Page 17 of Cursed By Fate

Always Tristan.

I turned, half expecting him to be standing there, watching from the shadows.

But the room was empty.

And I was alone.

Again.

After waking up alone in his room, I’d spent half the day wandering the mountain compound like some awkward stray someone forgot to leash. The place was bigger than I expected: winding stone halls that whispered old magic, rooms carved into the bones of the mountain, and too many curious stares from the wolves who clearly hadn’t decided if I was a guest, a prisoner, or a threat they should’ve already dealt with.

By the time I finally caught up with Tristan, I was cranky, starving, and about two seconds away from punching the next person who asked if I was lost.

He didn’t look surprised to see me. Just tired. But not in the same way as before. Something in his expression had shifted—less rigid, more… open. Maybe it was the way his eyes softened when they landed on me. Or the fact that, for once, he didn’t greet me like a challenge he needed to shut down.

“You hungry?” he asked, his voice rough like gravel.

“Starving,” I replied, arms crossed but voice gentler than I meant it to be. “You planning to throw me in the dungeon after dessert or...?”

His mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “Dinner first. Then we’ll see.”

I rolled my eyes, but before I could follow up with something scathing, he said, “Come on. I’ll show you around first.”

And just like that, the alpha who chained me up yesterday was offering me a personal tour.

He paused near a torch bracket carved with ancient runes, fingers brushing the stone like it grounded him. His jaw clenched, just for a second, before the alpha mask slid back into place. The halls gave way to the open air, and I blinked against the sudden flood of late light. The wind here smelled of moss and smoke, tinged with the faintest spice of wolfsbane and pine. For the first time in days, I wasn’t cold.

The Stormvale compound wasn’t just stone and strategy—itbreathed.

The outer terraces were wide and open, carved into the mountain itself, with jagged cliff views on one side and forest stretching endlessly on the other. We passed small courtyards where wolves trained with blades and others gathered near the barracks, laughter spilling from their lungs like they didn’t have enemies just beyond the trees. Like war hadn’t carved itself into their spines.

Then we reached the edge of a wide clearing, where firelight licked the air and ash drifted between conversations. Wolves were everywhere—lounging, sparring, laughing,living. Some sat by the fire with mugs in hand, others wrestled like overgrown pups in the dirt. Children darted between the legs of the adults, shrieking with joy, while a few of the rougher warriors took turns sparring near the flames.

I paused, watching.

Tristan didn’t rush me.

“Shouldn’t you be showing them who’s boss?” I asked, nodding toward a particularly brutal takedown that left one of the younger men groaning on his back in the dust.

Tristan glanced that way and gave a lazy shrug. “They know who the alpha is.”

A beat. Then he looked back at me andwinked.

I snorted before I could stop myself, warmth curling at the edges of my ribs. “Cocky much?”

“Confident,” he corrected. “It’s different.”

I watched him for a moment longer, taking in the way the firelight played across the hard angles of his face. He didn’t bark orders or loom to intimidate—but everyone looked at him with the same mix of respect and loyalty I’d never seen in my own pack. He was dangerous, yes. But there was something else, too.

Hebelongedhere. Not because he ruled by fear, but because theytrustedhim.

And maybe that was what shook me the most. It was a stark contrast to the iron rule of my father.

I looked away before my thoughts turned traitorous.

“You could’ve locked me back up,” I said quietly. “But you didn’t.”

He didn’t respond immediately. Then, “No. I didn’t.”

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