Page 19

“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.”

“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 pulled away, 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 could believe 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.

The compound was a storm of chaos, wolves everywhere, a blur of fur and fangs and rage.

We skidded to a halt, barely processing the scene before it shifted and changed again.

Ewan was at the heart of it, rallying the pack with accusations and shouts.

His voice cut through the noise, every word a stab at Tristan.

“Your obsession with this outsider has weakened you,” he yelled.

“The pack deserves a leader who puts Stormvale first.” The words struck with brutal clarity, and I saw wolves breaking ranks, half joining Ewan while others hesitated, caught in the growing divide.

Tristan’s expression was a mix of anger and something deeper, an old hurt opening fresh and raw.

“Ewan!” he called out, but his voice was lost in the uproar.

It was a coup. It hit like a gut punch. Before I could react, Tristan’s hand was on mine, pulling me away from the fray.

“We need to go. Now,” he said, the urgency in his voice cutting through the confusion and fear.

We turned to race back toward the trees, dodging the chaos left and right.

The noise was deafening, a storm of snarls and yelps and bodies crashing against each other as they defended their side. Ewan stood on a raised platform, like some twisted ringmaster in the center of a violent circus. His brown eyes glinted with a fervor that chilled me to the bone.

“You've lost your way, Tristan,” Ewan shouted, his words cutting through the clamor like a knife. “You've lost your right to lead.”

I felt Tristan’s grip on my hand tighten, a reflexive clench against the betrayal that surrounded us.

The wolves were splitting before our eyes.

Some looked back at Tristan, uncertain, their loyalty stretching like a thin, fragile thread.

Others turned away, heads low as they sided with Ewan, falling in line with the harsh certainty of his accusations.

“Tristan, what do we do?” My voice sounded small, even to me.

He looked at me, the fury in his eyes barely masking a deeper, older hurt. “We don’t have a choice,” he said. His jaw set in determination, the kind that comes when you’ve lost everything and have nothing left but to fight your way back.

I didn’t want to leave, not like this. But Ewan’s voice rose again, and the raw, animal intensity of it sent a chill through me.

“He’ll drag you down with him, Serena!” Ewan’s gaze locked onto mine, fierce and sure. “You don’t belong here. You were born to betray us.”

The words hit harder than they should have, given all I’d been through. Given how many times I’d heard them before. I wasn’t going to hear them again, not if I could help it. Tristan pulled me closer, his expression shifting from anger to something sharper, more urgent.

“Trust me,” he said, low and fierce.

And I did. Despite everything. Maybe because of everything.

We turned from the chaos, sprinting for the cover of the forest. My heart thundered in my chest, a wild rhythm of fear and defiance and raw, unyielding hope.

Tristan's eyes met mine, a silent understanding passing between us as the chaos of the coup faded into the distance.

Without a word, he never broke stride as his form began to shift and blur in a mesmerizing dance of transformation.

Rich black fur sprouted from his ankles first all the way up his back, the sound of his bones snapping loudly just as he dropped to all fours.

In a matter of seconds, Tristan became the fierce alpha wolf with fur as dark as midnight running before me.

Time seemed to slow down as I watched in awe, the air crackling with an electric energy that tingled on my skin.

Heart pounding in my chest, I felt a surge of something primal stir within me, an ancient call that echoed through my veins.

As if in a trance, I let go of all hesitation and embraced the wild magic coursing through my being.

With a rush of power and sensation, my own body twisted and contorted, morphing into the sleek form of a silver-haired wolf as we sprinted through the woods.

My senses exploded—the sharp tang of pine needles, the whisper of a squirrel too high in the trees, the power of my limbs as they hit the ground in rhythm with his.

For once, I wasn’t running away. I was running with him.

We moved fast, too fast to think about anything other than putting distance between us and the madness behind. The trees blurred past, a streak of green and brown and shadow as we tore through the woods. I stumbled, my lungs burning, but Tristan was there, always there, pulling me forward.

“Serena, keep up,” he called in my mind, urgency lacing every word.

I pushed harder, matching his pace, matching the desperation that fueled our flight.

When we finally halted, breathless and exhausted, I couldn’t tell if the trembling in my legs was from running or the adrenaline of knowing we’d just left everything behind.

I met Tristan’s eyes, saw the same mix of disbelief and grim determination reflected in them.

We quickly shifted back into our human forms to catch our breath.

“That was—” I started, but couldn’t finish. Words felt inadequate for the enormity of what had just happened.

“A clusterfuck,” Tristan said, raw and ragged. It was the most honest thing I’d ever heard.

We stood there, in the dark embrace of the forest, letting the magnitude of our escape settle over us.

I didn’t know what was next, but I knew I wasn’t alone.

Not in this, not in anything. I clung to that as fiercely as I’d clung to Tristan’s hand.

As fiercely as I’d clung to my hope, despite everything.

We didn’t look back. Not at the fire behind us, not at the betrayal. Only forward—into the night, into the unknown, into whatever fate had left for two wolves born to defy it.