Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 297: Maybe I’m Cursed

Chapter 297: Maybe I’m Cursed

Nova’s POV

I used to think monsters were just things from bedtime stories. Shadows lurking under beds. Eyes in dark closets. Something to be dismissed with a nervous laugh and a flick of the light switch.

But when you’ve seen a vampire snarl inches from your face, with its jagged nails already soaked in your blood... well, the bedtime stories don’t seem so fictional anymore.

What terrified me most wasn’t even the vampire. It was them. Eldur. His father. The way they didn’t just defeat the monster—they destroyed it. Unflinching. Silent. And so merciless that even the shadows seemed to recoil in fear.

Eldur had held me like I was the only fragile thing left in the world. His hands had trembled against my skin when he healed me, his silver eyes glassy with rage and something else—something deeper. But after the vampire... after his father turned that creature into nothingness with nothing more than a thought...

I couldn’t breathe.

I hadn’t been able to breathe since.

The worst part wasn’t the fear. It wasn’t the blood or the magic or the sound of bones being crushed mid-air. The worst part was the guilt.

Because I saw it—I saw the way Eldur looked at me. I saw what he was willing to become just to keep me safe. He who the world already feared. And I had made it worse. I was the reason his hands were soaked in blood that night. The reason his parents came storming into a scene no parent should witness.

He did it for me.

And for what?

For a girl who couldn’t even look him in the eye after it.

Because when I did, all I could think was, I’m the reason you had to be that person.

Maybe... maybe I am bad luck.

Maybe that’s why my mom left. She saw it in me. That darkness. That emptiness. She didn’t just walk away from my dad—she walked away from me. Maybe that’s why my dad couldn’t stand being in the same house as me unless he was drunk enough not to notice I existed.

And now... Eldur.

What if I was ruining him too?

So I stayed. Not because I thought I was good for him. But because I was selfish. Because leaving him felt like trying to tear out my own heart. Because somehow, despite everything I felt, despite how heavy the silence was between us—I still wanted to be near him.

A week passed. School resumed.

And I was still broken.

Wrapped in my thickest scarf and a hoodie that still smelled like his cologne, I stared out the bus window while Eldur sat beside me. I knew he was watching me. He always was now. Watching me like he was trying to read my thoughts. Like he was trying to find me again.

I wasn’t gone.

I was just... lost.

In the hallways, he’d pull my hand into his like it was instinct. He’d open doors. Walk me to class. Carry my bag even when I protested. He even handed me a cup of hot chocolate before class with a sheepish look on his face.

"I added three marshmallows," he muttered. "Because last time, you said two wasn’t enough and four was overkill."

I looked at him.

His eyes were too bright. Too eager. Like a child trying to fix something he didn’t break.

I gave him the tiniest smile I could manage. "Thanks."

He grinned like I’d just handed him the moon.

But the truth was—none of it worked.

Not the hot chocolate. Not the flowers he randomly left in my locker. Not the time he tried to braid my hair (horribly) while we watched reruns of vintage cartoons.

I could see the frustration building in him.

He didn’t say anything. Eldur never complained. But sometimes I’d catch him in the mirror, staring at himself like he didn’t recognize the man he was trying to become for me.

I was doing that to him.

And the worst part?

I couldn’t stop it.

Not even when something new started to happen.

Something terrifying.

It began three nights ago. I was brushing my hair before bed when I noticed a small, dark mark near my shoulder. At first, I thought it was a bruise. But it pulsed. Like it was alive beneath my skin. Like something ancient was waking up.

I touched it.

And felt... something.

A whisper. Not in words. Just a feeling. Like ice. Like hunger. Like I didn’t belong to myself anymore.

I’d jolted back so fast I knocked over the lamp.

Lara burst into the room, half-asleep and holding a hairbrush like a weapon. "What happened?! Did a raccoon break in?! Is it Eldur again? Is he climbing in through the window? Because if I see his smug hotness one more time during my midnight pee breaks, God help him. I seriously don’t know how he always gets in when the door and windows are all locked! I swear if—"

"Lara," I croaked, clutching the blanket to my chest. "It’s nothing. Just a weird dream. Go back to bed."

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You sure? Because I will throw hands with any supernatural raccoons or overly dramatic boyfriends."

I nodded weakly.

She shrugged and padded off, muttering about "paranormal drama queens."

But I couldn’t sleep that night.

Because the mark pulsed again.

And I felt something in me stir.

Something that wasn’t... me.

I didn’t tell Eldur.

How could I?

He was already breaking himself into pieces trying to be softer—gentler—for me. Already drowning in guilt for every time he had to become the monster the world feared... because of me.

If he knew something was changing in me—something strange, something even he might not be able to fix...

Would he burn the world down just to save me?

Would he become that nightmare again—for someone who only brings chaos into his life?

So I stayed quiet. Bit my tongue. Pretended everything was fine.

Because the truth? I was scared he’d love me enough to destroy himself.

And I couldn’t let that happen—not even when the dreams began.

I was crashing at Eldur’s place again when they returned. Dark, vivid, too real to just be dreams.

A silver forest. Wolves howling like the moon itself was bleeding. And something ancient—something wild—stirring deep in my chest like a forgotten fire.

It whispered in a voice that didn’t sound human.

"You are not what you think you are."

I woke up drenched in sweat each time.

Eldur noticed. Of course he did.

He pulled me closer one morning as I stood by the kitchen sink, pouring cereal I wasn’t going to eat.

"Nova," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "Please. Just tell me what’s hurting you."

I stared at the floating Cheerios.

Then at his face.

And something broke.

"I don’t want to break you," I whispered.

He blinked. "What?"

"I feel like... like ever since I came into your life, everything’s been darker. Harder. You’ve had to kill. You’ve had to protect me over and over again. And for what? For me?"

His hands gripped my shoulders, gently but firmly.

"For you," he echoed. "Yes. Always for you."

I shook my head, tears slipping down my cheeks. "I think I’m cursed. I think I ruin people. I think maybe... maybe if I wasn’t here, your life would be—"

"Stop."

His voice wasn’t loud.

But it was final.

His eyes burned with something fierce and unshakable.

"Don’t you ever say that again. Nova, you didn’t ruin me. You saved me. Before you, I was just... fire. Anger. Power without a soul. But you—"

He broke off, shaking his head like he couldn’t find the words.

"You made me want to be better. You made me feel like I could deserve something good."

I stared at him, heart thudding.

"Then why do I feel like I’m going to be your undoing?" I whispered. "Why does it feel like I’m slipping away from myself—like who I am is starting to vanish?"

He froze.

Not just still—motionless, like the breath had been yanked from his lungs.

"What are you saying?" he asked, voice tight.

I hesitated, fingers trembling as I reached for my collar. Slowly, I tugged it down, just enough to reveal the strange mark etched into my skin.

It shimmered faintly, almost alive, like it recognized him. Like it was responding.

Like it remembered him.

Eldur’s eyes locked onto it—and something in him changed.

The color drained from his face. His posture shifted. The guarded calm he always carried shattered in an instant.

He reached out, hesitant, as though touching me might burn him. His fingers brushed the mark, and a shiver raced down my spine.

"Aethros..." he breathed, barely audible.

My pulse spiked. "What is it?"

He looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time—and he wasn’t sure if he should be afraid or in awe.

"That’s not a curse, Nova," he said, voice low, reverent. "It’s a bond. That mark... it’s old. Vampire magic. The kind we thought was long gone. Ancient. Powerful. Sacred."

He swallowed hard.

"It means something inside you is waking up."

I stared at him, stunned. My mouth opened, but no sound came out at first.

"You mean I’m...?"

"I don’t know," he cut in gently. "Not yet. But we can’t wait around to find out. I need to get you to my father. Now."

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