Chosen By The Cursed Alpha King (Emilia) novel Chapter 256

< 111 I’m Not Your Son

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111. I’m Not Your Son

LUCIEN’S POV

“There you are, son.”

My father’s voice slithered through the dim cellar like poison, casual and mocking. He stood there, smirking like we were old friends bumping into each other at the market-not like the man who’d spent my entire childhood turning my life into a living hell.

He looked even more like the monster I remembered. Older, yeah-silver threading through his dark hair, deeper lines etched around his eyes and mouth-but that cold, hateful gleam in his brown eyes hadn’t changed. If anything, it burned brighter, sharper, like time had only fueled the fire

inside him.

“Don’t call me that,” I said, voice low and steady, even though every muscle in my body screamed

to lunge.

He laughed-short, bitter, the sound bouncing off the damp stone walls like nails on glass. “I thought you’ve always wanted that. Begged for Daddy’s attention.”

The words hit like a gut punch, dragging up memories I’d buried deep.

The cellar smelled like mold and earth, the air thick and heavy, pressing down on me. Just being

here-standing in this godforsaken hole-brought it all crashing back. The starved boy shivering in the corner, chains biting into his wrists. The boy who’d begged for scraps of food, for a kind word,

for anything from the man who was supposed to protect him. But that boy was dead. Buried. I was a man now. A beta. A mate. A father. I had to protect them. All of them.

I tore my eyes from him, locking on Adele.

She was tied to that rickety chair, ropes digging into her wrists. Her hair was messed up, a red

mark blooming on her cheek. But her eyes-those fierce, shining eyes-met mine without flinching.

Pleading, yeah, but strong. Trusting me to get her out of this.

My chest ached.

I turned back to him, forcing my voice calm. “Let her go. Or I swear, I’m going to make your second death even more painful. Since you didn’t die the first time, I can arrange for the second.”

He just looked at me-like I was nothing. Like I was still that scared kid. His eyes filled with so much hate it twisted something deep inside me. The hate hadn’t faded. If anything, it had grown-

festered over the years, turning into this black, endless void.

The tension in the room was thick, suffocating-the air heavy with the drip of water from the

ceiling, the faint metallic tang of blood, the way every breath felt like it could be the last.

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* 111 I’m Not Your Son

Harrison shrugged, casual as ever. “You think you can kill me again? You couldn’t even do it right

the first time.”

I took a step forward-slow, deliberate. My wolf clawed at the surface, fur bristling in my mind, ready to shift and tear him apart. But I couldn’t. Not yet. One wrong move, and that knife he had

glinting in his hand could end everything.

“Don’t even dare,” he said, voice dropping low. His free hand tangled in Adele’s hair, yanking her

head back. She gasped, eyes squeezing shut for a second, but she didn’t scream.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

My heart slammed against my ribs-hard, painful beats that echoed in my ears. The room felt smaller, the shadows longer, closing in like fingers around my throat. Adele’s face-pale, bruised, but defiant-tore at me. This was my fault. All of it. My past dragging her into the darkness. My father-alive, somehow-using her to finish what he started with me.

Harrison’s smirk widened. “Good boy.”

I hated that phrase. Hated how it pulled me back to being small, worthless, starving for approval

that never came.

“Let her go,” I said again, voice shaking now despite myself. “She has nothing to do with this.”

He tilted his head, like he was considering it. Then he laughed-cold, empty. “Nothing? She’s

exactly why we’re here. You thought you could have this? Happiness? A mate? After what you did to me? To your mother?”

The mention of her hit like a fresh wound. “Don’t you f*****g get tired of blaming me? Have you

ever-for once-asked yourself what if you didn’t give my mother enough care and support during her pregnancy? What if that’s why she died? Instead, you blamed a child who had no idea what was going on. A child who didn’t even ask to be born!”

Adele’s voice cut through the tension-strong, fierce. “Hey-if you didn’t come into this world, where would I find my mate?”

Her words pierced the haze. I looked at her, and despite everything-the ropes, the knife, the fear- she managed a small, defiant smile. Goddess, I loved her. Even here, in hell, she was fighting. For

1. For us.

If the situation wasn’t life or death, I might have laughed.

But Harrison’s face twisted-vicious, ugly. He yanked harder on Adele’s hair. She screamed-sharp,

pained, the sound ripping through me like claws.

He leaned down, knife glinting in the dim light, pressing it close to her throat. “Scream,” he hissed.” Yes-let him hear you scream. Just like I heard my mate scream when that bastard came into the

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111. I’m Not Your Son

world.”

Adele gasped, eyes wide. “f**k you, bastard!”

He pulled her hair even harder, exposing more of her neck. The blade hovered-silver, deadly, catching the faint light like a promise of pain.

I growled, my wolf surging forward. “You’re sick in the head!”

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The tension was unbearable-thick, electric, every second stretching into agony. My hands shook at my sides. I wanted to shift, to lunge, to end this. But I couldn’t. The knife was too close. One

twitch, and she’d bleed out. I’d lose her. Forever.

Adele’s scream cut through again-raw, desperate. “He’s Andrea’s dad, Lucien! This sick bastard!”

She already knew.

Harrison just smiled-cold, triumphant. “You see this knife?” He twirled it slowly, the blade whispering against Adele’s skin without cutting. Yet. “A slow killer. All I have to do…”

He made a small motion-pressing just enough to draw a thin line of blood.

Adele hissed in pain.

My vision tunneled.

“…is this. And she’ll scream. And you’ll watch her bleed out. Right in your arms.”

The room spun.

My breath came in short, harsh gasps.

“I’m the one you hate,” I said, voice breaking. “Leave her out of this.”

He shook his head slowly, eyes gleaming. “She’s exactly who I want.”

I clenched my fists so hard my nails drew blood. Rage boiled through me-hot, blinding. I wanted

to tear him apart. Piece by piece. But I couldn’t move. Couldn’t risk it.

Adele’s eyes met mine-pleading, strong. ‘Fight,’ they said. ‘For us.’

I put my hands up-slow, like approaching a wild animal. “You need to stop this madness. You need to move on. Even if you hate me… what about Andrea?”

Harrison laughed-harsh, mocking. “Andrea didn’t kill his mother. Like you did.”

My jaw clenched. The old guilt surged up-bitter, familiar. But I shoved it down.

“You’re a killer.”

The words hung there.

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Thick silence followed.

The air felt heavier, the drip of water louder, every shadow deeper.

Harrison’s smile faded.

“You know why I didn’t kill you all those years?” he said quietly. “It would have been too easy. I

wanted you old enough to feel the pain. Or I would have sent you back to hell.”

He raised the knife-slow, deliberate.

My heart stopped.

“This is poisoned,” he said, voice like silk over steel

Poisoned.

The word echoed.

I lunged forward…a step, just one…desperation overriding everything.

Harrison growled. “Take one more step closer, and ‘ll skip to the good part.”

I froze.

Again.

My heart slammed against my chest-wild, frantic.

The tension wrapped around us-thick, unyielding, suffocating.

Harrison smiled again, tilting his head like we had all the time in the world.

“Want to know how I’m still alive?”

The question hung there, dangling like bait.

I didn’t answer.

But inside, the storm raged.

How?

How had the monster come back from the grave?

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