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Chapter nine

Serena

T he walls seemed to close in on me, turning my chamber into a cozy prison as I flipped through the ancient tomes Tristan gave me earlier tonight.

Celestial stones, moons, curses—they swam before my eyes like taunting riddles.

The candle’s dim glow painted everything in murky shades of dread, but I couldn’t let it go.

Not now. Not with so much on the line. Just when I thought my brain might leak out of my ears, a soft tap sounded at the door.

I found a letter waiting like a time bomb.

Lila’s hurried scrawl sent a shiver up my spine before I even opened it.

Her words left me gutted, barely able to hold the paper steady as I read.

My father had been playing puppet master all along.

Years of manipulation, and with help from inside Stormvale.

The air left my lungs, anger simmering like a storm ready to blow.

He’d been stringing me along, the bastard.

Playing me like one of his stupid chess pieces.

He knew. About everything. The stones. The prophecy. Me. And he used me anyway.The letter spelled it out in cruel clarity—Alaric hadn’t just withheld the truth. He’d helped orchestrate this, feeding information to someone inside Stormvale. Someone close to Tristan.

My stomach turned as I remembered the conversation I overhead from outside the cave when Tristan and I were attacked. Was it Ewan? The thought that someone here was feeding my father information made my skin crawl.

My hands shook as I left the room, the letter crumpled and ready to explode in my fist. I wanted to scream, but all that came out was a choked whisper of disbelief.

How could he do this? It wasn’t enough to keep me caged my whole life; he had to reach into this one too, using some traitor to mess with my head.

I picked up my pace, my breathing uneven, as if my body couldn’t keep up with the chaos in my mind.

I found Tristan hunched over a desk that looked like a warzone of maps and scattered papers. He didn’t notice me until I slammed the door, making him jerk upright.

“Serena?” His icy blue eyes pierced through me, filled with concern and maybe a hint of fear. I wondered if he knew, if everyone but me had been in on this sick little game.

“Years,” I said, shoving the letter in front of him. “He’s been doing this for years.”

Tristan scanned Lila’s note, his jaw tightening with every word. “Alaric.” He stood so suddenly his chair scraped backward. “He knew we were fated.” His voice was low, dangerous. “He’s been planning this since before you and I ever met.”

“Alaric,” I echoed, the name tasting like ash in my mouth. “And someone here. Some asshole in this pack.”

He pushed the maps aside, making room for me. “Let’s figure this out. All of it.”

I sat next to him, my anger morphing into a tight, hot knot of determination. We spread the maps across the desk, marking the places that mattered. Each circle felt like a stab wound.

“Here,” Tristan pointed, “where we first captured you.”

“Not captured,” I corrected, heat flaring up my neck. “Where I was stupid enough to get caught.”

“Serena—” His voice was softer now, like he was trying to take the edge off. It wasn’t working.

“No, it makes sense,” I interrupted, piecing the puzzle together with each ragged breath. “My pack doesn’t trust me. Never did. They send me away, knowing you’d grab me. Keeping me here like some sort of—”

“Pawn,” Tristan finished, anger threading his words. He pulled a map closer. “They had to know you’d end up with me. They counted on it.”

I glanced at him, feeling something thaw between us. It scared me. It excited me. I twisted a lock of hair around my finger, trying to keep my emotions in check. “It’s the curse, isn’t it? Alaric wants to break it, and he’ll do anything to get those stones.”

“And he doesn’t care who gets hurt in the process.” Tristan looked at me, really looked at me, like he was seeing more than the mess of a girl sitting next to him.

I felt my birthmark tingle under his gaze, an electric pulse that made the air around us shimmer. Our fingers brushed as we both reached for the same map, and I saw it—felt it—glow.

He pulled back, eyes flickering to mine. “We can do this. Together.”

I took a breath, the knot in my chest loosening just enough to speak. “I’m done playing his games.”

Tristan nodded, rolling the map up with careful hands. “Then let’s end this.”

We stood, side by side, united against the tide of betrayal threatening to swallow us whole. My heart drummed a wild rhythm, keeping time with the chaos, the hope, and the anger still burning strong. Tristan’s hands found their way to my waist and pulled me closer to him, his gaze locked on mine.

My breath caught as Tristan stepped in, closing the distance like the weight of everything between us had finally broken. His eyes searched mine—not for permission, but for confirmation. That I was here. That I was his. That I wanted this, too.

I did. Gods help me, I did.

I rose on my toes and met him halfway. The kiss wasn't gentle. It was heat and fury, defiance and need. His hands tightened at my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I wrapped my fingers into the back of his shirt, holding on like he was the only real thing left in the world.

Everything we’d held back came pouring out. The betrayal, the hurt, the impossible pull between us. His mouth moved over mine like he was starving for answers only I could give. I tasted fire and rage and something terrifyingly close to hope.

For a moment, the world outside didn’t exist. There was no curse. No prophecy. No packs, no fathers, no enemies at the gates.

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 your true 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 for me. 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?”