CURSED FOR LOVE

The night the curse was cast, the moon burned red.

It hung low in the sky, swollen and furious, watching as two great packs clashed against a common enemy in the Valley of Thorns.

The air smelled of blood and iron,wolves howled in pain and victory alike, their roars echoing through the mountains.

Alpha Luca of the Nightfang Pack fought back-to-back with Alpha Ronan of the Silvercrest Pack.

They had been brothers long before the war.

Bound not by blood, but by loyalty. By laughter shared over fire pits and scars earned in the same battles. They ruled neighboring territories, strong, respected, feared. And when the enemy rose,an alliance of rogue wolves protected by dark magic, they rose together.

And they won.

By dawn, the battlefield was silent except for the dying groans of the defeated. The witches hidden within the enemy ranks were dragged out, killed, their bodies falling lifeless into the mud.

All except one.

She crawled from beneath the corpses, her black hair tangled with blood, her hands shaking as she clutched something small to her chest.

A child.

Her daughter.

Dead.

A silver blade lay buried in the girl's tiny chest.

The witch's scream split the air.

The scream of a mother whose soul had been torn open.

Her eyes locked onto the two alphas standing victorious at the center of the battlefield. She didn't need to ask whose armies had slaughtered her coven.

"You took my child," she whispered, blood spilling from her lips.

"You... took... my baby from me," she trembled, grief ripping through every word.

Her eyes lifted, filled with rage and hatred .

"Now I will take what you love most."

For a heartbeat, silence fell.

One of the alphas stepped forward, fury burning through his grief.

"End this," he snarled. "Kill her. Kill everything she's tied to."

But before any of the wolves could get any closer, magic surged from her broken body in a violent wave. The wolves howled as the ground cracked beneath them, shadows twisting unnaturally.

Her eyes, once dark and human, now shimmered like molten silver, flickering with crimson fire and liquid shadows that seemed to crawl beneath her skin. pierced through time itself.

She saw the future.

Two infants.

A boy with storm-grey eyes.

A girl with silver-gold hair.

Fated.

Mates.

The witch smiled, teeth stained red

"Your children will carry my pain," she hissed.

"They will crave each other. Their bond will be irresistible."

The wind shrieked as her magic split the sky.

"And when that craving bears fruit, the girl's womb will become her grave. Neither mother nor child shall draw breath beyond it."

Kael roared, lunging forward but it was too late.

"When she dies," the witch added louder this time , her voice echoing unnaturally,

"the boy will descend into madness. Love and pain of losing will rot him from the inside until he destroys himself... or she destroys him."

The magic snapped.

"No! Soldiers don't let her escape!"

Alpha Ronan surged forward, fury ripping through his voice.

"How dare you curse my child?" he roared. "If you think he will die so easily, you are dead wrong. I will make sure those children never cross paths. They will be separated."

Before any of the wolves could reach her, a violent wind erupted, slamming into the battlefield and throwing them back like leaves.

The witch laughed softly, even as blood filled her mouth.

"Separated?" she whispered.

Her smile widened, broken and knowing.

"Distance won't save them."

In the center, Time seemed to stretch as she raised her blade, slow and deliberate. Her molten silver and crimson eyes met each of them, carrying centuries of rage, grief, and inevitability.

And then she stabbed herself.

The blade slid through her chest with a quiet finality, her body collapsing into the whirlwind she had summoned. The wind howled louder, as if mourning her, carrying the remnants of her magic across the world.

When it settled, silence fell. The alphas stared, horrified. She was gone. Dead. Yet the curse had been cast, the children marked.

For a long moment, no one moved.

Then the alphas understood.

The curse had not been meant to kill the children, it was meant to bind them. To twist fate itself. To ensure that if they ever found each other, everything they loved would burn.

Alpha Luca's hands shook as he wiped blood from his blade.

Not the witch's blood.

The child's.

"We separate them," Alpha Luca said at last, his voice cold with certainty. "Completely."

"No borders," the other added. "No pack ties. No trace."

The decision was final.

The girl was taken first.

Her mother did not argue. She did not plead. She only gathered her child into her arms and ran far enough that the moon felt unfamiliar.

Far enough that the pack's howls faded into memory.

She didn't ask permission.

She didn't look back.

She chose her daughter over the world that had failed her

She raised Liora among humans, burying her wolf deep beneath carefully constructed lies.

And so Liora grew up believing herself human - strange, stronger than the rest, yet unaware of the power that slumbered just beneath her skin.

The wolf slept.

Or so they thought.

They made sure the children never heard each other's names.

Never saw the same moon.

Never crossed the same path.

Years passed. The world changed.

The curse waited.

Liora!"

The shout shattered her sleep.

"Liora, wake up! You're late!"

Liora bolted upright, heart slamming against her ribs, sunlight already flooding the room.

"No-no, no," she muttered, throwing the sheets aside. "First day. Omy God not on the first day."

She rushed into the bathroom and splashed water on her face, barely recognizing the girl staring back at her.

Silver-and-gold hair tangled around her shoulders. Blue-green eyes too bright, too sharp for the little sleep she'd had.

She hadn't dreamed.

At least... She didn't remember dreaming. Normally she wakes up late after having that particular dream

She rushes downstairs, running her fingers through her hair, and grabs a piece of bread from the kitchen counter.

"Morning, Mom," she says between breaths, attempting a quick smile.

Her mother stands by the door, keys in hand, worry etched across her face. "Morning? It's almost eight.

I told you to sleep early," she said, ushering Liora outside.

"I know. I just-couldn't," Liora replies softly

The drive passed in companionable silence. The city stretched awake around them, sunlight spilling across rooftops.

Liora stared out the window.

Her gaze lifted.

The moon still lingered in the pale sky - thin, faded... watching.

A sudden ache pierced her chest, sharp enough to steal her breath.

Liora gasped, fingers digging into her sweater.

Then it vanished.

"You okay?" her mother asked, eyes flicking toward her.

Liora forced a smile. "Yeah. Just nervous."

Her mother nodded. "That's normal. New city. New school."

A pause.

"Just remember our rules."

Liora groaned. "Mom-"

"I'm serious," her mother said quietly. "No parties. No staying out late. And absolutely no boys."

Liora turned to her. "No boys? At a university?"

A smile tugged at her mother's lips. "It worked for me."

"You ran away with Dad to another country."

Her mother laughed - real and warm. "I did."

For a moment, the tightness in Liora's chest eased.

Ravencrest University gates rose ahead - old stone, ironwork darkened with age.

Something inside Liora stirred.

She stepped out of the car.

The air felt different immediately - cooler, heavier, as though the world had shifted without asking her permission.

Her mother squeezed her hand, her grip firmer this time. "Did you bring your pills?"

Liora stiffened.

"Yes," she said quickly, though she didn't meet her mother's eyes.

"Liora." Her mother's voice softened, but the fear beneath it was impossible to hide. "Did you actually bring them?"

A pause. The traffic roared past them, distant and irrelevant.

"...They're in my bag."

Her mother searched her face, as if trying to see past the brave expression Liora was forcing. "You need to take them. The doctor said they'll help with the delusions. And if the dreams get worse - if anything feels real when it shouldn't - you call me. Immediately. I don't care if it's three in the morning."

"They're not delusions," Liora whispered, her jaw tightening. "They feel real."

"I know they do." Her mother's voice cracked slightly. "That's the hard part."

Silence stretched between them, heavy and fragile.

Her mother pulled her into her arms without answering right away. She held her tightly, like she was afraid Liora might drift away if she loosened her . "We keep trying. But you don't go through it alone. Promise me you won't hide it."

Liora's hands trembled as she clutched her mother's coat. "I promise."

Her mother leaned back just enough to look at her. "If the dreams worsen, you call me. No matter what they tell you. No matter what you think you're seeing."

A tear slid down Liora's cheek. "Okay."

Liora nodded.

Reluctantly, her mother let go and walked to the driver's side. She paused before getting in, looking back one last time as if memorizing her daughter standing there.

Then she opened the car door and slid into the driver's seat.

Liora watched as the engine started. The car slowly pulled away from the curb and merged into traffic, growing smaller and smaller.

She stood there long after it disappeared, her hand tightening around the strap of her bag.

Students streamed past her in clusters, voices echoing across the grounds.

She started toward the residence halls.

Too big.

Too new.

She took a wrong turn, doubled back, hesitated between stone paths. Ivy climbed the buildings like grasping fingers.

Then she felt it.

That pull - subtle but undeniable - tightening low in her chest.

Liora slowed.

Her eyes drifted toward the trees bordering the courtyard.

Shadows pooled beneath their branches. No voices. No movement.

Yet her pulse quickened.

She had the strange, unsettling certainty that if she stepped closer...

Something would answer.

Liora forced herself to look away.

She didn't know why this place unsettled her.

Only that something here recognized her

Liora reached the hostel doors at last and stepped inside.

Whatever she had felt in the courtyard, she couldn't put into words - and she forced herself to push it aside.

The room was small but bright, sunlight spilling through a wide window. Two beds sat on opposite sides, neatly made. One side was clearly lived in - books stacked on the desk, clothes folded carefully over a chair.

The other side was empty.

She assumed that would be hers.

Liora set her bag down slowly and walked toward the empty bed, beginning to unpack despite the exhaustion dragging at her limbs. Getting lost in the hallways more times than she cared to admit had drained what little energy she had left.

Lost.

The word echoed through her thoughts.

All her life, that was how she had felt - as though a large part of her was missing. She had tried asking her mother once why she always felt different from everyone else. Why she seemed stronger... faster... than any normal human being.

And her appearance only made things worse. She tried not to draw attention to herself, but she always seemed to fail.

What unsettled her most were her eyes. Sometimes, when she stared too long into the mirror, the blue-green would fade, shifting into a deep shade of red. She constantly told herself it was imagination.

But the reflection never blinked when she did.

"Oh thank God."

Liora turned.

A girl stood in the doorway, arms wrapped around a box that looked far too heavy for her. Dark curls spilled from a messy bun, and she gave Liora the same stunned look people always did when they first saw her.

"Woo... okay, girl," the stranger said, her eyes trailing over Liora in open admiration. "You're really beautiful. I thought they'd assigned me an invisible roommate, but apparently they gave me a goddess."

Liora let out a small laugh. She liked the girl instantly.

The girl shifted the box on her hip, grinning. "But mamasita," she added dramatically, lowering her voice, "you're really late. Orientation is long gone. I was starting to think I'd be living alone and talking to myself for the rest of the semester."

"I know. I overslept," Liora admitted with a sigh. "Great. The first day and I've already failed."

The girl waved dismissively. "Relax. I'll catch you up." She smiled and extended her hand. "I'm Mara, by the way."

"Liora."

"Nice to finally meet you,

Liora-who-survived-the-morning." Mara glanced toward the empty bed. "Window side's yours, by the way. I am not a morning person."

"Deal," Liora said, relieved.

Mara dropped onto her own bed and grabbed her phone. "Okay, what's your major?"

"Literature, history... and business," Liora replied, sliding a notebook into the drawer.

Mara's head snapped up. "Wait - seriously?"

"Yes?"

A grin spread across Mara's face. "No way. I've got Introduction to Ancient Civilizations with you - and Principles of Business Management on Mondays."

Liora paused. "You're joking."

"Nope." Mara laughed. "Looks like we're stuck analyzing empires and profits together."

A small smile tugged at Liora's lips, something inside her chest easing for the first time that day.

"Looks like it."

"Trust me," Mara said, already scrolling through her schedule. "You're going to need a friend. This place is... a lot."

Liora nodded quietly. She had never really had friends.

There was always something that stood in the way - jealousy over her appearance, whispered comparisons, or boys complicating things. Eventually, being alone had felt easier.

Safer.

But as she watched Mara sitting there with an easy smile and boxes stacked awkwardly around her, she wondered if maybe - just maybe - this time could be different.

After finishing unpacking, they left the hostel. Liora made sure her hoodie was pulled securely over her head, silently relieved when Mara didn't question it.

Mara guided her across campus, pointing out lecture halls, hidden shortcuts between buildings, and places she claimed served "edible food if you squinted."

Eventually, hunger won, and they headed toward the cafeteria.

As they walked, Mara began listing rules. "Okay, unofficial survival guide," she said. "Don't sit in the front row unless you like being volunteered. Avoid the west stairwell at night. And if a senior offers to mentor you, ask why."

Liora smiled faintly. "Noted."

Mara slowed just before the cafeteria doors, her voice dropping slightly.

"Okay... one more thing. Whatever you do," she said quietly, "don't go near the Crimson Athenaeum after sunset."

Liora tilted her head. "Why not?"

Mara shrugged, shifting her bag nervously. "It's one of the rules. Seniors told me it's... dangerous. Just trust me, okay?"

Liora nodded

She glanced back once as they walked away, the building looming silently behind the trees.

She didn't know why deep down she felt like there was more to that building

Night settled gently over Ravencrest University, soft enough to hush the corridors but not so deep that it swallowed the world entirely.

In the dormitory, Mara slept, sprawled across her bed, the low hum of her phone charging the only sound beside the occasional creak of the old building.

Liora lay in the quiet of her own bed, staring at the moonlight spilling through the window. Something in the academy felt... heavy tonight, like the air itself was charged. Her body ached with exhaustion from her first day-getting lost in the hallways, dodging the bustling students, trying to memorize faces and rules-but her mind refused to rest.

Eventually, sleep came, pulling her under.

And then the dream arrived.

She was in a forest that stretched endlessly, mist curling around her ankles. The air was sharp and cold, pressing against her skin. Moonlight barely touched the twisted branches overhead, leaving the ground beneath her feet in shadow. The silence was absolute-so deep it seemed to hum inside her skull.

Then she saw it.

A wolf.

Its fur was pure white, like fresh snow under moonlight, and its eyes burned a deep, sorrowful red. It stood several feet away, its gaze fixed on her, ancient and impossible to ignore. Liora's chest tightened. She wanted to step forward, to reach for it, but her feet refused to move, held fast by some invisible force.

And then she heard it.

Inside her mind:

Wake me up.

The voice was soft, trembling, yet somehow desperate.

You have to wake me up.

Liora's throat went dry. "How...I... I can't," she whispered aloud, though the words sounded absurdly small against the vast, cold forest.

The wolf stepped closer, mist parting around its paws. Its eyes reflected centuries of longing, loss, and sorrow. Liora's heart thumped so hard she thought the dream might crush her from the inside.

Wake me... before they come.

Her stomach turned. The urgency in its voice made the hairs on her arms stand on end. She tried again to move, to reach it-but the dream would not let her.

And then it vanished.

Liora bolted upright in her bed, gasping, sweat clinging to her skin.

Shaking, Liora swung her legs over the side of the bed and crossed to the table where a bottle of water waited. The cool liquid calmed her throat and heart, though the memory of the wolf lingered like a distant ache.

She glanced out the window, her gaze lingering on the courtyard below. She didn't know why she always had the same dream.

Moonlight kissed the stone buildings, and somewhere in the distance, the Crimson Athenaeum rose, dark and silent, its walls sharp and imposing even under the pale light.

And then.

Movement flickered near its

shadowed entrance. Liora blinked.

Figures-students, she was certain-emerged from the paths between the trees. They didn't rush. They didn't hide. They walked with quiet purpose, converging toward the Athenaeum's doors.

One. Two. More.

The doors swallowed them one by one.

A chill ran down Liora's spine. Mara's warning earlier echoed faintly in her mind: Don't go near the Crimson Athenaeum after sunset.

Her fingers tightened around the water bottle. Whatever was happening inside that place... it wasn't accidental.

She stepped back from the window but didn't close the curtains. The shadows of the Athenaeum seemed to stretch toward her, and deep in her chest, a pull tugged-subtle, inexplicable, and strangely familiar.

Liora shook her head. It's just... instinct, she told herself. Yet she couldn't shake the feeling that someone-or something-was already waiting for her, even if she didn't know why.