Page 22 of Cursed By Fate

And a signature I knew too well.E.

My pulse spiked. That location was too close to Silver Ridge territory. Too familiar.

I read it again. Once. Twice. Each time, the truth sank deeper.

Ewan. The wolf I would’ve died for was the one leading me to ruin.

He didn’t just distrust Serena. He hated her. He made no secret of it, and maybe that should have been a clue. His reaction to her capture was all fury, all venom. It came from a place I thought was loyalty. It came from somewhere else.

The room spun around me, and I had to steady myself against the desk. The idea of Ewan's betrayal hit hard, as hard as anything I’d ever felt. Maybe harder. I wanted to tear something apart. I wanted to find Ewan and confront him. I wanted to put an end to this before it destroyed us all.

My father’s voice echoed in my mind, telling me to stay strong, stay focused. But how could I, when the one I trusted most had turned? When everything I thought I knew was unraveling faster than I could keep up? I thought Morrigan’s riddle meant the wolf to ruin our pack and my mate were the same person, but maybe I was wrong again.

Anger burned in me, but so did disbelief. That Ewan would do this. That he’d risk our entire legacy. That he’d risk me. But wasn’t that what I was doing too? Risking it all for Serena? Did I even know if she was as clueless as she seemed? Was this part of her plan, to pit us against each other?

I remembered the night Ewan stood between me and a blade meant for my throat. We were barely more than pups. He bled for me. Now he’d bleed me dry. The room felt smaller than it had when I first shut the door. Smaller and filled with doubt. It was choking me, squeezing the air from my lungs, from the entire mountain. I didn’t know if I could trust anyone, especially myself. But I had to know. I had to know the truth, even if it meant facing down the one wolf who had always been at my side.

I resolved to confront Ewan, but the hesitation was there. I could feel it crawling under my skin, colder than the mountain air that seeped in through the window. If he had betrayed me, betrayed the pack, then what? What did that mean for everything I thought I knew? What did it mean for me and Serena?

I wanted to scream the question to the ceiling, to the rocks and the wind and the spirits of the wolves that came before me. But I couldn’t. All I could do was whisper it to the empty room, my voice breaking like the faith I used to have: “Am I strong enough to do what needs to be done?”

I stood there, feeling more exposed than I ever had. More alone. The idea of my best friend turning on me was a weight I couldn’t lift, a wound that bled out onto everything. Onto the pack, onto Serena, onto the memory of my father and what he would have wanted me to do.

Moonlight spilled through the crystal window, stretching its pale fingers across the room until it reached me. It lit my expression, my clenched fists, the question that refused to let me go. It wouldn’t leave, no matter how much I wanted to drive it out. The pack is everything—but if the pack is rotting from the inside, who do I protect? The legacy… or the truth? The mark on my shoulder flared up again, sharp and insistent. Like it knew the decision was already made, and it didn’t care if I bled for it. I wouldn’t run from it. I couldn’t. Not this time. Not when the stakes were this high, and I had more to lose than ever before.

The mountain whispered through the walls, ancient and alive. And for the first time, I wondered if it was warning me—or her.

Chapter seven

Serena

We moved together, Tristan and I, navigating the rocky mountain trail with a fragile sense of purpose. Tense but civil, I could almost convince myself it wasn’t an awkward first date. After dinner last night he insisted we needed answers about our birthmarks and that this trek into the wilderness might give us a clue. I should’ve said no. Should’ve refused to follow him into the woods, especially after the dream. But something in the way he said we needed answers… it hookedinto the part of me still desperate to believe in fate. Besides, what’s a couple of hours in the woods with the alpha of your rival pack? Romantic. Or a death wish.

“This trail better lead somewhere helpful,” I muttered, glancing sideways at Tristan’s unreadable face. He looked too calm. Too in control. Was this some elaborate trap? Was I walking straight into my father’s hands?

“Keep up, Sterling,” Tristan called back, as if my name was an insult. The cocky smirk on his face made me want to race ahead, just to prove I could.

“I'm giving you a head start,” I shot back. He didn’t need to know I was saving my strength for the downhill run. Or retreat.

He slowed enough for me to catch up, and we walked in step for a few moments, the path winding higher into the heart of the mountain. An eagle screamed overhead, probably annoyed we were intruding. Tristan glanced at me, a question in his eyes.

“Do you really think this will help us figure out what’s going on?” I asked, more to fill the silence than because I needed reassurance.

“The old ways hold answers. It’s up to us to find them,” he said, vague and serious.

Our hands brushed again, for the eighth time since we started. His touch sparked through me like an electric current, and I saw him glance at the mark on my wrist before pulling away. My heart kicked up, traitorous as always around him.

Tristan quickened his pace, either eager to get there or to avoid more awkward contact. We came out onto a narrow ledge that overlooked the valley below, our territory stretching into the distance. It was the first time I'd seen it from this perspective, and a twinge of longing hit me, unexpected and unwelcome.

“Getting homesick?” Tristan asked. His tone was light, but I didn’t miss the undercurrent.

“Like you’d give me time to pack,” I shot back.

I twisted a lock of hair around my finger, hiding behind the familiar gesture. In truth, his territory was impressive—more than that, really. Beautiful in a wild, rugged way that got under my skin. And with my father keeping secrets from me, I was on my own to finally find the answers to this curse. That was the one thing I never understood. We both wanted the same outcome – to end this gods-forsaken plague over my life – yet he treated me like a prisoner with no freedom to fight for myself.

Tristan turned away, leading us past a crumbling stone wall. It was so ancient it looked more like a pile of rocks. Old words and faded symbols decorated the stones, their meanings lost to time. I caught up with him as the path sloped down, feeling the change in the air. Like we were stepping into another world.

Ahead, a circle of stones emerged from the mist, serene and eerie. They jutted from the ground like the mountain's teeth, their surfaces carved with runes that twisted my brain in strange directions when I tried to decipher them. The whole place buzzed with something ancient and alive.

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