The temple stood ominously against the darkened sky, its ancient stones etched with the passage of time and the weight of forgotten gods.

The air around it was thick with the scent of decay, and the wind that howled through its decrepit halls carried whispers of the tormented souls that had once sought refuge within.
Yet tonight, it wasn’t the temple’s ancient curses that posed the greatest danger, but the curse that had long haunted the Suthiluck bloodline.

Kit and Singto approached the temple under the cover of night, their steps almost silent against the soft forest floor. Kit’s heart pounded in his chest, not from fear, but from the determination that steeled his every movement.

Beside him, Singto was a figure of calm resolve, though his eyes betrayed the storm of emotions that brewed within him. He had resigned himself to this moment, knowing that there was no other way. The curse had to be faced, and the ancient ritual had to be completed to save him—and everyone he loved—from its deadly grip.

As they reached the temple's entrance, Singto turned to Kit, his expression softening as he looked at his mate. Kit could see the concern etched in every line of his face, and for a brief moment, he considered turning back. But the thought vanished as quickly as it came; there was no turning back now. Too much was at stake.

"Are you sure you want to do this today?" Singto asked, his voice low and filled with unspoken fears.

Kit nodded, his resolve unshaken. "I won’t let this curse take you from me. I want you mine...as soon as possible"

Singto didn’t argue. He knew better than anyone that Kit’s stubbornness was both his greatest strength and his greatest flaw. Instead, he simply took Kit’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before leading them into the temple.

Inside, the air was colder, almost suffocating. Shadows danced on the walls, seemingly alive, and the faint sound of dripping water echoed in the distance. The deeper they went, the more oppressive the atmosphere became, as if the very temple itself was trying to drive them away.

They reached the heart of the temple, a circular chamber with a raised dais at its center. The stone was cracked and worn, but it still bore the markings of an ancient ritual. This was the place where the curse had first been cast, and it was here that they would either break it or succumb to it.

Singto stepped onto the dais, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He could feel the curse stirring within him, a dark presence that had been dormant for far too long. It pulsed with a malevolent energy, eager to be unleashed. He had been preparing for this moment for years, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the curse demanded its due.

Kit stood at the edge of the dais, watching as Singto knelt and began to recite the incantation that had been passed down through his family for generations. His voice was steady, though it grew darker with each word, as if the curse was trying to take control even as he fought to contain it. The shadows around them thickened, swirling like a tempest as the ancient magic was invoked.

But something was wrong. Kit could feel it in his bones. The ritual was supposed to contain the curse, to bind it once more, to weaken it but instead, it seemed to be feeding it, making it stronger. The darkness that had been dormant within Singto was now rising, consuming him from within.

"Phi!" Kit’s voice was sharp, cutting through the growing cacophony of the cursed ritual. "Stop! It’s not working!"

But Singto couldn’t stop. He was trapped, his voice no longer his own as the curse took hold. He kept chanting, his voice now foreign.

" phi Sing stop... simba...stop don't recite it" Kit yelled and Singto looked at him; eyes blood red, lips curled in cruel smirk as he kept chanting the foreign spell meant to invoke goddess.

Singto's warm coffee-brown eyes, once warm and filled with love, were now glowing with an unnatural light, the color of blood and death. He looked at Kit, but there was no recognition in his gaze—only the malevolent hunger of the curse that had claimed him.

Kit’s heart clenched with fear and desperation. He had known this could happen, had prepared for the worst, but nothing could have truly prepared him for the sight of Singto, the man he loved, being consumed by the very curse they had come here to defeat.

The invisible bond between them, usually a source of comfort and strength, was now twisting, writhing restlessly,  filled with a darkness that threatened to overwhelm him.

But Kit refused to give in to despair. He had promised to save Singto, and he would do whatever it took to fulfill that promise—even if it meant hurting the man he loved.

With a swift motion, Kit drew the ceremonial dagger they had brought with them, its blade gleaming in the dim light. The dagger was ancient, forged specifically to combat the curse, but it came with a terrible cost. The only way to break the curse was to shed the blood of the cursed—Singto’s blood on the dais.

The very thought made Kit’s heart ache, but he knew there was no other choice. If he didn’t act now, the curse would consume Singto completely, and there would be no bringing him back. He had to act quickly, before the man he loved was lost to the darkness forever.

"Forgive me," Kit whispered, his voice trembling as he approached Singto. "But I won’t let this curse take you."

He raised the dagger, his hands shaking, and plunged it into Singto’s chest in one swift push.

The moment the blade pierced Singto’s flesh, the chamber erupted in a blinding light. Singto let out a roar of pain and fury, the curse reacting violently to the attack. Dark tendrils of shadow erupted from his body, lashing out at Kit and the walls of the chamber, seeking to destroy everything in their path.

But Kit held firm, refusing to let go of the dagger. The bond between them flared to life, a brilliant light that pushed back against the darkness. He could feel Singto’s pain, his anguish, but also his love—a love that was stronger than the curse, stronger than the darkness that sought to consume them both.

The beast's eyes flickered brown for a blink.
"P'Sing, stay with me!" Kit cried out, his voice filled with desperation and determination. "Fight it! Fight the curse!"

Singto’s body convulsed, the shadows writhing around him as he fought to regain control. The light of their bond grew stronger, pushing back against the darkness, but it wasn’t enough. The curse was too powerful, too deeply rooted in Singto’s blood. Kit could feel the curse trying to tear them apart, to break the bond that had brought them together.

But Kit refused to let it win. He tightened his grip on the dagger, driving it deeper into Singto’s chest, willing the curse to break, to release its hold on the man he loved.

The shadows around them screamed, a sound that was both human and not, filled with rage and despair. The darkness surged, pushing against the light of their bond, threatening to snuff it out.

Kit’s vision blurred as tears streamed down his face, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. He could feel Singto’s heart beating against his hand, the life slowly draining from him as the curse fought to keep its hold. But Kit knew that if he let go now, if he faltered for even a moment, the curse would win, and Singto would be lost forever.

"Phi Sing, I love you," Kit whispered, his voice barely audible over the roar of the darkness. "Come back to me."

For a moment, it seemed as if the curse would prevail. The shadows around them thickened, the light of their bond flickering as the darkness closed in. But then, something changed.

The bond between them flared with a new intensity, a brilliant light that cut through the darkness like a blade. The shadows recoiled, shrinking back as the light grew stronger, pushing them further and further away.

And then, with a final, agonizing scream, the darkness shattered.

The shadows that had filled the chamber dissipated, vanishing into the air as if they had never been there. The oppressive weight that had hung over them lifted, leaving only a heavy silence in its wake.

Kit’s knees buckled, and he fell to the ground, the dagger slipping from his hand. He was shaking, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried to process what had just happened.

But there was no time to rest, no time to even begin to understand the magnitude of what they had just done. Kit crawled to where Singto lay, his heart pounding in his chest as he reached out to touch him. Singto's body was rapidly growing cold. Placing his fangs in the junction of Singto's neck and Shoulder, Krist bit down — physically binding their souls in a mate bond.

"Singto," Kit whispered, his voice trembling with fear. "Singto, please, wake up."

Singto didn’t move.

Kit’s heart clenched with terror. He placed a trembling hand on Singto’s chest, feeling for a heartbeat, for any sign of life. For a moment, there was nothing. And then—there it was. Faint, weak, but still there.

A sob of relief escaped Kit’s lips as he pressed his forehead against Singto’s chest, tears streaming down his face. Singto was alive. He had survived.

But as Kit pulled back, he saw the deep wound in Singto’s chest where the dagger had pierced him. The blood that stained his clothes and the stone beneath him was dark, almost black, and Kit knew that the curse had left its mark. The wound was deep, and Kit could see that it wasn’t healing as it should.

Panic seized Kit as he realized the gravity of what he had done. It was too soon. The curse had been driven back, but it wasn’t gone. It lingered, clinging to Singto like a dark shadow, refusing to be banished entirely. Kit knew that the wound he had inflicted was not just physical—it had also left a scar on Singto’s soul.

Desperate, Kit tore a strip of cloth from his shirt and pressed it against the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding. His hands trembled as he worked, his mind racing with fear and guilt. He had meant to save Singto, but now he feared that he might have doomed him instead.

" stay with me," Kit pleaded, his voice cracking as he spoke. "Please, don’t leave me."

Singto’s breathing was shallow, his face pale and drawn. His eyes were closed, and for a terrifying moment, Kit thought that he might have already lost him. But then, with a soft groan, Singto’s eyes fluttered open.

"Kit..." Singto’s voice was weak, barely more than a whisper, but it was enough to send a surge of relief through Kit’s heart. "You... did it."

Kit shook his head, tears blurring his vision. "No, I... I hurt you. I couldn’t stop the curse, phi. It’s still there."

Singto’s hand reached up, weakly grasping Kit’s arm. "You saved me, Kit," he murmured, his gaze unfocused but the red had already receded to give the edges, giving way to dark brown of Singto's pupil "You... fought for me. I felt it."

Kit wanted to believe him, but the sight of the blood pooling around Singto’s body filled him with dread. The wound was severe, and Kit knew that without immediate help, Singto might not survive. But there was no one else—no one who could save Singto now.

"I’ll get help," Kit said frantically, his mind racing for a solution. "I’ll find a healer, someone who can—"

Singto’s grip tightened slightly, pulling Kit’s attention back to him. "No... there’s no time," Singto rasped, his voice filled with a grim understanding. "You need to finish... the ritual."

Kit’s breath caught in his throat. "What do you mean? Phi, you’re too weak and I have already placed the mate mark....—"

"The curse... it’s not gone," Singto interrupted, his words labored but insistent. "It’s... still in me. The ritual... must be completed."

Kit’s mind reeled at the realization. The curse was still clinging to Singto, trying to regain its hold. The ritual had been interrupted when Kit stabbed him, but it wasn’t enough to completely break the curse. To save Singto, to truly free him from the darkness that had plagued his family for centuries, the ritual had to be finished. But Kit knew that doing so would cost Singto his life.

" no," Kit choked out, shaking his head in denial. " we will live with this curse,phi. I can’t lose you. There has to be another way."

"There isn’t," Singto whispered, his voice filled with both pain and resignation. "You have to trust me, Kit. Finish the ritual... before it’s too late."

Tears streamed down Kit’s face as he looked into Singto’s eyes, seeing the truth in them. Singto was right. If the ritual wasn’t completed, the curse would only grow stronger, and it would take Singto from him in a far worse way. Kit had no choice.

With trembling hands, Kit retrieved the ceremonial dagger from where it had fallen. The blade was still stained with Singto’s blood, and the sight of it made Kit’s heart twist in agony. But he knew what he had to do. He had to finish what they had started, no matter how much it tore him apart inside.

"I’m sorry," Kit whispered, his voice shaking with grief. "I’m so sorry, phi."

Singto managed a faint smile, his eyes filled with a deep and abiding love that transcended the pain they both felt. "I know," he whispered back. "I love you, Kit. Always."

With a heavy heart, Kit raised the dagger once more, his hand steady despite the tears that blurred his vision. He began to chant the final incantation, his voice strong and resolute, even as his heart shattered with every word.

Singto opened his eyes , pleading " Kit...my love.... will you kill me? " Singto asked hurt, tears flowed from his eyes " You have already placed the mate mark...you can't bring me back now ... it will kill me Kit.. MI amoré ... This curse is not string than our love...we will conquer it...."

Krist's hand trembled, the dagger fell down . "Krist ." Singto thrashed like a caged animal "..complete the ritual... now...." Singto yelled with all his might as if he was being held down by someone.

Krist caught the red flicker of Singto's eyes before it was gone as if it was a trick of light. " This curse will make me mad " Singto sobbed " Why has it come down to it Kit? I don't want to die ...I want to live with you " Singto's tears mixed with the blood pooled around his body. Krist noticed the dagger wound in Singto's chest was sealing as if being sewn by unknown entity. 

" Now..." Singto yelled. Instantly his tone turned pleading , eyes gentle " There must be other way Kit... I haven't even got a chance to give you your first courting gift. "

Krist picked the dagger up abd Singto's voice turned accusing " You are the first mate in history that will kill their own mate without even a proper courting..."

Singto's eyes flickered again..." Now...do it Kit..."

Closing his eyes, vision blurred with tears, Krist stabbed the dagger deep in Dingto's chest shouting " I love you phi Sing...."

The chamber around them began to tremble, the ancient magic of the ritual reacting to Kit’s words. The air grew thick with power, and the shadows that had retreated earlier now surged forward, drawn to the dark energy that pulsed from Singto’s body. But Kit’s voice never wavered. He poured everything he had into the incantation, channeling his love, his fear, and his desperation into the magic that would either save Singto or destroy him while he held the dagger tight, with both his hands as if his life was depemdent on it. .

As Kit neared the end of the ritual, the shadows coiled around Singto, their tendrils tightening as if trying to drag him back into the darkness. Singto’s body convulsed, his breathing ragged and labored. The curse was fighting back, resisting Kit’s efforts to banish it once and for all.

"Stay with me, phi," Kit cried out, his voice filled with raw emotion. "Don’t give up!"

Singto’s eyes locked onto Kit’s, and he smiled; in that moment, Kit saw the depth of Singto’s love for him—the love that had brought them to this moment, the love that had given them the strength to fight the curse together. And it was that love that gave Kit the strength to finish the ritual.

With the final words of the incantation, Kit drove the dagger deeper into Singto’s chest, the blade piercing the heart of the curse. The shadows let out a final, ear-splitting scream, the darkness imploding on itself as the magic of the ritual took hold. The curse shattered, the dark energy dissipating into the air, leaving behind only the faintest traces of its once-malevolent presence.

For a moment, everything was still. The chamber was silent, the oppressive atmosphere lifted, and the curse that had plagued the Suthiluck bloodline for centuries was no more.

But Kit couldn’t celebrate. He couldn’t even breathe. He looked down at Singto, his heart in his throat, praying that he hadn’t been too late.

Singto was deathly still, his eyes closed, his body limp in Kit’s arms. The dagger was still embedded in his chest, Krist pulled it out, blood gusjed like a fountain, staining the stone beneath them a dark crimson. Kit’s hands shook as he reached out, his fingers brushing against Singto’s face.

"Phi...Phi Singto," Kit whispered, his voice barely audible. "Phi Sing, Please... wake up."

Krist pressed his trembling hands against Singto’s chest, desperately trying to stem the flow of blood. The dagger, now slick with crimson, clattered to the floor beside him, its cold metal a stark reminder of the irreversible act he had committed. His vision blurred with tears as he leaned over Singto, pleading with every fiber of his being for a sign, any sign, that he hadn’t gone too far, that the man he loved wasn’t slipping away.

“phi Sing , please,” Kit’s voice cracked, the words barely a whisper as they caught in his throat. “Don’t leave me. I can’t do this without you.”

But Singto didn’t respond. His eyes, once so full of life, remained closed, his chest unnervingly still beneath Kit’s trembling hands. A deep, suffocating dread filled Kit’s chest, squeezing his heart until it felt like it would shatter.

He killed Singto. He didn't wait for his heartbeat to completely stop and gave a hasty mating mark. He had killed his mate with his own hands....

The world around him seemed to close in, the walls of the temple pressing down as if they would crush him along with the unbearable weight of his guilt.

“No, no, no…” Kit’s breaths came in short, panicked gasps, his vision narrowing to the lifeless form beneath him. He shook Singto gently, then more forcefully, desperation clawing at him. “phi Singto, wake up! You can't doe...you promised me...Please, wake up!”

But there was no response. The silence that followed was deafening, a void that swallowed Kit whole, leaving nothing but a hollow ache where his heart used to be. The realization hit him like a physical blow, knocking the breath from his lungs.

Singto was gone.

Kit’s scream of anguish tore through the temple, echoing off the ancient stone walls. He collapsed over Singto’s body, his tears soaking into Singto’s tunic as he clutched him tightly, refusing to let go. The future they had fought for, the love they had shared—it all crumbled in that moment, slipping through Kit’s fingers like sand.

“Please…” Kit’s voice was a broken whisper, barely audible through the sobs that wracked his body. “Please come back… I love you… I can’t do this without you…”

But the only answer was the sound of his own grief, filling the empty chamber with a sorrow that seemed too vast to bear. Kit’s world shattered around him, and he was left with nothing but the cold, lifeless body of the man he had loved more than anything. The agony of that loss was unlike anything he had ever known, a pain so deep it threatened to consume him entirely.

In that moment, Kit wished with all his heart that he could trade places with Singto, that he could give his own life to bring Singto back. But all he could do was hold him, whispering broken apologies into the darkness, as the reality of what he had lost settled over him like a suffocating weight.

No...Singto can't die. A man who had once sacrificed his happiness, traded his soul for his people can't die a meaningless death.

" Wake up..." Krist screamed " Or I will die beside you..."

He lookd up, straight at sky through open altar " Give him back to me..." Krist screamed " or watch me die... my death will be on you.." he screamed at the goddess.

Picking up the ceremonial dagger, he sliced his own wrist open, the blood flowing in to the pool of Singto's blood.

" I love you" Krist kissed Singto's closed eyelids, a drop of his tear fell on it and
Singto’s eyes fluttered open.

" Kit.."

Kit let out a sob of relief, his hands trembling as he cupped Singto’s face. Singto’s gaze was unfocused at first, his expression dazed, but then his eyes found Kit’s, and a weak, but genuine, smile spread across his lips.

"Kit," Singto murmured, his voice barely more than a breath. "You... did it."

Kit shook his head, tears streaming down his face as he pulled Singto close, holding him as if he would never let go. "No, phi," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "We did it. Together."

Singto’s smile widened, and though he was weak, Kit could see the light in his eyes—the light that told him that the curse was truly gone, that Singto was still with him.

But the wound was still there, deep and bleeding, and Kit knew that they weren’t out of danger yet. He had to get Singto out of the temple, had to find help, but at least now there was hope. The curse had been broken, and Singto was still alive. That was all that mattered.

With renewed determination, Kit bound his own bleeding wrist. He was a shifter, he will survive few minutes.

He carefully lifted Singto into his arms, the effort nearly overwhelming in his weakened state. But he didn’t care. He would carry Singto out of this cursed place if it was the last thing he did.

As Kit made his way out of the temple, the first rays of dawn began to break through the trees, bathing the forest in a soft, golden light. The darkness that had plagued them for so long was gone, and in its place was a new day—a day that Kit and Singto would face together, free from the shadow of the curse that had threatened to tear them apart.

Kit’s heart swelled with a mixture of relief and love as he looked down at Singto, who had drifted into unconsciousness, his face peaceful for the first time in what felt like forever. They had fought, they had bled, and they had nearly lost everything, but in the end, they had won. They had broken the curse, and they had done it together.

...........

Krist had lost consciousness from blood loss but not before the healers arrived.

The morning saw them laid at dealer's station, side by side, on same bed as Singto had Krist's hand in death grip that even four strong alphas couldn't pry off. 

" Let it be" the healer admonished the apprentices trying to break the newly mated apart. " Alpha will automatically release hum once he senses his mate is safe. The healer instructed.

A scar on the chest wasn't something to feel happy about. But, it brought tears to queen dowager's eyes. Her children had done what they could not. They have broken the curse! If curse hadn't broken fully, Singto's chest , despite the silver wound would have sewn itself anew.

......... THE END.....