Chapter Two: The Awakening

Nikita's POV

The morning sun filtered through the heavy drapes, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. I blinked, the remnants of a feverish sleep fading away as clarity returned. My head no longer throbbed, and the fire that had consumed my body had extinguished itself, leaving behind a cool, calming sensation. Tentatively, I touched my forehead—no fever.

I bolted upright, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. Energy surged through me, invigorating my every muscle.

I sprang to my feet, excitement bubbling within me. "Mummy! Daddy!" I shouted, rushing towards the hallway.

My bare feet clattered down the wooden stairs as I darted toward the dining room. The scent of breakfast—crispy bacon, fresh-baked bread, and warm honey—drew me in like a magnet. Pushing open the heavy door, I burst into the room, my heart soaring at the sight of my parents.

"Mummy! Daddy was right! I feel much better!" I exclaimed, my voice echoing through the room.

Mother turned, her deep blue eyes softening with relief. "That's wonderful, darling," she said, her face lighting up with a radiant smile. "I'm so glad you're feeling better."

Father looked up from his morning paper, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I told you it was nothing to worry about, Katarina," he said, his tone confident. It was just a simple fever."

Overwhelmed with joy, I rushed toward Mother, arms outstretched for a hug. Her lavender scent enveloped me as I wrapped my arms around her waist. But then, she let out a sudden, agonising cry of pain.

"Mummy?" I whispered, my eyes widening in horror as she crumpled to the ground, her face contorted in agony.

Panic surged through the room. Father sprang from his chair, his paper forgotten as it fluttered to the ground. "Katarina!" he shouted, his voice drenched in fear and disbelief. "What happened? Katarina, speak to me!"

I stared, frozen in place, my small hands still outstretched toward my mother. Tears welled up in my eyes as I watched Father kneel beside her, his powerful hands struggling to find a pulse or a breath.

He looked up at me, eyes blazing with a mixture of rage and confusion. "Nikita, what did you do?!" he roared, but his question hung in the air, unanswered.

Mother lay motionless on the ground, her once-vibrant eyes now lifeless. I stumbled back, a sob escaping my lips. "I-I didn't mean to," I stammered, confusion and pain overtaking me.

Father's anger seemed to fold into a focus, his eyes scanning the room and then settling on me once more. "Get back, Nikita," he commanded, his voice stern but not unkind. His eyes flickered with something I had never seen before—fear. "Stay away from her."

His words pierced me like a shard of ice. Trembling, I backed away until my back hit the wall. My mind raced with the memory of Dominic's curse, his words echoing like a sinister chant. Could it be true? Had the curse turned me into a monster?

The room seemed to close in around me, the vibrant colours dimming to a grayscale haze as Father gathered Mother's lifeless body in his arms. I watched his strong frame shake as he called for help, his grief cracking the veneer of his cold, powerful exterior.

The pack's members soon filled the room, their murmurs blending into a cacophony of disbelief and sorrow. Mother's body was gently lifted and carried away, leaving an emptiness that seemed to swallow the room. I stood there, a hollow feeling growing in my chest as they all cast wary, questioning glances my way.

Father's voice broke through the noise, commanding and filled with an unspoken promise of vengeance. "Take her to her room," he ordered the nearest beta. "Ensure she does not leave until I say so."

The beta nodded, his expression a mix of wariness and pity as he approached me. "Come, Nikita," he said softly, but I could see the fear in his eyes.

As he led me back up the stairs, the hallway seemed to stretch endlessly ahead, the distance between me and my parents — my father and my dead mother — growing with each step. The warmth and energy that had filled me just moments earlier were now replaced with an icy dread. I couldn't comprehend what had happened, but deep down, a gnawing fear took hold. Was this the curse? 

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I was led back into my room, and the door closed behind me with a soft click. I fell to my knees, hugging myself tightly as sobs wracked my small frame. I was alone, truly alone, for the first time in my young life. Outside, the estate continued to bustle, unaware that the dawn of a dark, cursed prophecy had just begun.

The shadows in my room seemed to grow darker, whispering secrets and fears that I couldn't yet understand. But one thing became clear: nothing would ever be the same again. 

Minutes turned into hours. The darkness outside had deepened, casting long shadows across the room. I sat on the edge of my bed, my little legs swinging back and forth, a sense of impending doom settling like a thick fog around me.

The chill in the air seemed to seep into my bones, making me shiver despite the warmth of the blanket wrapped around my shoulders. I was waiting—waiting for something, anything—that would tell me everything was going to be alright. My small heart drummed loudly in my chest, each beat a countdown to something I couldn't understand.

Finally, the door creaked open. I squinted through the dim light to see Father standing there, his eyes red and swollen from crying. My six-year-old mind struggled to comprehend what I was seeing—Father, the mighty Alpha, reduced to tears.

I jumped off the bed, my feet hitting the cold wooden floor. "Daddy!" I cried, rushing toward him, arms outstretched for comfort. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to—"

"No, Nikita! Stay back!" His voice cracked, a strange mixture of fear and sorrow strangling his tone.

I froze mid-step, my eyes searching his for an explanation I desperately needed. Trembling, my arms fell to my sides. "Daddy, what happened to Mummy?" I asked, my voice small and frightened.

He knelt down, bringing himself to my eye level. For the first time, I noticed how tired he looked—dark circles under his eyes, his face etched with grief. "Nikita," he began, his voice breaking on my name, "you can never touch another person again."

My eyes widened in confusion. "Why, Daddy? I don't understand..."

He looked away, unable to meet my gaze, his hands trembling. "I promise you, my sweet girl, I will figure this out and fix it. But for now, you mustn't touch anyone. It’s for your safety and theirs."

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I tried to blink them away. "Where's Mummy, Daddy? Why can't I see her?"

His silence was a dagger to my heart. He wouldn't look at me, staring at the floor instead. "Mummy is gone, Nikita," he whispered, each word a hammer blow. "She won't be coming back."

The room spun around me. It felt like the world was collapsing, and I was trapped in the middle of it. "But... but I just wanted to hug her. I didn't mean to hurt her."

Father’s eyes finally met mine, and what I saw there frightened me more than anything else—the same fear I felt mirrored in his gaze. "I know, Nikita. I know you didn’t mean to," he said, his voice softening. "But it happened, and we must deal with it."

Devastation washed over me, and I sank to my knees, sobbing uncontrollably. "It's my fault... it's all my fault."

He moved as if to comfort me, then stopped, the fear in his eyes flaring again. He clenched his fists, a battle clearly waging within him. "It’s not your fault, Nikita. It’s the curse—Dominic’s curse." His words hung heavy between us.

The memory flooded through my mind—Alpha Dominic's desperate words, his cursed chant. I could still see Mother's face, twisted in agony, and feel the warmth of her embrace before it turned cold. 

Father stood up, his posture stiff and formal, like he was trying to regain control. "You’re not alone, my child. I will find a way to break this curse. I swear it."

The door closed behind him, leaving me in the suffocating silence. I felt like a prisoner in my own room, in my own skin. Every shadow seemed to whisper my sins and failures. The once warm and golden morning seemed an eternity ago, replaced by a chilling, endless night.

I wrapped my arms around myself, curling into a ball on the floor, reality sinking in. I was dangerous, cursed, and untouchable. My mother was dead. My father was terrified of me. And I was alone—truly, utterly alone.