Page 31 of Cursed By Fate

“You don’t get to decide that,” I said, feeling something break free inside me. “Not anymore.”

He turned back to me, desperation clawing at his features. “Serena, the curse—”

“The curse?” I laughed, a harsh sound that held no real humor. “Or you? Which one am I really running from?”

His expression changed, hardened, as if a wall slammed down between us. “You’ll see,” he said, his voice low and steady. “One day, you’ll understand why I did this.”

“I hope I never do.” The words were a final, bitter farewell, leaving a void where trust and loyalty used to live.

Alaric turned, his steps slow but resolute, as if he still believed he could outpace the truth. I watched him go, my heart a mess of tangled emotions, my mind replaying his parting shot like a broken record.

Tristan was silent, but I felt the weight of his questions, the heaviness of all we still didn’t know. Was Alaric right about the curse, about us? About the cost of this path we were on? I didn’t want to think so, but the doubt had been planted, taking root in the chaos of my heart.

I wrapped my arms around myself, the chill of uncertainty sinking deep into my bones. Tristan reached for me, but I pulledaway, not ready for the comfort he offered, not ready to face what it might mean. Not yet.

Needing to be alone, I took off toward the trees lining the edge of the mountain near the base of the Stormvale compound. The grove embraced me like an old friend, its ancient trees towering and still, a stark contrast to the chaos I felt inside. The scent of earth and moss was thick, grounding, but even that wasn’t enough to keep the doubts from flooding in. I traced my birthmark, desperate for a sign, some proof that Alaric was wrong about everything. That I was more than the curse. It shimmered faintly under my touch, a soft reminder of Tristan and his unwavering presence. I sank against the bark, letting it cool my overheated skin, trying to silence my father’s voice echoing in my mind. But it was relentless, and my thoughts raced in wild, unending circles.

When Tristan found me, I was teetering on the edge, too wrapped up to notice the commotion brewing back at the compound. The crack of a branch and the sound of shouts finally tore through my daze, and I saw the urgency in his eyes. Trouble was coming. Fast.

I buried my face in my hands, trying to dam the rising tide of doubt. Alaric’s voice was a constant, nagging whisper. Everything I’ve done. Everything I’ve done. Was this bond with Tristan really nothing more than a distraction, like he said? I wanted to scream, to run, to do anything but sit with this suffocating uncertainty. But all I could do was sit.

My birthmark shimmered faintly, Tristan’s face flashing in my mind like a lifeline. I wanted to believe that meant something. That it meant I could be more than this curse. I breathed deeply, pulling in the damp, woody air, letting it fill the hollow spaces where fear had burrowed.

I felt his presence before I saw him. He moved through the grove with the kind of confidence that made me wish I couldbelieve as easily as he seemed to. When his eyes met mine, a jumble of emotions passed through me, each as intense as the last. Relief. Doubt. A longing that made my heart clench painfully in my chest.

“Serena.” He said my name like it was a promise. I didn’t know what kind. I didn’t know if I wanted to.

“Tristan,” I replied, wrapping my arms around my knees. “Tell me I’m not crazy. Tell me this is real.”

He came closer, his gaze never leaving mine. “You’re not crazy. This is real.”

“How do you know?” My voice trembled, betraying me.

“Because it feels like this,” he said, reaching for my hand. The moment his skin touched mine, a jolt ran up my arm, bright and unmistakable.

The world seemed to right itself, if only for a second. The knot of confusion loosened just enough for me to breathe without feeling like it was a chore. I let my fingers linger on his, grounding myself in the warmth of his touch.

“You’re scared,” he said, matter-of-fact, not judging, just knowing.

“Damn right, I’m scared.” I looked away, focusing on the rough bark of the tree, the patterns like ancient scars. “What if he’s right? What if we’re just setting ourselves up for more pain?”

Tristan didn’t answer right away. He didn’t need to. The truth was, I didn’t know if I could handle being let down again.

“I can’t promise you anything,” he finally said, squeezing my hand, making me feel something other than lost.

The forest shifted around us, no longer just a backdrop to my misery but a living, breathing presence. The shouts of wolves broke the quiet, growing louder, more insistent. Tristan tensed, instincts kicking in.

“What’s that?” I asked, the unease in my gut twisting into full-blown alarm.

He glanced toward the compound, his expression sharp with worry. “Trouble.”

I stood, legs shaky but functional. “The kind we can’t handle?”

“The kind that doesn’t wait for us to figure it out.”

We moved through the grove together, urgency speeding our steps. I matched his pace, the rhythm of our running an echo of something deeper, something unspoken but felt.

Behind us, the grove stood tall and silent, its secrets safe for now. Ahead, uncertainty loomed as large and as real as the bond we shared, pulling us into its messy embrace.

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