BORN OF BLOOD AND CURSE“

Born of Blood and Curse – The Lycan Chronicles

Copyright © 2026 by Misspaulina

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

All characters, names, places, and incidents in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, real gods, or actual events is purely coincidental.

The forest was still.

It wasn’t the peaceful silence of a place devoid of life. It was the heavy, loaded silence that told a hunter something was lurking somewhere in the shadows.

Lycaon loved this silence.

Out here, he wasn't a king.

He wasn't a ruler before whom men bowed and women lowered their voices. He wasn't the man who had to wake up every morning to make agonizing decisions about war, trade, and the lives of his people.

Here, he was simply a hunter.

He slipped the bow off his shoulder and knelt into the damp moss.

Before him, a barely visible trail cut through the undergrowth.

A stag.

Large.

A stag of a beast.

And the tracks were fresh.

Lycaon smirked.

"You're late."

A voice behind him made him whip around instantly.

He hadn't heard her coming.

That alone was remarkable.

A woman stood between the ancient trees. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders like liquid gold, and in her hand, she held a silver bow. Her attire was meant for a trek through the wild, not for a palace. Leather, rugged fabric, and a short cloak draped over it.

Yet, Lycaon knew immediately who stood before him.

Any mortal would have recognized her.

Artemis.

Goddess of the Hunt.

Daughter of Zeus.

Mistress of the Wild.

And one of the most powerful goddesses ever to grace Olympus.

Lycaon rose slowly to his feet.

"I didn't know goddesses could be late."

A barely visible smile played on her lips.

"And I didn't know mortal kings could be so arrogant."

"Then I suppose we both learn something new today."

Artemis evaluated him, her gaze lingering. Then, she looked down at the tracks in the soil.

"You found him."

"Of course."

"You sound very certain."

"I know these woods."

"So do I."

"Then I guess we have a problem."

Artemis raised a delicate eyebrow.

"What kind of problem?"

Lycaon pointed toward the trail.

"Only one of us gets the stag."

For a heartbeat, Artemis said nothing. Then, she smiled.

"A competition?"

"A hunt."

"You do realize I am a goddess?"

"I haven't forgotten."

"And yet you still dare to challenge me?"

Lycaon gripped his bow firmly.

"Especially because of it."

Artemis laughed.

It was a soft, genuine sound. And in that exact moment, Lycaon had no idea that he was making the greatest mistake of his life.

Or perhaps, the only thing he would ever get truly right.

They hunted together.

At first, it was just for sport.

Artemis moved through the forest as if she were a part of it. No twig snapped beneath her feet. No leaf rustled.

Lycaon was the only mortal capable of keeping up with her.

He knew every hidden path. Every stream. Every cave. Every ancient tree where the game went to hide.

They found the stag just before the sun dipped below the horizon.

Artemis notched her arrow.

Lycaon did the same.

Both drew their bows.

Both released.

Two arrows sliced through the air.

And both struck true.

The stag collapsed to the ground.

Artemis looked at Lycaon.

Lycaon looked at Artemis.

And then, they both burst into laughter.

From that day on, they met again and again.

At first, it was just for the hunt. Then, it was to talk. Later, long after the sun had set, they would sit together by the fire.

Lycaon told stories of his kingdom. Artemis spoke of the endless forests she roamed. They talked about mortals. About the gods. About freedom.

And eventually, about things they had never shared with anyone else.

Artemis had sworn a sacred vow. She would never love a man.

Lycaon knew of this vow.

And yet, he fell desperately in love with her.

Perhaps Artemis fell for him, too.

But neither of them dared to voice it. For some truths become dangerous the very moment they are spoken aloud.

But nothing remained hidden on Olympus.

Zeus watched his daughter closely. And one day, he witnessed something he never wished to see.

Artemis stood in the forest, beside a mortal.

Lycaon.

And she wasn't looking at him like a mere human. She was looking at him the way a woman looks at a man.

Zeus’s features hardened into stone.

"No."

A single word. But the skies above Olympus darkened instantly with violent thunder.

A mortal king had dared to touch his daughter. And Zeus would make sure Lycaon lived to regret it.

Before the next full moon could rise, Zeus left Olympus.

He took the form of an old, haggard beggar. And he set off toward Lycaon’s palace.

Nobody suspected that on this night, more than just a king would be put to the test.

Instead, the world was about to birth the very first Lycan.

And from a forbidden love, a child would one day rise—a child whose name the world did not yet know.

Nyxia.