Chapter 4 The Curse's Whisper

Chapter 4: The Curse's Whisper

Toren Varrick gripped the steering wheel of the black SUV, his knuckles white as he navigated Veyrholt's neon-lit streets.

The city's pulse thrummed through the open window, a chaotic blend of honking taxis, pulsing club music, and the faint howls of rogue werewolves in the distance.

His first day as Lord Calden's driver was already a test of his patience, and the memory of Saria's diary; its pages glowing with that eerie word, Time gnawed at him.

His curse, the primal force tied to the crash that scarred his hands and soul, stirred in his chest, whispering warnings he couldn't decipher. Veyrholt wasn't just a city; it was a trap, and he'd walked right into it.

The estate's garage had been a battlefield of tension hours ago. Elyse's tomboy smirk, her hazel eyes sparking with forbidden love, had lit a fire in him, a fated mates pull that made his curse growl.

But Saria; shy, scarred, and clutching that mysterious diary had unsettled him more.

Her quiet strength, her luna aura, hinted at a hidden identity that Calden's manipulative grip couldn't fully control.

And then there was Alpha Kael Draven, the ruthless werewolf king whose crimson eyes and dangerous attraction had set Toren's rogue instincts on edge.

Kael's taunt; Veyrholt plays by my rules, echoed like a prophecy, and Toren's gut told him the alpha was more than Calden's associate.

His current job was simple: drive one of Calden's men to a meeting downtown. The passenger, a wiry man named Vance with a weasel-like grin, sat in the back, muttering into a phone about "pack dynamics" and "the luna's return."

Toren's ears pricked, his curse flaring at the word luna. Saria, he thought, her sightless eyes and secret diary flashing in his mind. Was she the luna Vance whispered about, tied to Veyrholt's werewolf mythology?

Or was it Elyse, her angelic spark hiding a shadowy past?

"Eyes on the road, Varrick," Vance snapped, his voice sharp. "Calden doesn't pay you to eavesdrop." Toren's jaw tightened, his rogue defiance simmering.

"Just doing my job," he said, his tone clipped. But his mind raced, piecing together fragments; the Calden's controlling deal, Saria's diary, Kael's ruthless presence.

Seven years for Elyse's hand was the bargain, but the eldest daughter's marriage came first. Saria, the substituent bride, was the key, and Toren's curse seemed to know it.

He pulled into the underground lot of a sleek high-rise, its glass facade reflecting Veyrholt's neon glow. Vance slipped out, tossing him a curt nod. "Wait here. This won't take long."

But as the man disappeared into the elevator, Toren's curse surged, a vision flashing through his psyche: a moonlit alley, a woman with a sword, and a city in flames.

The same vision from last night, but sharper, laced with a voice whispering, The luna rises.He shook it off, his scarred hands trembling. The curse was waking, its power tied to Veyrholt's secrets.

He needed answers, and the estate was his only lead. Toren drove back, the SUV cutting through the city's chaos, his thoughts on Elyse and Saria.

Elyse's gamer swagger, her fierce heroine vibe, pulled at him, but Saria's quiet storm; her scars, diary felt like a mystery he was meant to unravel.

Was it revenge driving him, or something deeper, a belated love epiphany he wasn't ready to face?

Back at the estate, Toren parked and headed inside, the wolf carvings on the walls seeming to watch his every move.

He found Saria in a quiet courtyard, her fingers tracing the edges of a stone fountain. Her gray dress clung to her, her scarred face tilted toward the sky as if she could see the stars through her blindness.

The diary was tucked into her belt, its leather cover worn but intact.

"You're back early," she said, not turning. Her voice was shy but edged with a badgirl strength that made Toren pause.

"Job was quick," he said, leaning against a pillar. "You always hang out here alone?"

She smiled faintly, a protective shield in her posture. "It's quieter than my father's games. You should know that by now."

Toren stepped closer, his curse humming. "What's with the diary, Saria? And don't give me that 'secrets are worth keeping' line."

Her fingers tightened on the book, her sightless eyes narrowing. "You're bold for a new driver, flyboy. But you're not wrong to ask."

She hesitated, then pulled the diary out, her voice dropping. "It's a system. Not just a book. It shows things; glimpses of what could be. A future, maybe, or an alternate universe."

Toren's heart thudded, the word Time from the diary's glow echoing in his mind. "Like time travel?" She shook her head, her shy facade cracking. "More like warnings. Veyrholt's built on a curse, Toren. My father's part of it, and so are you."

His curse roared, a primal heat in his veins. "What do you know about my curse?"

Saria's lips parted, but before she could answer, footsteps echoed. Elyse appeared, her hoodie swapped for a fitted jacket, her tomboy edge softened by a nervous energy.

"Saria, Dad's looking for you," she said, her hazel eyes flicking to Toren.

"And you, flyboy. He's got a job tonight."

Toren's gaze lingered on Elyse, a steamy spark igniting. Her presence was a balm and a blade, her forbidden love pulling at him despite Calden's deal. "What kind of job?" he asked.

Elyse's smile was strained, her gamer instincts hiding regret. "The kind that comes with strings. He wants you to drive for a meeting at Moonlit Haven. Someone important."

Toren's gut twisted. Moonlit Haven; where he'd met Calden last night. "Kael Draven?"

Elyse nodded, her expression darkening. "Be careful, Toren. He's very intense."

Saria's hand brushed Elyse's arm, a protective gesture. "Stay out of his way, Elyse. He's not just an alpha; he's dangerous."

Elyse's jaw tightened, a flicker of her shadowy past in her eyes. Toren caught it, his rogue instincts sensing a secret baby of pain she carried. "You know him?" he asked, his voice low.

"Enough to avoid him," she said, but her tone was evasive, a lie wrapped in truth. Toren's curse growled, sensing a power struggle brewing. Kael's crimson eyes, his ruthless aura, were a threat and Elyse's reaction hinted at a dangerous attraction.

As Elyse turned to leave, Saria grabbed Toren's arm, her touch surprisingly strong.

"Don't trust my father," she whispered, her luna aura flaring.

"And don't trust Kael. They're playing a game you don't understand yet."

Toren nodded, his mind racing. Saria's diary, Elyse's secrets, his own curse; it was all connected, a mystical prophecy tying them to Veyrholt's fate. He thought of Calden's manipulative smile, Kael's taunting words, and the vision of a burning city.

Revenge burned in his chest, but so did something else; a need to protect Elyse, and maybe Saria, from whatever storm was coming.

That night, Toren drove to Moonlit Haven, the bar's neon sign buzzing like a warning.

Inside, the air was thick with smoke and tension, rogue werewolves and human dealers mingling in the shadows. Kael sat at a corner table, his crimson eyes locking on Toren as he approached.

Calden was there too, his king-like presence commanding the room.

"Varrick," Calden said, his voice smooth. "Meet your new client. Kael's business is very sensitive. Drive him where he needs to go."

Kael's smile was predatory, his gaze flicking to a photo on the table; a woman with scars, holding a diary.

"The luna's getting bold," Kael said, his tone obsessive. "Let's see how long she hides."

Toren's curse roared, a vision flashing: Saria with a sword, Elyse clutching a glowing diary, and a portal opening to an alternate universe. The image faded, leaving him dizzy, his heart pounding with a truth he couldn't grasp.

As Toren drives Kael into Veyrholt's depths, a faint glow pulses from the SUV's glovebox, where Saria's diary shouldn't be, but is. A whisper echoes, not from his curse, but past betrays, and the future burns.