Page 18 of Cursed By Fate

Just that. No explanation, no demand for thanks. It hit harder than any threat.

We stood at the edge of the firelight for a breath longer, shoulder to shoulder. Then he tilted his head toward the hall.

His eyes met mine, and his face did that infuriating alpha thing—half amused, half “get ready to have a bad time.” He opened his mouth, and I braced myself for something cocky or infuriating. Instead, he extended an arm. “Ready?” he asked. The word was both a question and a challenge, floating in the space between us.

I blinked, actually caught off guard. Then I shifted my expression back to default sarcasm. “Well, aren’t you the gentleman,” I said. I slipped my arm through his before he could withdraw it, half-expecting to catch it halfway back to his side. It stayed right where it was. Damn him.

He led me away from the fire and toward the noisy, warm light of the dining hall. “Everyone’s curious about our guest,” he said, looking sideways at me. “Figured it’d be better if I walked you in instead of letting Ewan drag you kicking and screaming.”

“That was thoughtful,” I said. “In a suspiciously uncharacteristic way.” My gaze stayed straight ahead, but I felt him watching me, like he was taking mental notes or some kind of inventory. My hand twitched toward my hair again.

We paused at the entrance, the sound of clinking plates and clattering voices pouring out into the corridor. Tristan’s arm tensed under my hand. “You’ll be fine,” he said, like I was the one who needed reassurance. The nerve. “It’s just dinner.”

I made a face like he had just suggested torture. “If this is some kind of elaborate plan to get me to confess all my pack’s secrets over dessert, you’re going to be disappointed.”

He smirked. “Let’s call it a diplomatic mission, then.” Before I could shoot back, he pulled me into the dining hall.

It was a universe away from the icy, uncomfortable meals back home. I had to keep my jaw from dropping like I’d never seen a room with a bunch of tables before. People sat crammed together, talking and laughing like they actually liked each other. The air smelled like heaven on a plate—roasted meat and fresh bread, spicy cider and something sweet. I watched a woman ruffle the hair of the man next to her and got an uninvited pang of envy. String lights were hung back and forth between the exposed wooden beams above, casting a warm glow over the cozy dining hall.

“Well, this is…quaint,” I managed to get out.

“Hey now, don’t mock mountain living,” Tristan joked as he shoved his elbow into my side.

“I’m not,” I laughed. “This is just a lot more…family fun than I’m used to.”

“Well maybe I can help you get used to it,” he replied as he met my gaze, which almost made me weak in the knees.

What the hell was that?

Tristan led me to the front, his grip on my arm just short of claiming. Every few steps, I felt eyes land on us. On me. Conversations dropped to a low hum, curiosity spiking in the air.

He stopped us at the head table, letting go of my arm so fast I almost stumbled. “This is Serena,” he said, ignoring the obvious fact that every soul in the room was already gawking at me like a circus attraction. I squared my shoulders and resisted the urge to flip them all off.

No one spoke for a second, and then a red-haired guy grinned at me from across the table. “Is she under duress?” he asked, mock-concerned. Tristan sent him a look that was not as amused as it could have been.

“This is Bram,” Tristan said. “Don’t listen to a word he says.”

Bram gave a wounded expression. “You have to be so careful with the rival packs these days, especially an alpha’s daughter,” he said. “They’re always stealing things, like our pack members or our alpha’s heart.”

Before I could decide how to answer that, Tristan nudged me toward a tall woman with a long black braid, ignoring Bram’s comment completely. “Renna. Our top hunter.”

Renna tilted her head. “Good luck out there, Silver Ridge,” she said with an approving smile that didn’t entirely hide the skepticism. “Make sure you watch your back.”

“I have to,” I said, pretending to sound wounded. “It’s such a nice one.”

A few of the pack members laughed. Bram held up his drink and looked at me like we were old pals. “And she’s funny!” he declared. “I like this one, Alpha. Can we keep her?”

“No promises,” Tristan said.

A dozen more faces flashed in front of me, too fast for me to remember names or roles, but Tristan seemed to want me to meet everyone in the universe. Every introduction came with a warm touch on my back that made my skin tingle and my headspin in a way I really, really didn’t want to think about. Every time I told myself I was imagining things, that the gestures meant nothing, and that this was all some sneaky trick.

He finally guided me into a seat, sitting beside me like he might need to fend off his wolves at any second. Maybe he did. Maybe I did.

We watched the pack fill in around us, and I realized my face hurt from trying to hold a smile. There was so much damn cheer everywhere. It was a physical presence, crowding around me like another opponent.

Tristan leaned close enough that I caught the dark, woodsy smell of him. “How’s it going over there?” he asked, like I was on some remote island of civilization. “Surviving?”

I studied the crowded tables. All that warmth, all that energy. I didn’t know what to do with it. “You think this is going to break me?” I asked. “Nice try, but I’ve survived worse.”

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