Breed Me Cursed Alpha (Lyra and Ronan) novel Chapter 40

Chapter 40

Chapter 40

Lyra

:.

We walk until Ronan’s presence fades from the edge of my senses.

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Not gone. Never gone. But distant enough that the bond loosens its constant hum, like a hand finally unclenching after holding too tight for too long. The garden path narrows here, hedges rising higher, stone damp beneath my shoes. The air changes. Cooler. Quieter. No witnesses.

Ronan’s mother releases my arm.

The movement is small, careful. A choice.

For a few steps, neither of us speaks. I tell myself this is the part where she tries again. Where she softens. Where the mask she promised Ronan she would wear stays firmly in place. Where she tries to be my mother in law.

I am wrong.

She exhales through her nose and stops walking. I take two more steps before I realize she hasn’t followed. When I turn, her face is different. The pleasant expression has slid away like it never belonged there at all.

“You make him weak,” she says.

The words are calm. Practiced. They land harder than shouting ever could.

My chest tightens. “Excuse me?”

She looks me over slowly. Not like a person. Like an obstacle. “He hesitates now. He doubts himself. He lets sentiment guide him. That never used to be a problem.”

I swallow. “You mean he learned to care about someone.”

She scoffs. “I mean he forgot what he owes.”

The path feels too narrow suddenly. The hedges crowd in, leaves brushing my sleeves like they’re listening.

“I don’t owe anyone my life,” I say.

Her gaze sharpens. “No. You owe the pack.”

There it is.

The thing she’s been circling since the moment she looked at me and saw a solution instead of a woman.

She steps closer. Not threatening. Intimate. The way someone does when they believe they are being reasonable.

“You love my son,” she says. It is not a question.

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Chapter 40

“Yes.”

“Then sleep with him.”

The words steal the air from my lungs.

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For a heartbeat, I can only stare at her. The audacity. The cruelty. The way she says it like she’s asking me to pass the salt.

“You cannot be serious.”

“I am very serious,” she replies. “You are his mate. This tension, this restraint, it is unnecessary. If you give him what he needs, the rest will fall into place.”

“What he needs,” I repeat faintly.

“Yes.” Her voice softens, falsely kind. “An heir.”

Something hot and furious rises in my throat. “So this is it,” I say. “You want me to get pregnant so your other children can stop flickering. So the curse finishes breaking.”

Her jaw tightens. “I want my family whole.”

“And you’re willing to kill me to get it.”

She waves a hand. “You wouldn’t die now. Not immediately. You’re stronger than the others.”

The casual dismissal makes my vision blur.

“And when I do die,” I press, “because we both know that’s what happens. When I give birth and don’t survive it. What then? You raise my child?”

Her eyes light with something like relief. “Of course, I would raise Ronan’s child wonderfully. They would want for nothing. They would be loved.”

I laugh. It comes out broken. “Loved by who? You?”

Her mouth thins. “By this family.”

“You mean by you,” I say. “While I’m in the ground. While my child grows up knowing their mother chose

them last.”

She frowns, as if this is an inconvenience. “You’re being emotional.”

“I’m being human.”

“You are being selfish.”

That does it.

The word cracks something open in me, something I’ve been holding together with effort and hope and the

20:20 Thu, Feb 12 d.

Chapter 40

“You don’t get to decide that,” I manage.

“I do,” she says. “I am his mother.”

“And I am his mate,” I answer. “Not his sacrifice.”

Her eyes harden. “Then you are standing in the way of this pack’s future.”

“I am standing in the way of you getting everything you want.”

She steps closer again, voice dropping. “You will lose him if you don’t give him what he needs.”

I lift my head, tears burning, refusing to let them fall. “He needs me alive.”

She shakes her head, disappointed. “You really are naive.”

“Maybe,” I say. “But I won’t die quietly so you can feel whole again.”

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For the first time, something like anger breaks through her composure. “You think you matter more than generations of suffering?”

“I think my life matters,” I say. “And so does my

child’s.”

Her laugh is sharp. “You won’t even let them exist.”

“I won’t let them grow up without a mother,” I snap. “I won’t give birth just so another woman who despises me can hold my baby and pretend she won.”

She turns away, clearly done. “You should think carefully,” she says over her shoulder. “This pack will not wait forever.”

“And neither will I,” I reply.

She pauses, just long enough to twist the knife one last time. “Ronan will choose blood over sentiment. He always does.”

Then she walks away.

I stand there shaking, the garden suddenly too big, too empty. The bond with Ronan tugs, confused, searching. I don’t let it pull me back yet.

Because if this is the price of belonging here, I don’t know how much more I can bleed without disappearing entirely.

And somewhere deep inside, a quiet, terrible thought takes root.

If this is how his mother speaks when she thinks she’s alone with me…