Page 7 of A Warrior's Fate

This feeling wasn’t normal, and her traitorous mind thought the worst.

But no, it couldn’t be. It didn’t fit the descriptions.

Along with the alphas and their councils, the feast brought together warriors of Hunt’s passed. Isla took her assigned seat at the long table across from two of them she knew. Both Alina and Orson were native to different packs, but after reigning victorious in the Hunt and serving their time as warriors, they had taken the current relative peace the packs were having to settle in Io. Not an uncommon practice.

Both had the specialties, wisdom, and experience trainees were nipping to get their hands on, that Isla could use, but she couldn’t get herself to focus on their advice for tomorrow’s events.

No—because Kai’s stare was on her back. She felt it, bearing, burning into her. And Goddess be damned if she turned to meet it.

She clenched her fork tighter in her hand.

This cannot be what’s happening.

Isla snapped her head up from her plate. Someone had to have an answer for her.

“You two are mated, right?” she asked the warriors once they’d trailed off from their topic, respectfully. “Not to each other, obviously.”

They both looked at one another, taken aback by the random line of questioning. Alina seemed far more amused than Orson did.

“Yes, we are.” She glanced at him in case she’d remembered the fact incorrectly. Unsure of Isla’s goal of the query, she lobbied back some small talk. “And you aren’t, correct?”

“No.” The word fell out of Isla’s mouth like the alternative was the worst prospect in the world, which was pretty much her opinion on the matter. At least, at this point in her life. But she wasn’t going to tell them that and potentially get locked in some debate on whether finding a mate was worth it.

She had to make sure that a few minutes ago, she hadn’t.

She cleared her throat and pushed around the vegetables on her plate. “Did you choose or was it a fated deal, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Alina narrowed her eyes suspiciously but still donned her entertained smile. “Fated.”

“Fate,” Orson echoed.

Isla’s eyebrows shot up.

It wasn’t common to come across one’s destined mate. In fact, the increasing rarity had become a concern for some. The continent was so expansive, the packs so large and spread out, unless your mate by some happenstance also lived within your region, unless you had means for consistent travel or attended the events meant to bring unmated wolves together, there was a low chance you’d find each other. Most ended up settling with another wolf of their choosing. Still strong bonds—loyal, loving bonds—but not a connection woven by a deity’s hand.

If Isla were being honest, she thought that was the better option of the two—the choice—even with the risks and consequences that she’d witnessed firsthand.

She took a bite of food, and it felt like ash in her mouth, then lead in her stomach. “How did you know?”

“You want me to give you the play-by-play?” Orson seemed more tickled now, innuendo in his tone.

“You don’t have to get that detailed.” Isla smiled to mask the queasiness. “I just want to know how you knew. You saw your mates and what? The seas parted, starlight rained from the heavens…”

“I don’t know what fairytale you’re living in, but Fate’s not that innocuous.” Orson laughed. “If it’s actually her doing, she’ll let you know.”

“It’s like the feeling of sealing the bond with your chosen mate, but amplified by a thousand, it’s crazy.” Alina was beaming and her eyes looked distant, as if reminiscing. “And that’s just the initial attraction. Everything else that follows is…intense.” The warrior leaned in, half-covering her mouth as she whispered, “And really good.”

Orson scoffed. “Until it isn’t.”

Isla could see on his face, reading between the lines, one of the unfortunate aftereffects of a fated attraction.

No one knew for sure how Fate decided who belonged together. Some speculated it was a matter of matched strength. Others, who would bear the best offspring. Others, opposites who would fill in what the other lacked.

The common theme, though, was the lack of autonomy. Most of the time, fated mates were complete strangers who had the decision to either take on life together from the moment they met or reject Fate’s wishes and face horrible, hellish pain in her retaliation. That retribution, sometimes, was even fatal.

Most went with option A—avoiding the feeling of being torn apart from the inside—and not all of them were in the happiest of relationships.

Isla bit into a piece of steak, chewing slowly. “So, it’s a feeling?”

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