Blood Between Worlds: Her Curse, He's Throne

Name: Blood Between Worlds: Her Curse, He's Throne
Rating: 5.0 (1 reviews)

Riri_A

Werewolf | Ongoing

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She was never meant to survive the attack. She was never meant to cross the bridge... And yet, she did. Alexa was just another invisible soul in a crowded human world, working late shifts, dodging heartbreak, and scraping through rent with her loud, loyal roommate by her side. Magic? Destiny? Royal bloodlines? That stuff belonged in books. Not in her life. Until the night she was hunted. Dragged into the shadows by beasts that weren't supposed to exist, Alexa's world is split open by claws and blood. And just when death seemed certain, he appeared. Zevarn, fierce, silent, cloaked in dark magic and secrets, pulls her across a bridge of living force into a realm of monsters, thrones, and curses older than time. A realm where her very existence is a threat. She's no ordinary girl. He's no ordinary Alpha. And what binds them together might destroy everything. But as war simmers and the truth claws its way to the surface, Alexa will have to decide: Is she a mistake that should've died... ...or the spark that was meant to set fire on the throne.

Fantasy Curse Attractive Alpha Royalty Magical Arrogant/Dominant Mediaeval Romance Werewolf

Chapter 5 The Woman And The Walls

The day before yesterday 23:56

Chapter 1 Just Another Tuesday

Alexa's Pov

There was nothing special about today.

Just a terrible shift at a terrible job, a backache from standing too long, and a reminder that my life wasn't exactly unfolding into a thrilling, destiny-filled journey.

It was Tuesday.

Which meant laundry day, instant noodles, and a closing shift at PriceCart, the grocery store equivalent of hell on Earth.

I slammed my locker shut with a sigh and adjusted my hoodie.

"Girl, you look like you fought a demon in aisle five," Barry said, appearing in the doorway with his usual dramatic flair. He worked the afternoon shift and somehow always looked refreshed. Must be witchcraft.

"I did," I said. "Her name was Linda, and she asked me to restock the bleach shelf again. You know, the cursed one that tries to kill me every week."

He gasped. "That shelf is out for blood."

"Mine, apparently."

Barry leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes twinkling. "Come home fast. I made that spicy noodle thing you like."

I groaned. "I love you."

"I know. Now go be an exhausted goddess."

The store lights buzzed as I made my way out. It was late, probably past ten, and the parking lot was already empty. The street beyond flickered under a faulty streetlamp, casting weird shadows that danced across the sidewalk.

I pulled my hoodie tighter and started walking.

My route home wasn't long, just a few blocks, a shortcut through the alley behind the store, then through the old park path that led to my street. It was quiet. The kind of quiet that normally meant peace.

But tonight... it felt off.

Not terrifying. Not loud.

Just... wrong.

It started with a chill.

Not a breeze. Not wind. Just this still, creeping cold that didn't touch my skin, iìit settled deeper, like something sitting behind my ribs.

I stopped walking for a second and looked around.

Empty street. Faint city sounds in the distance. A car horn somewhere far away. Nothing out of the ordinary.

So why did it feel like the sidewalk was holding its breath?

I shook it off.

I'd had a long day.

Linda had yelled at me for misplacing shelf labels, a customer tried to pay with expired coupons and called me a "grocery goblin" when I refused, and a kid vomited in front of the freezer aisle. I'd slipped in it.

Yeah. Definitely just exhaustion.

I kept walking, passing the alley where the trash bins overflowed, then down the side street lined with flickering lights. It wasn't exactly scenic, but it shaved five minutes off my walk.

The shortcut took me past the edge of the city, toward a patch of old trees where the land hadn't been developed. There was an old bridge just past it, but it had been blocked off for years. I always avoided that part.

But tonight, I heard something behind me.

Soft. Not quite footsteps. More like... something brushing against the ground.

I stopped.

Turned around.

No one.

I frowned.

Then kept walking,faster now.

The feeling didn't go away.

If anything, it got stronger.

That pressure in the air. Like the night itself was watching me. My hands felt cold inside my hoodie. My ears rang.

I took out my phone. No service.

I looked behind me again. Still nothing.

But I could feel it now.

Something was wrong.

That's when I heard the growl.

Low. Deep. Not a dog. Not a person.

Something else.

I froze. My heart jumped into my throat.

The growl came again, closer this time.

I ran.

I didn't think. I didn't breathe.

I just ran.

Down the path. Through the trees. Away from the sound, from the chill crawling up my spine, from the feeling that something wrong had slipped into my world and was now chasing me down.

I could hear it behind me.

Fast. Heavy.

Something with claws.

I didn't dare look back.

My lungs burned. My legs screamed. My mind was blank except for one word: run.

I stumbled through the trees, past the edge of the blocked-off road where the old bridge sat like a ghost from another time.

Why was I heading there?

I didn't know.

It was like my feet chose for me.

The creature growled again, closer now. I tripped over a root, hit the ground hard, dirt scraping my palms.

I turned over, expecting teeth, claws,death.

Instead, something else came out of the dark.

A blur of black.

It hit the creature mid-air, throwing it sideways with a snarl so loud it echoed through the trees.

I gasped.

The second figure turned slowly, rising to full height.

He was tall. Broad. Shadows clung to him like they belonged there. A long coat swept the dirt behind him as he stepped forward, blocking me from the thing now crawling back onto its feet.

He looked down at me.

His eyes, silver. Unnatural. Burning.

My breath caught in my chest.

"Get up," he said, voice low, rough.

Not a question.

I did.

Not because of the words.

But because of the way he said them.

It was English, but not quite. There was a lilt to it, something almost melodic, but sharp at the edges. Like each syllable carried weight it shouldn't. Like his mouth wasn't used to shaping these kinds of words.

The accent didn't belong anywhere I knew. Not local. Not European.

Just... wrong.

Like the voice of a shadow trying to be human.

"I-what is-" My voice cracked.

"Now."

I moved before I understood why.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the old bridge.

I looked back, just once. The creature was rising, eyes locked on me, breath heavy, body shaking with fury.

"What is that?" I whispered, heart pounding.

He didn't answer. He just looked at me with those impossible eyes.

"Wrong question," he said. "You should be asking why it wants you."