I Became the Cure for the Cursed Prince

Prologue

“You never once replied to my letters, Lucas.”

A restrained voice pierced through Lucas’s ears. However, despite the desperation in the words, he remained silent, merely meeting the prince’s gaze with his impassive black eyes.

Eyes that gleamed like gold, reminiscent of a tiger.

There was a time when he had thought those eyes were as pure as willows swaying in the spring breeze.

The owner of those eyes was Leon Theian.

He was the man destined to lead the Theian Empire in the near future. He was also the man whom Lucas had personally raised.

And now, the once endearing child—whom he had cherished like a son—had grown into an imposing figure, standing too close, exuding a suffocating presence.

“…Your Highness.”

Lucas’s composed voice cracked ever so slightly.

The once crisp, woody scent—akin to winter birch—had now transformed into the smoldering scent of dry firewood burning. The heat was overwhelming, as if his entire body had been cast into the flames.

How absurd. I’ve never even experienced a heat cycle, yet here I am, feeling this way.

It was already difficult enough to keep himself steady, but with Leon persistently closing the distance, it became unbearable. Each time Lucas took a step back, Leon would smirk and advance, repeating the cycle until Lucas found himself pressed against a wall.

“That’s right, Lucas. I am your prince.”

“….”

Golden hair shimmered as it was tousled by the breeze. Those deeply set golden eyes scrutinized Lucas’s face, tracing every feature with unguarded intensity.

Lucas exhaled slowly, steadying his breath. Then, with unwavering determination, he lifted his gaze to meet the prince’s.

The once gentle, willow-like eyes had darkened with a hint of red, now sharp and piercing. His once delicate, refined features had matured into striking, well-defined lines.

“Lucas, I asked you a question. Why didn’t you reply to my letters?”

The voice that had once called his name playfully—laughing like a child—was now low and husky, laced with something dangerously indulgent.

Leon’s presence alone was enough to render most people motionless under the weight of his authority. But Lucas stood his ground, meeting the prince’s eyes without flinching. Even so, when Leon suddenly grabbed his shoulder, Lucas had to brace himself to keep from staggering.

Where did that adorable, innocent little tiger cub go? And why… why am I the one unable to move under his grip?

I need to pull myself together. This is not the past, where I could simply dote on him. The very reason I came here was—

Clenching his fists, Lucas locked eyes with Leon.

“I have seen Your Highness. That is enough. I am here only to congratulate you on your coming-of-age ceremony. Now, I shall take my leave.”

Even to his own ears, his voice sounded cold.

With those words, Lucas shook off Leon’s arm from his shoulder. The thickening scent that clung to him choked his throat, but he forced himself to ignore it.

Fortunately, Leon did not stop him. Lucas slowly stepped toward the door of the audience chamber. It was only when he stood before it that his true feelings slipped through in a quiet murmur.

“…I’m relieved to see you are doing well. May you always remain in good health.”

He reached for the massive door handle to pull it open.

“You say I’ve been well…?”

When had he moved?

Before Lucas could react, Leon was already behind him. His hand brushed against the nape of Lucas’s neck in a slow, deliberate motion.

“How could I have been well when you weren’t there?”

His voice was as sweet as honey. The warmth from his touch spread through Lucas’s skin, and for a fleeting moment, it felt as though a taut string deep inside him was about to snap.

Before he realized it, his body had already begun to lean toward him.

“Wait, Your Highness—”

Lucas tensed, trying to break away. But Leon did not loosen his grip. He smiled, eyes dark with something unspoken. Every glance, every touch, every deepening gaze was unmistakably deliberate.

Then, in an even softer voice, Leon murmured into his ear.

“Every night, I thought about it. How much I wanted to hold you, Lucas.”

“Lucas, won’t you hold me?”

A snowy night long ago. A small boy clutching a pillow, stepping into his room, whispering those very words.

The memories surged back.

A ten-year-old child, his small shoulders trembling. The howling blizzard rattling against the window. The crackling warmth of the fireplace. The faint scent of dark chocolate lingering on young Leon’s skin.

Those memories held him in place. Lucas couldn’t push him away.

“Do you hate it?”

“….”

“I’m asking if you’ll reject me again.”

Leon whispered as he lightly bit Lucas’s earlobe before pulling away.

“I believed that once I became an adult, you would finally accept me as your mate.” His voice was unwavering. “Be honest with yourself, Lucas. You want me, too.”

His breath brushed against Lucas’s cheek, growing hotter with each passing second. Lucas averted his gaze, forcing himself to look downward.

“Your Highness, I am the Grand Duke of Lion Duchy—”

I will support you from afar until you ascend the throne. That was what he had intended to say.

But before he could finish, Leon abruptly turned him around and captured his lips.

“…!”

Lucas’s eyes widened in shock at the soft sensation against his lips.

It was entirely different from the playful kisses they had shared in childhood. This was nothing like those innocent gestures—this was a kiss that felt like it would devour him whole. Lucas struggled with all his strength to push Leon away, but in return, a firm hand pressed against the back of his head, keeping him locked in place.

“…!”

The moment he thought their lips had parted, Leon’s mouth crashed against his again, this time more desperate. His wrist was held so tightly that the blood circulation had nearly stopped.

“As if I’d ever let you slip away again.”

Leon’s words came between their fevered breaths, sending a chill down Lucas’s spine.

How had things come to this? All I wanted was to raise him properly…

As the kiss dragged on endlessly, Lucas’s thoughts became a tangled mess. Every breath he took to clear his mind was filled with the heavy, intoxicating scent of pheromones, tightening around his throat like a noose. His body weakened under the suffocating weight, his resistance fading as his consciousness slipped further.

“Lucas… Lucas…”

Leon’s voice, calling his name, sounded distant, as though coming from far away. It wasn’t just the overwhelming pheromones clouding his mind—it felt like he was sinking into deep waters, his thoughts scattering into oblivion.

It was the same sensation he had felt before coming to this world.

Kim Woojin grasped at the edges of his consciousness, drowning in the pheromone-laden air, as a long-buried memory surfaced.

That day—the day before he arrived in this world.

The Incident at Tiger Bookstore

It had happened at Tiger Bookstore, the place where Kim Woojin, a recessive omega, had barely managed to find work.

He had been dusting the old books, moving through the aisles stacked with tattered covers, outdated textbooks, and aging pages steeped in the scent of time. For a fleeting moment, the quiet routine allowed him to escape the sorrow of his wretched life.

The pay was terrible, and delayed wages were a common occurrence. On top of that, the bookstore owner had wandering hands, constantly trying to grope him when no one was looking.

Still, he was grateful to have a job at all. No one else was willing to hire a recessive omega.

That day, Woojin had placed a small bag of cat food outside the bookstore’s entrance, calling for the only friend he had.

“Hayan-ah.”

At his call, a white cat peeked out from its hiding spot and rubbed against his legs.

“Meow.”

Its soft greeting made him smile. Woojin bent down, and Hayan pressed its tiny nose against his cheek. The cool, damp sensation of its nose against his skin washed away his loneliness, filling his chest with warmth.

“Alright, Hayan, that’s enough greeting. Eat up, you must be hungry.”

“Meow.”

“Our Hayan is so polite. Eat lots and stay healthy, okay?”

Woojin gently stroked the cat’s head, smiling. This was the happiest part of his day—watching Hayan crunch through its food with tiny, eager bites.

Once the store closed for the day and the lights went out, Woojin would retreat to his cramped storage room, where he studied to become an animal caretaker. It would take years to earn the necessary certifications and complete the required courses, but he refused to give up.

Animals didn’t care if you were a recessive or a dominant, an omega or an alpha. If you loved them, they loved you back.

“If only the world were full of animals instead of people,” he murmured to himself.

That evening, Woojin curled up in the coldest, most isolated corner of the bookstore, his breath visible in the freezing air.

“I wish I could live somewhere warm… Somewhere without alphas or omegas.”

But it was nothing more than a foolish dream.

Woojin’s world was limited to Tiger Bookstore, the stray cat he cared for, and the tiny storage room he called home.

With a sigh, he pulled a book from the shelf.

Aside from feeding Hayan, there was one other thing that brought him joy—romance novels.

Maybe it was because he was lonely. Reading about lovers who cherished and protected one another filled the empty spaces in his heart, even if it was just a fantasy.

That night, he picked up a novel titled The Tyrant Prince Locked His Lady Away in a Secret Chamber, a dark romance fantasy.

The story was unsettling, yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away. No matter how suffocating it felt, he read it all the way to the last page.

When he finally finished, Woojin shook his head and stood up.

That was when it happened.

“Meow! Myaaaow!”

A desperate, agonized cry rang from outside.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Woojin bolted out the door.

And saw it.

Hayan, sitting in the middle of the street, its once pristine white fur stained red.