Page 6 of Cursed By Fate

I turned away from him, jaw locked as I gripped the edge of the table hard enough that a lesser material might have cracked. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand his anger, his doubt. He wasn’t wrong—not entirely. If the council caught wind of this, they’d invoke the old laws—binding combat. Challenge by blood. And if I lost... they’d tear Stormvale apart from the inside out. But underneath his words was a challenge I couldn’t accept, not now, not when my resolve was fractured by thoughts of the wolf locked in the chamber down the hall.

I paced the length of the room, my fingers trailing along the rough stone. The cool touch grounded me, a stark contrast to the fire that seemed to ignite whenever I thought of Serena. “And what would you have me do? Release her? That's not an option.”

“We could ransom her,” Ewan suggested, his voice tight. “Get Alaric to agree to leave us alone and be done with this mess.”

I whirled to face him, a snarl building in my chest. “And risk her father's retaliation? No. Not when they’ve already attacked us before, it’s too risky. She stays.”

The tension in the room was palpable, crackling like lightning before a storm. I could smell Ewan's anxiety, sharp and acrid, mingling with my own conflicted scent.

“She’s not just a prisoner, Ewan,” I answered finally, my voice low, measured. “She’s something much larger than she knows. Larger thanweknow.” I shifted my gaze to him over my shoulder, my ice-blue eyes locking with his. “And until I figure out exactlywhatthat is, Serena stays.”

Ewan inhaled slowly, the tension between us taut as a drawn bowstring. Then, with a stiff bow of his head, he relented—for now. “I hope you’re right,” he muttered, his voice still laced with skepticism. “Because if this thing spirals out of control, it’ll be a storm none of us can outrun.”

Without another word, he strode from the chamber, his boots striking the stone faster than necessary. I watched him go, my chest tight with the weight of leadership. I wanted to believe I was right—needed to believe it. But doubt gnawed at me like a wolf too long without a hunt.

The tunnels were quiet again, the sounds of conversation dimmed to faint murmurs in the background. It was late; most of the pack would retreat to their respective chambers soon, turning to rest as they always did, safe under our mountain’s protection. But my wolf didn’t feel like resting. It prowled beneath my skin, stirring with restless energy, pulling me toward the south wing of the sanctuary.

Toward her.

Answers.That’s what I was going to find, or at least that’s what I told myself. The deeper I trekked into the sanctuary, the more the air shifted—damp and heavy, with a faint whistle from the mountain winds filtering through cracks in the stone. My hand brushed against the jagged walls as I walked, a sensation that grounded me just enough to keep my thoughts in check. The walls whispered history—runes etched into volcanic stone, long faded but never erased. Some told stories of sacrifice. Others, warnings: “Break the bond, and the earth will bleed.” I’d ignored those as superstition once. Now... I wasn’t so sure.

The passage narrowed briefly before opening into another carved hollow, the corridor that led directly to the secure quarters. Her scent was stronger here, wild and stubborn, though touched with something sharper—wolfsbane.

Good. At least the measures Ewan had ordered for her containment were working. It was enough to slow her wolf’s strength without crippling her human form entirely. Still, it clawed at me, the thought of her wrists chafing against the bindings, her freedom stripped entirely.

Why does it matter?My own voice pushed the question like a scold, trying to rip away the concern that had no place here.

It didn’t matter—not for her.

But for the prophecy tied to her mark.

This mark, this prophecy—it should’ve been a warning. But now I wasn’t sure if I wanted answers, or just another excuse to see her again. It wasn’t until I reached the thick iron bars of her chamber that I realized how tightly my fists were clenched. I flexed my fingers, taking a slow breath to calm myself, before stepping silently into the dimly lit space. She was sprawled on the cot against the far wall, her auburn hair wilder than it had been earlier. The faint shift of her shoulders told me she wasn’t asleep.

Her head snapped up, eyes locking on me like a predator spotting prey. “Come to gloat, Alpha?” she spat, her words as sharp as her glare. “Or are we skipping straight to the torture?”

Her fire didn’t dim for anyone, not even in captivity—and gods help her, it was almost... magnetic.

Serena was now sitting on the edge of the cot, her bare, bruised wrists resting lightly on her lap. The torchlight made her hair glow like fire, and I hated that I noticed. Hated that I wanted to see more of her skin lit up by it.

“Are you planning to stand there brooding, or does the big bad alpha plan to say something?” she said, breaking the quiet without looking up. Her voice was sharp enough to slice bone, but her fire didn’t bother hiding its wounds.

I stepped fully into the dim torchlight this time, my boots deliberate against the stone floor. She raised her head then, her hazel eyes narrowing as they met mine.

“Still breathing. Shame, really,” I finally answered smoothly, leaning one shoulder casually against the iron bars of her cell. The dry retort didn’t satisfy her, though. Serena’s eyes remained on mine, measuring me.

“That’s the best you’ve got? Not very original for someone with oh-so-great alpha authority,” she said, smirking as she rose to stand. Her bare feet grazed against the stone with grace—as though the rough terrain meant nothing to her.

I stayed silent for a moment, watching. No matter how sharp her words, her body language betrayed the exhaustion she didn’t dare show, the faint tremor in her fingers as she gripped the cot behind her.

“How noble of you to play the silent protector. What... saved my life after all that bloodshed? Guilt? Pity?” She gritted her teeth before biting out the last venomous question. “Or is it leverage, pure and simple? What were you doing in Silver Ridge, anyway?”

I stepped closer, closing the gap until only the cold and illusion of the iron bars separated us. My grip firmed against the cold rungs as I leveled my voice low.

“You’re still breathing because you bear the same mark I do,” I said evenly.

This time, her reaction wasn’t immediately biting. Her carefully guarded smirk faltered, and I caught the flicker of frustration—or maybe fear—that bridged her silence.

I leaned forward just slightly, enough to seize my advantage. “I’m keeping you alive because whatever ties you to this prophecy isn’t something I can ignore, no matter the body count from your pack,” I said, my voice dangerously quiet.

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