Page 37 of Cursed By Fate

The stones caught the light before Alaric did, glowing with an intensity that shot straight through me. A sharp tingling sensation filled my veins the closer I got to the stones, my curse tied to the very essence of their magic. The hum of the stones wasn’t just noise anymore—it was a scream in my bones, a vibration I couldn’t shut out. The bastard was doing it. Reallydoing it. I stood in the doorway, my heart split wide open and ready for the taking. But not him. Never him. He turned away, not willing to let me in or keep me out, leaving me hovering in the same no-man’s-land I’d been in for years. “You've lied to me my entire life,” I said, a snarl cutting through the words. He didn't flinch. Just kept arranging the stolen stones, eyes dodging mine like they always did when the truth was too close for comfort.

The room was a tangle of glowing artifacts and forgotten promises. I wanted to destroy every last one of them, to watch them burn as bright as the betrayal inside me. But I couldn’t move. My feet felt rooted to the ground, my heart too raw to do anything but hurt.

Alaric still hadn’t looked at me. Not really. It was like facing me was harder than any war he’d ever fought, like acknowledging what he’d done would take the life out of him. But what about me? What about everything I’d lost because of his secrets?

“You knew what these were,” I said, forcing the words past the lump in my throat. “And you kept it from me. From everyone. Do you even know what destroying them will do to the Stormvale pack?”

Finally, his eyes met mine. There was something in them, but I didn’t know if it was shame or defiance or just plain exhaustion. “I did what I had to,” he said, each word clipped and full of old wounds. “For the pack. For you.”

I felt a snarl rise in me, hot and wild. “For me? This was never for me. You did it to control me.”

He turned his back again, the movement so cold and final I thought it might shatter me. “You don’t understand.”

I was shaking, rage and heartbreak bleeding through my skin. “Then make me understand.”

He hesitated, his hands faltering as they arranged the stones, shaking like he was an old man on the edge of something terrible. “It was the only way, Serena. The only way to break the curse.”

“You knew it wouldn’t work,” I spat, my voice cracking. “These stones never belonged to us, did they?”

A silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he almost turned around but didn’t. “It was a chance,” he said finally, his voice barely more than a whisper. “A chance I had to take.”

“For what? To keep me tied to you? To make me think I was the problem?” I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The air was too thick with everything unsaid. “You were willing to sacrifice everything—both packs, innocent lives, even Tristan—just to control my destiny.”

The name hit him like a blow. I saw it in the way he flinched, the way his hands clenched and unclenched over the stones. “You were supposed to be safe,” he said, the old determination cracking, letting something more human seep through.

“Safe? Or miserable?”

His silence told me everything I needed to know.

I felt the full weight of it then, the years of half-truths and lies coming down on me like an avalanche. I’d spent my whole life believing I was cursed, that there was something wrong with me, and here was the man who could have changed it all. The man who should have.

The glow of the stones was a taunt, a reminder that he’d known all along and hadn’t cared what it cost. I could see it in the way his eyes avoided mine, in the way he couldn’t bring himself to speak. He was caught between the father I wanted him to be and the alpha who’d do anything to win. Afterall, my curse was nothing more than a burden and embarrassment to him.

“You never intended for me to have a choice,” I said, my voice rough with the weight of what it meant.

“Choices aren’t always what they seem,” he said, the words more desperate than I expected. “Everything I’ve done has been to free you from this curse… I watched it kill your mother slowly. Not just her body—her spirit. She was marked too. I didn’t save her. So I swore I’d do whatever it took to save you. Even if it made you hate me. I was trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need your protection.” It came out hard and fast, sharper than any blade. “I needed the truth.”

I didn’t get the apology. I didn’t get the truth. But I got clarity. My father would never see me as more than something to protect, something to control. And now, I had to protect myself. Protect all of us. He’d sworn he was protecting me. But love that cages you isn’t love—it’s fear. And I wasn’t afraid anymore. Maybe fate carved the path beneath my feet, but choice—my choice—was the only weapon I had left to change where it led.

He looked like he was going to say something, but I didn’t wait. Couldn’t. The room was closing in, all the lies pressing down on me, making it impossible to breathe. I turned, the stones' glow following me like the curse, and ran straight into the hell I knew was waiting.

When I turned down the hall, I saw Tristan as soon as I heard the noise. It was a brutal symphony, the clash and thud and crack of everything we weren’t ready for. Ewan’s followers were everywhere, cutting off our escape, ripping apart what was left of me and Tristan’s plans. He fought like he’d never known what losing was, every punch and snarl a challenge, a dare. I felt the primal edge of my own wolf instincts and let them take over, let them fuel me with everything they had. We darted down the hall into the main chamber of the compound where Ewan and ten of his asshole followers were waiting for us.

“Cut the bullshit, Ewan,” Tristan barked out to the opposite side of the room. “We all know who the Alpha of this pack is, and it’ll never be you.”

Ewan's lips curled into a sneer, his hands flexing at his sides. “They didn’t seem to have much trouble turning their backs on you so quickly, now, did they?” he retorted.

“And who knows what lies you told them,” Tristan growled, his voice low and dangerous. “This ends now.”

Ewan's laughter was sharp and biting. “Power is what keeps us alive, Tristan. You've always been too soft to understand that.”

The words stung, but Tristan held his ground, the weight of leadership heavy on his shoulders. A dozen more angry wolves spilled in from the hallway, and it was clear we weren’t getting this place back without a fight. I was claws and teeth and fury until the wolfsbane bit deep, burning me from the inside out, dragging me down. In two seconds, we were surrounded, then trapped, then thrown into the heart of the mountain.

The fight had been a disaster, but not the slaughter Ewan’s wolves wanted. I’d seen the looks in their eyes, the grudging respect as they pulled us apart, as they half-dragged, half-carried us deeper into the compound. I’d felt Tristan struggling to get back to me, felt him losing ground as we were pulled in separate directions, lost in the mass of bodies and snarls. They’d bitten off more than they could chew, and they knew it. But that didn’t stop them from dragging us through their maze of tunnels, from throwing us into a cave that reeked of iron and old violence.

The cave felt like a tomb. A prison. The walls were rough, the ground cold beneath me as I scrambled to get up, to get to Tristan. I didn’t make it far before they had him in too, his body hitting the floor with a sickening thud. Just left us with nothing but the stones. The stones and the awful truth that we’d failed.

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