Chapter 7 Cursed

The stale air inside the packhouse hung heavy, a mixture of frustration and desperation. Cypress paced the room like a caged animal, his dark mood radiating outward and keeping everyone at bay-everyone but Finn.

"You're going to wear a hole in the floor," Finn said, arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe.

Cypress stopped abruptly, shooting him a glare. "You think this is funny?"

"No." Finn's expression remained neutral. "But you pacing won't solve the problem either. I know someone who can help."

"And you waited until now to mention this?" Cypress snapped, his voice laced with irritation.

Finn shrugged. "You were too busy tearing apart everything in sight to listen."

Cypress clenched his fists, jaw tightening. He hated feeling out of control, and that's exactly what this problem was doing to him. He had blacked out and killed someone. Someone in his pack. The memory-or lack of it-was eating away at him.

"Fine," Cypress said, his voice low and tight. "Let's go. But if this witch of yours wastes my time-"

"She won't," Finn cut in, his tone firm.

Without another word, the two of them left the packhouse, the tension between them thick enough to cut.

The journey to the witch's dwelling was silent. Cypress preferred it that way. He wasn't in the mood for small talk, and Finn seemed to sense it. When they reached the outskirts of the forest, a crooked path led them to a small, dilapidated hut surrounded by withered trees.

"This is it," Finn said, stepping aside to let Cypress lead.

Cypress shot him a skeptical look but pushed the door open without hesitation. The interior was dimly lit, the scent of herbs and smoke filling the air. A figure moved in the shadows, and a woman with sharp facial lines and piercing eyes stepped into the light.

"So," she said, her voice a mix of amusement and intrigue, "the mighty Cypress comes to me for help."

"I don't have time for games," Cypress growled, his eyes narrowing.

The witch smirked. "You're here because you've already lost control, haven't you? Killed someone you didn't mean to."

Cypress stiffened, but he didn't deny it.

"I thought so." She turned her back to them, moving to a table covered in vials and strange objects. "Tell me, Cypress, do you know what you are?"

"I'm an alpha," he said through gritted teeth.

She chuckled darkly. "You're much more than that. You're a descendant of lycans."

The room fell silent, her words hanging heavy in the air.

"That's impossible," Cypress finally said. "Lycans are myths."

"They're myths to those who don't know the truth," the witch replied, turning to face him. "But your blood doesn't lie. You're not just a wolf. You're something far older, far more dangerous."

Finn shifted uncomfortably, but Cypress stayed still, his expression unreadable.

"And the killing? " he said, his voice low. "What is it?"

The witch's gaze darkened. "It was a curse laid on you by someone you killed. Her last breath carried more than just her hatred-it carried power. A curse that binds you to your worst nature."

Cypress frowned, his mind racing. He had killed countless people. How could he possibly know which one had done this to him?

"You can't remember her, can you?" the witch asked, as if reading his thoughts.

"I've killed too many to count," Cypress admitted, his voice cold. "It could've been anyone."

The witch nodded. "That's the price of your violence. But if you want to break this curse, you'll have to find another way."

"How?" Cypress demanded, his patience wearing thin.

The witch picked up a small vial, swirling its contents as she spoke. "The curse was laid by a life you took. It can only be broken by the life you're destined to love."

Cypress's expression darkened. "What are you talking about?"

"Your mate," the witch said simply. "Her love-and her blood-are the keys to breaking your curse."

Cypress barked a bitter laugh. "You're joking. My mate? The one I rejected?"

The witch's eyes flashed. "Fate doesn't care about your pride, Cypress. If you want to be free of this curse, you'll have to humble yourself. Win her love, and use her blood."

"And if I don't?"

"Then the curse will consume you. You'll lose control more often. You'll kill more indiscriminately. And eventually, it won't be just others who suffer-it'll be you."

Cypress fell silent, the weight of her words settling over him.

Finn, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke. "There has to be another way. Isn't there?"

The witch shook her head. "This is the only way. The bond between mates is powerful. Stronger than any curse."

Cypress's jaw clenched, his frustration boiling over. "I rejected her. She won't help me."

"That's for you to figure out," the witch said, her tone indifferent. "But you'd better hurry. The curse won't wait for you to get your act together."

Cypress turned, storming out of the hut. Finn followed, his expression a mixture of concern and determination.

Back outside, the cool night air did little to calm Cypress's anger.

"Finn," he said, his voice sharp.

"Yes?"

"Do you still know where she is?"

Finn hesitated. "She's... not where you left her."

"What do you mean?" Cypress stopped, his eyes boring into Finn.

"I couldn't sell her," Finn admitted. "I helped her escape. She's in a village far from here."

Cypress's eyes flared with fury. "You disobeyed me?"

"I did what I thought was right," Finn said, meeting his gaze. "And it turns out I was right. You're going to need her now."

Cypress let out a low growl but said nothing. His mind was already spinning, trying to figure out his next move.

"Do you want me to take you to her?" Finn asked after a moment.

"Yes," Cypress said through gritted teeth. "But if she refuses to help me-"

"Then that's on you," Finn said bluntly. "You rejected her, Cypress. If you want her help, you'll have to earn it."

Cypress didn't respond, but the determined look in his eyes said everything.

For the first time in a long time, Cypress wasn't sure if he could win.