Page 29 of The Alpha's Fallen Spell
I realize I’ve said a silly thing to the queen, and I feel flustered.
“This was my home,” Maya says after a minute or two. “I lived here with my mother when I first came to the palace.”
I glance at her, surprised. “I didn’t know.”
She nods, her eyes never leaving the ruins. “She died in there. When it went up in flames.” Her voice is steady, unemotional, but I can sense the pain beneath her words. “It’s been two years,but I still come here sometimes. To remember. She was a lovely person, gone before her time.”
I don’t know what to say. Grief is so personal, so unique to each person.
“Was it an accident?”
Her lips twist into a grimace at my question. “No. The fire was set, and I was the intended target. I spent a long time wishing I had been the one inside. Only Griffin was able to pull me back from the darkness. I want to live because of him, because of what we have built.”
“The fated mate bond is stronger than I realized,” I murmur, feeling the hollow ache in my chest.
“It is.” Maya looks at me with a smile.
I don’t smile back. Instead, I ask a question that has been weighing on me. “Are you happy like this? Being a shifter when you were once human? Do you ever wish you could go back?”
Maya is quiet for so long, I wonder if she heard me. When she finally speaks, her voice is thoughtful. “The bond I have with Griffin—I wouldn’t trade it for anything,” she says. “It is why I can’t imagine losing my wolf. The connection we share is worth everything I went through.”
Her words twist my insides. I look down at my hands, pale in the moonlight. “I don’t want to be a shifter,” I admit quietly. “I want to be human again. I want to live a human life.”
Maya turns her head to look at me, her expression unreadable in the darkness.
“I feel empty,” I continue, the words spilling out now that I’ve started. “I can connect with my wolf, yes. I’ve learned to shift, to control it. But I don’t want it. I want to feel safe. I want to be who I was before all of this happened.”
“You don’t know who you were,” Maya says gently. “The Silver Ring took most of the years of your life so far.”
“That’s true,” I acknowledge. “But there’s nothing for me here. When I was young, before they took me, my mother would tell me all the different things I could do with my life. I could study, achieve things, make something of myself.” I gesture vaguely at the palace behind us. “Besides reading and gaining knowledge, what am I doing here? What purpose do I have?”
Maya stiffens beside me. “Are you planning to leave?” she asks, alarm evident in her voice. After a pause, she adds, “What about Erik?”
I flinch at his name and try to hide it by looking away. “What about him?”
“Fiona—”
“I’m far too broken to be a good mate,” I burst out, the words bitter on my tongue. “I understand his decision. I would be nothing short of a burden to him.”
“That’s not true,” Maya says sharply. “Did he make you feel that way? Because if he did, I swear I’ll—”
“No,” I interrupt her quickly. “I’m not upset by his decision.” The lie comes easily. “But I want to have a life. I want to feel something again.” I meet her eyes directly now. “Is there any way I can get rid of my wolf? Become human again?”
Maya looks stunned. “You would give up your shifter abilities? Completely?”
“Not every person forced to become a shifter wants to live that life,” I say softly. “Some of us just want to be normal again.”
She falls silent, considering my words. The night sounds fill the space between us—crickets chirping, leaves rustling, the distant call of an owl.
“I’ll look into it,” she says ultimately. “I can’t promise anything, but if there’s a way to give you the life you want, the freedom you need, I’ll try to find it.” She reaches over and covers my hand with hers. “But Fiona, I want you to know that youare not a burden. Not to me, not to Griffin, not to Erik. Not to anyone in this palace.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. She believes what she’s saying, I can tell. But she’s wrong.
After a few more minutes of quiet conversation, Maya squeezes my hand and stands. “Try to get some rest,” she says. “And think about what I said.”
I watch her walk away, her figure fading into the shadows. When she’s gone, I remain on the bench, staring at the ruins of her former home. There’s something poetic about it—the way a destroyed thing can still hold meaning, still be worth visiting.
As I get up to leave, a movement at the edge of my vision catches my attention. I slide behind a nearby tree, an old habit of hiding that I can’t seem to break.
