DRAVEN'S POV.
They call me Alpha King. Ruler. Monster. Cursed one. But I suppose names don't matter when everything you touch turns to death.
I wasn't born this way. Once, my hands built kingdoms and my touch brought comfort. I used to believe the warmth of skin against skin meant life…connection. But the Moon took that from me. Now, my touch is a weapon, silent and cruel. They say it's a curse meant for punishment, I say it's justice.
I remember the first time it happened. Her name was Aella. She smiled when she reached for me, unafraid, unknowing. The moment our hands met, the light drained from her eyes, her skin went cold. My curse woke that day, and ever since, death has followed wherever warmth dared to reach me.
I tried everything…witches, healers, blood offerings. The curse only deepened, binding itself into my veins until I could feel the life pulsing beneath my skin like a storm waiting to break. Now, I wear gloves made from wolf hide, blessed under a blood moon. Not for protection…there's no saving anyone from me, but as a warning.
No one touches the Alpha King. Not even by mistake. And yet, they kneel before me, heads bowed, trembling, believing their loyalty will keep them alive.
I can rule nations, but I cannot hold a woman's hand.
The curse has stripped me bare, left me with power that means nothing and loneliness that consumes everything. Sometimes, when the moon is cruel and full, I imagine what it would feel like to touch without killing. To be touched without fear.
But I've learned better than to dream. Dreams are for the living, and though my heart still beats, I have long stopped feeling alive.
"Your majesty."
The voice pulled me back from my thought. I looked up, eyes adjusting to the dim light coming from the hearth. Zayn stood in the doorway…my Beta, my second, my only constant shadow. I hadn't heard him knock. That, in itself, said everything about how far gone I'd been in my thoughts.
"What is it?" I asked, my voice low, and rough with disuse.
He shifted, his expression careful, as though he were stepping across thin ice. "We were supposed to visit that small town near the lake later, my lord. The pack will be waiting for you there."
I leaned back in my chair, exhaling through my nose. "How many times must I tell you?" I murmured. "You always stand in my way when it comes to public gatherings."
Zayn's jaw tensed. "Forgive me, sire, but the wolves expect to see their king. It's been months since you last showed your face outside these walls."
"Then they can keep expecting." I turned my gaze to the window, where moonlight spilled across the stone floor. "They worship an image of me, not the reality. And that image doesn't need a crowd."
"But—"
The door burst open before he could finish.
"Draven! My boy!"
The voice…warm, bright, and utterly unwelcome, filled the chamber.
I closed my eyes briefly, praying to whatever god still tolerated me for patience.
"My Queen," Zayn said quietly, stepping aside with a respectful bow.
My mother swept into the room like she owned it. In truth, she still believed she did. Her silk gown whispered across the floor, gold catching the candlelight. Even after all these years, she looked as flawless as the day she'd first betrayed my father's trust.
"Mother," I said flatly, not bothering to rise. "What do you want?"
"Oh, must a mother want something before visiting her only child?" Her smile was all sugar, all performance. "I came to see you, Draven. You've locked yourself away again. It worries me."
"Does it?" I finally looked up. "Because I find that hard to believe."
Her smile flickered, just for a heartbeat, before returning twice as bright. "You always say such dreadful things. A king should not speak to his mother that way."
"A mother should not come uninvited into a king's chamber."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
Zayn's eyes darted between us, sensing the shift in air. "Perhaps I should—"
"Stay, Zayn," I said without looking at him. "You know how she dislikes witnesses."
My mother's voice sharpened. "Do not twist my words, Draven. You've done enough of that in your life."
I rose slowly. "And you've done enough pretending to care. Spare me the performance. If you've come to remind me of duty, say it and go."
"Duty?" she scoffed. "I've come to remind you that your people are starting to question you. You hide in this castle, whispering to shadows, ignoring your pack. They need to see their Alpha, not some ghost who calls himself king."
I stepped down from the dais, as my boots echoed across the room. "They need a ruler who keeps them alive. Not one who kills with a touch."
Her lips tightened, but she didn't deny it. "You are still their Alpha. Cursed or not, they will follow you until death. Unless, of course, they start to believe their king has grown weak."
"Careful," I murmured, my voice a low growl. "You speak as though you're testing that theory."
She tilted her head, feigning innocence. "Oh, Draven, I'm only trying to help you."
I laughed, a sound too hollow to carry warmth. "Help me? You helped me enough the night you stood by and watched her die."
Her eyes flared, gold glinting through the calm façade. "Do not speak of her," she hissed. "That girl was never meant to touch you. She defied the Goddess's will, she paid the price."
"And you didn't lift a finger to stop it."
For a moment, we stood there, mother and son, ruler and relic, frozen in the heavy silence between us. Zayn shifted uncomfortably, as though the weight of our hatred was something physical.
Finally, she straightened, smoothing invisible creases from her gown. "If you wish to sulk in darkness, do it. But don't expect me to shield your throne when the council begins to doubt your strength. The wolves respect presence, not pity."
"I don't need your protection," I said. "I built this kingdom long before you decided to start playing mother again."
She smiled again, sharp and empty. "Of course. You've always done so well on your own, haven't you?"
With that, she turned and swept out, her perfume lingering in the air…cloying, suffocating, exactly like her. For a long moment, I stood in silence. Then I exhaled slowly.
"Zayn." I called out.
"Yes, my lord?"
"Prepare the horses. We're going to the town near the lake."
He blinked in surprise. "I thought—"
"I changed my mind." I reached for my gloves, tightening them around my wrists until the leather bit into my skin. "If I stay here another moment, she'll come back."
Zayn said nothing, but I saw the faint glint of amusement in his eyes. He bowed once. "As you command."
When he left, I turned back to the window. The moon stared down at me, pale and pitiless. Somewhere beyond the castle walls, laughter drifted from the town…wolves celebrating life, unaware that their king could end it with a touch.
***
The road to the lake was too quiet. Our horses' hooves struck the frozen ground in dull rhythm as mist rolled across the valley. I rode ahead of the escort, Zayn at my side. The cold air bit through my cloak, carrying with it the scent of pine and damp earth. Night here was always alive, you could feel the breath of the land.
"This path feels different," Zayn muttered, his hand resting near the dagger at his thigh.
"Everything feels different when you're expecting trouble," I replied.
He gave a dry laugh. "I've ridden beside you long enough to know that trouble doesn't wait for expectation."
He wasn't wrong. We rode in silence for a while longer, the faint lights of the distant town gleaming like stars beyond the trees. Then, somewhere to the left, we heard a growl. A hungry growl.
Zayn reined his horse sharply. "Wolves," he said as his eyes glowed faintly in the dark.
"I know," I answered, already smelling blood in the wind. "Ours?"
"No. Wild ones. I can't sense their bond."
Before I could respond, a scream tore through the night. It was sharp…human, and so out of place that even the forest seemed to hold its breath.
Zayn's head snapped toward the sound. "That came from the ridge."
I kicked my horse forward. The creature obeyed instantly, hooves pounding through the wet soil as we deflected from the path. Branches whipped against my cloak, and the cold stung my face. The scent of fear grew stronger. I could sense the fear and desperation.
Then, all of a sudden, someone burst from the treeline. A figure stumbled into the open, her dress torn, her hair wild, eyes wide with terror. Her arms were were blood streaked. She nearly fell before catching herself, and when she looked up, her gaze found mine like a prayer.
"Please!" she gasped. "They're going to kill me! I'm being chased by wolves!"
She was human. I could tell instantly…the scent of mortal flesh, the fragile heartbeat that thundered even from a distance. A human? In my domain. That was impossible. Humans never came this far into our lands. Not unless they had a death wish.
Behind her, two massive wolves emerged from the shadows, their eyes gleamed red under the moonlight. They weren't my pack. They were rogues, untamed, starved, and hunting for sport.
"Stay back," Zayn warned, his voice filled with the command of an Alpha. The wolves hesitated but didn't retreat. Hunger burned hotter than obedience.
The girl turned, trembling. "Please…help me. They'll kill me!"
Zayn's hand went for his blade, but before I could speak, she ran. Straight toward me.
"Wait—"
But it was too late. She collided with my chest. Her hands grasped my cloak as her body trembled violently against mine. I froze.
She touched me…
No. No, no. She touched me!!