relentless.

I look up at Ronan. “This could be a setup.”

20:19 Thu, Feb 12 d

Chapter 34

“I know,” he says quietly.

“And you still let him in.”

“Yes.”

I search his face. “Why?”

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“Because he crossed the wards alive,” Ronan answers. “And because he asked for you. He’s your blood Lyra.”

The healers start working at last, gentle and fast. One of them looks up at me. “Luna, we need to move him. He has internal bleeding.”

I nod numbly and shift back as they lift Kyle onto a stretcher.

Kyle’s fingers catch in my sleeve before they can pull him away. Weak. Desperate.

“Don’t let them take me back,” he whispers. “Please.”

Tears burn my eyes.

“I won’t,” I promise. “I swear.”

Ronan straightens, turning to the pack gathering at the edges of the hall. His presence fills the space, quiet and absolute.

“No one leaves,” he says. “No messages out. No council contact. We are sealed.”

Murmurs ripple. Fear. Excitement. Suspicion.

Kyle is carried toward the infirmary, and I follow, heart in my throat, questions screaming.

Who did this to him?

Why now?

And why send Kyle?

Inside the infirmary, the healers move with practiced urgency. I stand at the foot of the bed, useless hands clenched together, watching them work.

Ronan stations himself near the door, a silent warning.

Kyle drifts in and out, murmuring fragments.

“They wanted you scared,” he mumbles once/”Said you’d come running.”

My chest tightens.

“Who said that?” I ask.

once

20:19 Thu, Feb 12 c …

Chapter 34

But he’s already gone again.

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A healer presses a cloth to his side, then looks up sharply. “Luna. These wounds are purposeful. Not just hurting him. Causing him pain. Conditioning.”

I swallow. “Conditioning for what?”

“To survive long enough to reach you.”

Ronan’s head snaps up.

“That means,” the healer continues, carefully, “they wanted him to make it here.”

Silence slams down.

I feel suddenly very watched.

By the pack.

By the land.

By something waiting to see what Ronan will do.

Kyle stirs again, eyes fluttering open. He finds me instantly.

“They’ll come,” he whispers.

“Who will?” I ask.

“The ones who did this.” His gaze sharpens with a flicker of his old arrogance, stripped raw. “And when they do… they won’t knock.”

His eyes close.

The machines begin to hum louder, faster.

I press my hands together, grounding myself, and lift

my

chin.

Whatever this is, whatever game just started…

They brought it to the wrong territory,

And they hurt the wrong person.

Behind me, Ronan shifts, the air changing with him. I feel Cain stir, hungry and alert.

Outside the infirmary, the wards thrum again.

Harder.

Like something is testing them.