Chosen By The Cursed Alpha King Novel

034 You Sofetow +25 Bonus You're Safe Now LUCIEN'S POV I don't remember falling asleep. One moment I was staring into the dark, Adele's steady breathing the only anchor keeping me from drifting too far into my own head; the next, the world tilted and I was somewhere else entirely. Cold. So cold it sank straight through skin and muscle and into bone. The kind of cold that made every breath ache in my lungs. I was standing in the cellar, but then I saw myself...the boy I used to be. Small. Barely eight.

Curled tight in the far corner where the stone wall met the dirt floor, knees drawn to my chest, arms wrapped around them like that could stop the shaking. The air smelled of damp earth and rot. Rats skittered in the shadows, bold from hunger. One brushed my bare foot, whiskers tickling, teeth testing. I kicked out weakly; it squeaked and scattered, but others took its place, drawn by the scent of fear and the promise of something weaker than them. I watched myself-really watched-like I was a ghost hovering above the scene.

The little boy's lips were blue, his dark hair matted with sweat and grime. Tears had frozen on his lashes. He didn't cry out loud anymore; he'd learned that noise only brought worse. Heavy footsteps echoed overhead. Slow. Deliberate. Each one landed like a hammer against my ribs even now, decades later. The lock scraped. The door at the top of the stairs kicked open with a boom that rattled the walls. Light spilled down-harsh, blinding after days of darkness-and there he stood. My father. Tall silhouette, broad shoulders filling the doorway. In his hands, a tray.

The smell of bread and stew hit me like a cruel joke, twisting my empty stomach until I thought I'd be sick. He descended the stairs slowly, boots thudding. His face was calm, almost kind. That was always the worst part -the mask he wore before the monster came out. "I'm sure you've learned your lesson by now," he said, voice smooth as oil. "You must be hungry, boy." The child version of me uncurled instantly, hope flickering in eyes that should never have had to hope for basic kindness. He scrambled forward on hands and knees, trembling, desperate.

My father smiled faintly, bringing the tray down like he was going to give me. Then he dropped it. The wooden tray clattered, stew splattering across the dirt, bread rolling into the muck. Chunks of meat scattered among rat droppings. The boy lunged anyway, fingers clawing at the mess, shoving food into his mouth like an animal because that's 1/5 094 Youle Grates Mont +25 Bonus what starvation does-it strips you of everything but survival. I watched him eat off the floor, dirt coating his lips, tears mixing with the grime on his cheeks. And then my father's boot came down. Hard.

Into the boy's ribs. "You pathetic little thing," he snarled, voice shifting into that familiar venom. "Eating off the floor like a dog. Is that what you are? A filthy mongrel who killed his own mother?" Another kick. The boy curled around the pain, a broken sound ripping from his throat. I felt it in my own body-the crack of bone, the explosion of agony, the way the world narrowed to nothing but hurt. The child tried to crawl back to the food, fingers scraping desperately, but another boot caught him in the stomach. He retched, nothing coming up but bile.

"Stop-please-stop-" The boy's voice was small, cracked, pleading. "I'll be good, I swear-stop-" Kick. Another kick. Each one landed with the weight of years, of hatred my father had nowhere else to pour after my mother died giving birth to me. I couldn't move. Couldn't scream. Could only watch as the man I'd become stood frozen, fists clenched so tight my nails cut half-moons into my palms, while the boy I'd been begged on the cold ground. 'Stop.' 'Stop.' 'Stop.' "Lucien." The voice came from far away, soft and warm, cutting through the dark like sunlight through storm clouds.

"Lucien, wake up.' Hands on my shoulders-gentle, careful. Shaking me. I jerked upright with a gasp, chest heaving, heart slamming against my ribs so hard I thought it might break free. Adele. She was kneeling beside me on the bed, eyes wide with worry, moonlight from the window painting silver across her face. Her hands cupped my jaw, thumbs brushing over the stubble there, grounding me. "Are you okay?" she whispered, voice trembling just a little. "You were... you were saying stop. Over and over.

Like you were in pain." 2/5 +25 Bonus Her touch was feather-light, but it burned through the ice still clinging to my skin. I stared at her, trying to pull air into lungs that didn't want to work. Nightmare. That's all it was But it didn't feel like a nightmare. It felt like a memory wearing the skin of a dream. I swallowed hard, throat raw. "I'm fine," I managed, the lie tasting like ash. "Just... a bad dream." She searched my face, not believing me-I could see it in the crease between her brows, the way her lips pressed together. But she didn't push.

"Come here," she murmured instead, shifting closer. I let her guide me back down, my body still shaking with aftershocks I couldn't hide. She didn't ask questions. She just moved into my arms like it was the most natural thing in the world, wrapping her own around my waist, pressing her cheek to my chest. Her warmth flooded through me slowly, chasing away the chill that no blanket ever could. Her hair spilled across my skin, soft and smelling faintly of lavender and her. Her heartbeat thrummed steady against my ribs - calm where mine still raced.

I pulled her closer on instinct, one arm locking around her back, the other sliding into her hair. My lips found the top of her head without thinking, pressing a kiss there. She made a small sound-content, trusting-and burrowed even nearer, her leg sliding between mine, fingers splaying over my heart like she could soothe it with touch alone. And goddess help me, it worked. The cellar faded. The cold receded. The sound of boots on stone dissolved into the quiet rhythm of her breathing.

I held her tighter, burying my face in her hair, breathing her in until the only thing left in the world was this- this small, perfect moment where she chose to stay. My father was dead. I'd made sure of that years ago, the night I finally grew tall enough, strong enough, to end the cycle. He'd never lay a hand on me again. Never lock me away. Never kick me while I begged. But the fear he'd planted? That lived on. Quiet. Patient. Waiting for moments like this to bloom. Adele shifted slightly, tilting her head up. In the dim light I could just make out her eyes, soft and searching.

"You're safe," she whispered, like she'd read every thought I hadn't said. Her fingers traced slow circles over my chest, right above my heart. "I've got you." Something cracked open inside me-sharp and aching and sweet all at once. I didn't deserve this. Didn't deserve her gentleness after everything I'd put her through. But I was too selfish to push her away. I pressed another kiss to her forehead, then her temple, lingering there, breathing her in again. "I know," I said against her skin, voice rough.

"I know." 3/5 You're Safe Now +25 Bonus She settled back down, body melting against mine, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the dark didn't feel quite so heavy. Sleep tugged at me again, slower this time, warmer. Safer. But even as I drifted, one thought lingered-sharp and cold as iron. She still didn't know. She still didn't know why I was so afraid to claim her fully. She still didn't know the curse my father had carved into me with every kick, every cruel word.

And tomorrow...tomorrow I would have to decide whether to keep carrying it alone, or risk breaking her heart all over again by telling her the truth. Comments Support Share 4/5 Editorial Board Editorial Board Our editorial team works behind the scenes to refine each chapter, maintain consistency, and deliver the best reading experience.