Chosen By The Cursed Alpha King (Emilia) novel Chapter 52

The door groaned open before I spoke.

Lucien entered, silent as ever, but I felt the faint tremor of caution that always accompanied him when I was like this. The scent of stone dust and iron still clung to my skin. My muscles ached from the night’s brutal transformation, every breath scraping like broken glass down my throat.

“These walls aren’t strong enough to hold me anymore.” The words slipped out before I could stop them, rough and hollow. My voice sounded foreign-like someone else wearing my skin. “Prepare the underground room. Tell Soraya to use her strongest spells. I want chains I can’t break. No matter how hard my beast pushes.”

Lycien’s jaw tightened, but he bowed without a word. He understood orders, not feelings. Good. Feelings were a disease.

When the door closed, the room felt even smaller. The scent of her still lingered-faint, maddening. Emilia. I hated that she had seen me like this. Hated that she had looked at the beast and not flinched until the very end.

I pressed my palms against the stone wall, nails digging into the cold surface until the skin split. Pain bloomed, sharp and fleeting, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing ever was.

I am the King. I am supposed to be unshakable, untouchable. Yet last night she saw me chained, broken, snarling like a cornered animal. I should have killed her for it. Instead… I froze.

Why?

A shudder ripped through me. Because in those few endless seconds, when my claws hovered inches from her heart, something inside me recognized her. And that recognition terrified me more than the beast ever could.

Minutes stretched like hours before the door opened again. Lucien returned, a heavy robe folded neatly over his arm.

“Your Majesty,” he said quietly, eyes carefully averted. “The underground room is prepared. Soraya is waiting.”

I took the robe without speaking. My body still hummed with the aftershocks of the transformation, every nerve alive with the memory of tearing stone and rending iron. Sliding the rough fabric over my shoulders felt like dressing a wound that would never heat.

Lucien didn’t comment on the blood crusted along my arms, or the faint tremor in my hands. He knew better.

“Let’s go,” I said.

Wę moved through the dim corridors in silence.

The deeper we went, the colder the air became. By the time we reached the iron-bound door of the underground black room, my breath fogged in the chill.

Soraya stood within, a lone figure in the circle of faint, shimmering light she had conjured. Her eyes were closed, lips moving in a low, steady chant that slithered across the air like smoke. Symbols glowed faintly on the floor.

The scent of magic prickled against my skin. My beast recoiled, pacing beneath my flesh.

Soraya’s voice faded. Her eyes snapped open-bright as molten silver-and she turned to face me.

“Your Majesty.” She bowed low, her braid sliding over one shoulder.

The chains are ready. They are enchanted beyond anything you have endured before. You will not be able to break free, no matter how fiercely your beast fights.”Her confidence should have angered me. Instead, it scraped against the hollow inside my chest, a cruel reminder of what I had become: a king who needed spells to keep himself from slaughtering his own people.

I gave a single curt nod. “Leave us.”

Soraya hesitated only a fraction before bowing again and slipping out, her footsteps swallowed by the oppressive silence.

Lucien lingered near the door, but he knew better than to speak. His presence was a weight at the edge of my awareness, steady and infuriating.

Thick chains of blackened iron hung from the ceiling, each link etched with magic that shimmered cold blue when I approached.

i stared at them for a long time.

How many nights had I stood in rooms like this? How many times had! locked myself away, hoping-praying-that the next torment would be the last, that the curse would finally consume me and end this endless cycle of pain?

Too many.

The beast stirred restlessly, pushing against my ribs, testing the invisible boundaries of Soraya’s magic. My chest tightened until breathing felt like swallowing knives.

If I stay, more will die. Innocents. Emilia.

Better to stop myself before the beast claims another life. Better to end it.

A cold calm settled over me, chilling the restless heat in my blood. My decision was a blade sliding silently into place.

But first-

First I need an heir.

A child to carry the line. Someone to inherit the throne, to ensure the kingdom does not fall into chaos when l am gone. My duty demands it, even as my soul withers. Only then can I embrace the only freedom left to me.

Death.

I closed my eyes, letting the silence press against me like a shroud.

The chains glowed faintly, waiting. My beast roared in protest, but I forced it down, deeper, locking it behind every mental barrier I possessed.

Soon, I told it.

Soon it will end.

And for the first time in years, the thought brought not fear, but a bitter, aching peace.

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Okay I cried writing this, my heart aches.