Page 30 of The Alpha's Fallen Spell
Two figures walk along a distant path, their silhouettes clear in the moonlight.
Erik and Elina.
They move together with an easy familiarity. She laughs at something he says, the sound carrying faintly on the night air. They look right together—both strong, confident, whole. Both born shifters who understand this world in ways I never will.
I watch as they reach the edge of the woods. In perfect synchronicity, they shift—their human forms melting away to reveal powerful wolves. Erik’s dark gray coat gleams silver in the moonlight. Elina’s sleek black form moves alongside his as they race into the forest.
Jealousy comes, sharp and painful. I recognize it this time, acknowledge it, then push it away. There’s no point to it. Erik made his choice, and it wasn’t me.
The jealousy is followed by a pang of loneliness. I don’t know what to do with it, with this aching. I don’t know where to put it or bury it. It’s a different pain from what I have experienced before. There’s no physical source of it.
Seeing Erik with Elina makes me feel like I have no place in this world. I have no one to call my own, no one in whose arms I can hide, no one who will protect me. I had thought that Erik was that person, but he dispelled my delusions pretty quickly.
Maybe it’s better this way. He needs a mate who was born in this world, someone who understands his responsibilities, his position. Someone not shattered into a thousand jagged bits.
I press my palm against my chest where the hollow ache lives. One day, I tell myself. One day, I’ll find all my broken pieces and put them back together. They may not fit perfectly—there will be cracks, missing parts—but I’ll be whole enough.
Maybe then, someone will love me. Even if it isn’t my fated mate.
I step out from behind the tree and make my way back to the palace, leaving Erik and Elina to their midnight run. Each step feels heavy, weighty with loss and longing. But I keep walking.
This is what I do best—survive, move forward, adapt. I’ve done it for twenty years. I can do it for twenty more if I have to.
As I reach the palace doors, I glance back once at the moonlit forest. My wolf whimpers inside me, yearning to run with our mate, even if he doesn’t want us.
“No,” I whisper aloud. “He doesn’t want you. And that’s okay.”
The words feel empty, a hollow comfort. But I repeat them anyway as I climb the stairs back to my cold bedroom.
I wake to sunlight streaming across my face. I must have fallen asleep on the balcony again. My body aches from the hard stone, but I don’t mind. Physical discomfort is familiar, almost comforting in its predictability.
A soft knock at my door pulls me from my thoughts. I quickly slip inside the room, running my fingers through my tangled hair before calling out, “Come in.”
Maya enters, carrying a small tray with a teapot on it. Her smile seems forced, tense around the edges. “Good morning,” she says, setting the tray on a nearby table. “I thought we could talk.”
Her tone makes my stomach clench. “About what?”
She pours tea into two delicate cups and hands one to me. “About what you asked me the other night. About removing your wolf.”
My fingers tighten around the warm cup. “You found something?”
“Maybe.” She sits on the edge of my bed, looking more serious than I’ve ever seen her. “I’ve been doing some research and consulting with witches and healers who specialize in genetics and transformations.”
I sit across from her, hardly daring to breathe. “And?”
“There may be a way.” Maya’s voice is careful, measured. “It’s experimental, and there are risks. But theoretically, since your shifter gene was artificially activated, it could be, well, deactivated.”
Hope flutters in my chest, fragile as a baby bird. “How?”
“It would involve a series of treatments. Some tests first, to understand exactly what they did to activate the gene. Then a combination of magical and scientific interventions to reverse the process.” She pauses, studying my face. “But Fiona, there are serious risks. Your wolf is part of you now. Removing it could harm you, maybe even kill you.”
I absorb this, turning the teacup between my palms. “What would the tests entail?”
“Blood draws, mainly. Tissue samples.” Her eyes soften with understanding. “I know how difficult that might be for you, given your past.”
Memories flash through my mind—cold, metal tables, needles, scalpels. My hands begin to tremble, tea sloshing dangerously close to the rim of my cup.
“You don’t have to decide now,” Maya adds quickly. “Take time to think—”
