Page 30 of Cursed By Fate

There was only us.

And then—

A stark knock at the door snapped through the moment like a blade.

We broke apart, breathless. I could still feel the imprint of his mouth on mine, the echo of something we hadn’t meant to give each other but had anyway.

“Motherfucker,” Tristan growled, already moving. The loss of his touch sent a chill rushing in where the heat had been.

“This better be important,” he barked, yanking open the door.

Renna stood on the other side, backlit by torchlight and carrying the weight of something serious in her gaze. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Alpha, but you have a visitor.” Her eyes flicked past him to me. “Alaric is demanding to see you—both of you.”

Alaric.

Of course.

The puppet master never missed his curtain call.

I straightened, the high of the kiss dissolving into cold fury. Whatever he wanted, he’d have to go through both of us now.

The forest wrapped around us, heavy and breathless, like it was holding in a secret. I stood there, feeling as if I might shatter from the weight of everything I was about to do. Tristan’s presence was solid next to me, a silent promise. Alaric arrived at the border with an air of inevitability, like he knew we’d be waiting. His face was worn, exhaustion etched into the lines around his mouth, but determination burned bright in his eyes. I braced myself against the flood of old loyalties and fresh anger. My voice was sharper than the crisp autumn air.

“You’ve been playing us all, haven’t you?” I asked. The hurt must have shown on my face, because he flinched.

“Everything I’ve done has been to free you from this curse,” he said. I wasn’t ready to believe him, not after everything.

“Even working with someone here?” I shot back, feeling Tristan tense beside me. Alaric’s eyes flickered to him, then back to me.

“He is not meant for you,” he said, a harsh edge to his voice. “This connection you feel is nothing but a distraction from yourtrue purpose.” I felt the words cut through me, raw and real. Was he right? Or was this just another one of his manipulations?

Silence stretched between us, as taut and ready to snap as the anger coiled inside me. Tristan was a constant presence at my side, radiating an intensity that matched my own. Alaric took a step closer, and I fought the instinct to flinch. His eyes, so much like my own, bore into me, searching for a crack in my resolve.

“Serena,” he said, softer now, like he was pleading with me to understand. “I’m trying to save you. Please, come home.”

For a flicker of a second, I remembered him tucking a dried moonflower into my hand the night I shifted for the first time, telling me it was the only thing in the world more stubborn than me. He hadn’t looked afraid then. Just tired. Maybe even proud. Maybe that’s why this moment hurt more than anything else.

“Save me?” My voice rose, bitter and wild. “Is that what you call locking me up and lying to me my whole life? I don’t have a home in Silver Ridge, I never have. It’s a prison.”

He took a breath, like he was about to launch into one of his lectures. But he hesitated, barely even bothering to look me in the eyes. “I’ve done what I had to do.”

“You’ve done what you wanted,” I snapped, the words spilling out like venom. “Kept me in the dark. Shoved me into situations you couldn’t control. All for what?”

“To keep you alive.” The words rang with a conviction that made something inside me tremble.

I glanced at Tristan, needing his steady presence more than ever. His gaze met mine, solid and unwavering. He understood. He didn’t have to say it; he knew what it was like to be used, to be played.

“Alive doesn’t mean anything if I’m your puppet.” My voice cracked, but I didn’t care. “You think I want to live like that?”

“I think you don’t know what you’re risking,” Alaric said, and for the first time, he looked truly afraid. Not for himself, but forme. It threw me off balance, like everything else in the past few days.

“Maybe it’s worth the risk.” I said it softly, a whisper against the looming threat of his plans.

“Maybe?” Alaric seized on the word. “You’re willing to gamble everything?”

“Maybe she is.” Tristan’s voice cut in, sharp and sure.

Alaric’s eyes darkened, locking onto Tristan with an intensity that felt like a physical blow. “And what do you think you can give her? Freedom? Love?” His voice was mocking, cruel in its certainty. “Those are not for her.”

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