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CHRONICLES OF THE FLAMEBORNE (THE WEREWOLF'S CURSE)

Precious_Akapo
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Synopsis
She is the last Flameborne. He is the cursed prince who should be her enemy. Kyra’s life burned to ash the night King Zareth’s soldiers slaughtered her family. Now, the last surviving Flameborne witch hides behind a veil of magic, living as a servant within the palace of the man she swore to destroy. Her heart is hardened by vengeance until she meets him. Lucian, the king’s firstborn son, is nothing like his father. Haunted by his own curse as a warewolf, he carries a secret burden a hunger for witch blood that he fights every day. But when he discovers Kyra’s true identity, instead of condemning her, he protects her. Against all odds, an impossible love begins to spark between thema love that could either save them or doom them both. As the kingdom trembles under the shadow of war and blood, Kyra and Lucian must choose between their hearts and their destinies. To break the curse and destroy the tyrant king, they must stand together, even if it means sacrificing the only love.
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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1 – The Witch Hunt

Chapter 1 – The Witch Hunt

The bells of Kyrrath tolled like war drums in the dark.

The sky burned crimson, echoing with the cries of mourning. Acrid smoke from scorched leaves and burning wood mingled with the iron tang of blood. Soldiers clad in blackened steel stormed through the city, dragging witches from their homes, from their hiding places—ripping them from the arms of their families.

"Mercy, please—I'm not a witch, I—"

The plea was swallowed by jeering shouts.

"Shut your mouth, you cursed hag! You'll burn before the moon is high!"

Laughter, harsh and cruel, rang out like shattered glass.

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" The mocking chorus of the crowd ricocheted against stone and flame.

"In the name of our king, Zareth Barethion, first of his name—they must burn!" the Lord Inquisitor cried.

"Yes! Let them burn!" the crowd roared, their voices rising like a tidal wave.

I crouched in the shadowed corridor of my room, trembling, as I watched the soldiers drag my mother outside. My father and siblings were already dead, their blood staining the very stones I now hid upon.

They poured vervain around the house, its poisonous fumes curling like a deathly mist. The sharp, suffocating stench was meant to weaken witches, to strip us of our strength. My mother, already frail from the assault, could barely stand. I wrapped a cloth around my mouth, pressing it tight, trying not to breathe the venomous air as I watched those heartless soldiers drag her to the fire pit.

I wanted to stop them. I wanted to storm outside, to summon fire and burn them all to ash. But even one whiff of vervain would tear me apart. My heart ached so violently I thought it might split in two, and my eyes stung, raw from crying.

They tied her to the stake. They raised the torches.

"No," I whispered.

I moved to run out, ready to die if I must, but a firm hand gripped my arm.

"No, Kyra! If you go out there, they'll kill you, just like they killed everyone else," my friend Laura hissed. Her face was smeared with blood, but she was alive, and for a fleeting second, I felt relief.

"But my mother—she—" My voice broke, my trembling hand pointing toward the fire pit as tears streamed down my cheeks.

The flames roared to life. My mother screamed and then she was silent. Just like that, she was gone. My family was gone. All of them, stolen from me in cold blood.

I clenched my fists so hard that my nails tore through my skin. Warm blood dripped between my fingers.

"Kyra, I know it's hard," Laura whispered, her voice shaking. "I know it's hell. But there's nothing we can do. We need to get out of here before they come for us. Remember, Kyra we must take revenge. If they catch us now, everything dies with us. We have to survive, or there will be no vengeance. We must go. Now!"

She was right.

I was the last of the Flameborne. The last spark of my bloodline still alive for now.

I would not let them snuff me out. Not tonight.

Laura and I ran through the woods, our feet pounding against the earth, each step fueled by fear and desperation. My lungs burned, and a dull weakness spread through my veins, I must have inhaled some of the vervain's poison without realizing it. But I couldn't stop. I didn't have a choice.

We stumbled upon a small cottage hidden deep within the trees, its roof half-collapsed, its walls cloaked in shadows.

"Let's just rest here for a moment," Laura panted, bending over with her hands on her knees. "I need to catch my breath, or my brain will burst."

"We can't stay long," I whispered, glancing nervously back the way we'd come. "The soldiers could be close."

"Just a few minutes," she said between gulps of air. "I don't think I can take another step right now."

"Fine. Just a few minutes," I agreed reluctantly, my voice trembling. I turned in every direction, my senses sharp with terror.

The images of what we had just left behind wouldn't leave me. My family, my mother, my father, my siblings gone in flames and screams. My friends, my neighbors slaughtered like animals. I could still smell the smoke. Still hear the echoes of their cries.

All because of him.

King Zareth.

The tyrant of Kyratth.

His decree had sealed their fate: every witch, along with their families, was to be burned alive. Yes, there were witches in the kingdom who had turned to darkness, but not all of us. My mother, my aunt, myself… we had never used our powers for evil. And yet, the innocent were punished alongside the guilty.

They called us monsters. But the real monsters were the ones who wielded swords and fire in the name of their king.

As we crouched in the shadows of the cottage, a chilling sound shattered the silence, the crunch of boots on dead leaves. My stomach clenched. Fear gripped me so hard I thought I might collapse.

"Aye! I know those witches are hiding deep in the woods," a soldier's coarse voice rang out. "Most of them inhaled the vervain. They can't get far, their bodies will fail them soon enough."

"Check the other side," another soldier barked. "I'll take this way."

Laura and I exchanged a terrified glance. One wrong move, one snapped twig, and we'd be dead.

"What do we do now?" I whispered, my voice trembling, barely audible.

"Uh… I—" Laura's voice quavered. She wiped sweat from her brow, her blood-streaked face pale with terror. "I think… I think we should sneak out the back. Quietly. No sound. Then we run. As fast as we can."

"But the soldiers are everywhere," I hissed, panic clawing at my chest. "How will we even get past them?"

"Kyra, listen," she said sharply, her voice low but fierce. "We have to be smart. We move like shadows. No noise. No mistakes. Or we're dead."

Her words stabbed through my panic. I nodded, swallowing hard. "Okay. Let's go."

We crept to the back of the cottage where a small, half-broken door waited. Every creak of the floorboards felt like a shout. My heart pounded as I slowly pushed the door open. It gave a faint groan, but we slipped through, holding our breath.

Once outside, we ran. We ran like hunted animals, tearing through the trees, lungs burning, hearts pounding. We didn't dare look back. We just ran.

Until—

"Ahhh!" Laura screamed. She collapsed, her leg caught in a cruel iron trap meant for wild beasts. Blood poured from the wound, glistening in the moonlight.

"Laura!" I fell to my knees, my hands trembling as I tried to free her.

"Sir! I hear something! This way!" a soldier shouted from the distance.

Panic surged through me like fire. "No, no, no! Laura, you have to get up. We have to move!"

I reached deep for my magic, desperate to break the trap, but nothing came. The vervain's poison still clung to me, dulling my power. "Not now," I whispered, shaking. "Please, not now. My powers aren't working. Laura, try yours!"

"I… I can't," she rasped, her voice faint. "The vervain… it's too strong." Her face was pale, lips trembling as she fought the pain.

"Laura, please!" Tears blurred my vision. "The soldiers are coming! We have to go!"

She grabbed my hand, her blood-slick fingers gripping me with surprising strength. "Go, Kyra," she said hoarsely. "I can't make it."

"What? No! Don't say that. I'll carry you, I'm not leaving you here!" I hooked my arms under her, trying to lift her.

"Kyra, stop!" Her voice broke, but there was steel in her eyes. "If you carry me, they'll catch us both. One of us has to survive. That has to be you. Go. Don't let them take you. Don't let them end the Flameborne."

Tears burned hot trails down my cheeks. "No… I can't leave you. I can't."

"You can. And you will." Her voice softened, but her gaze didn't waver. "Go, Kyra. Please. Don't you dare look back."

"Goodbye, Laura," I choked, my heart breaking in my chest.

I forced myself to my feet and ran. I ran with every ounce of strength left in me, the wind slicing my face, branches clawing my arms. I didn't look back. I couldn't.

Then—

A scream ripped through the woods. Laura's scream.

And then silence.

They had caught her.

They had killed her.