Pulled by Fate

Elira

Night falls heavily upon the pack house, and I am still violently scrubbing the stone floors, my bare hands blistered from the coarse, rough rag.

My stomach claws desperately at itself, hollow from days without any food, and my bones ache terribly from the endless labor.

People pass by, their cold glares harsh, some muttering cruel curses under their breath. I keep my head bent low, my scar itching under the torchlight—a silent mark of my deep shame.

I am far past caring about their hateful looks. I am furious at the moon goddess for cursing me with this difficult life, this branding scar, this bond to Kael that burns despite his furious rejection. I am furious at the terrible lies I have to live with every single day.

My wolf is only a faint pulse, too weak to fight back, completely drained by hunger and constant heartbreak.

I stand up, clutching my cleaning rags, and take a single, shaky step. My vision immediately blurs, my legs giving way, but a strong, firm hand instantly catches my elbow.

I look up, and Kael’s dark eyes pierce mine, intense and unreadable, gold flecks sparking brightly in the dim light. The mate bond suddenly surges, a rush of warm ache in my chest, and for a fleeting heartbeat, I long to lean into him, to let him take my weight and hold me.

“Why are you even out here?” he asks, his voice low, very rough, like he is struggling to swallow something bitter and metallic. “You should be resting in your cell.”

I swallow hard, my throat parched and dry. “They gave the order for me to work,” I say, my voice faint and strained. “Slaves do not get the choice to rest.”

His grip tightens further, not painful, but steady and undeniable. “You are barely standing upright,” he says, his tone sharp. “You will surely kill yourself doing this.”

“Why do you suddenly care?” I snap, violently pulling my arm free from his grasp. “You believe I am a murderer. Just leave me alone to my fate.”

His jaw instantly clenches, the mate bond pulsing violently between us, but I turn my face away. My weak knees buckle again beneath me, and the world immediately fades to a deep, terrible blackness.

…

I wake on a soft mattress, not the cell’s usual cold stone floor. My wrists ache terribly, heavily chained to the bedframe, the cold iron biting my skin.

My scar glints faintly in the pale moonlight that streams in through a narrow window. I am still a prisoner, just moved to a slightly different, softer cage.

The door swings open quietly, and a maid stalks into the room, her lips curled into a sneer of disgust. She harshly drops a tray of bread and thin, clear broth onto the bedside table.

“Alpha Kael says you must eat this,” she says, her voice dripping with undisguised disdain. “I do not know why he bothers with a cursed thing like you.”

I grab the piece of bread, my hands visibly trembling. “Thank you for this,” I say, but she instantly laughs, a sound cold and sharp.

“Do not thank me for anything,” she says with contempt. “You are still a killer. Kael is clearly wasting his valuable time on you.” She turns abruptly and leaves, the door violently slamming shut behind her.

I eat slowly and deliberately, the warm broth beginning to quiet my empty stomach, but it does nothing to silence the constant ache of the mate bond.

Why did Kael decide to do this? Why show me this tiny bit of kindness when he completely believes I am guilty? My wolf stirs faintly, a confused flicker deep within me, unsettled by his inconsistent actions.

The door opens again with a furious sound, and Mara storms into the room, her eyes blazing with pure fury. She snatches the empty tray violently, slamming it back down onto the table.

“What exactly is this display?” she snaps, furious. “You think Kael giving you this food means he suddenly cares? You are still nothing, Elira.”

“I did not ask for the food,” I say, my voice steady despite my extreme weakness. “I do not want or need his pity.”

She leans closer to my face, her voice dripping with venom. “Pity? That is all this is, Elira,” she hisses. “You truly think you can steal him with that cursed mate bond? He will never, ever want you for himself.”

“I do not want him,” I say firmly, the required lie bitter and dry on my tongue. “The mate bond is simply a curse, just exactly like me.”

Mara laughs, her cruel eyes gleaming. “Keep telling yourself that lie,” she says with absolute certainty. “You will never be anything more than a killer in his fierce eyes. Stay away from him entirely, or I will personally make sure you suffer. He belongs to Luna Liora and you are just nothing to him.”

“Get out of here,” I say, my voice sharp and final. “I am done with all of your constant, pathetic threats.”

She smirks maliciously, heading for the door. “You will always be seen as a killer,” she says. “No food, no soft bed, no Alpha will ever change that simple truth.” She violently slams the door, leaving me isolated and alone.

…

The guards come soon after, harshly yanking me from the bed and dragging my protesting body back to the dungeon cell.

They shove me inside the cell, and I slump weakly against the wall, my tired body screaming for immediate rest.

The small window above spills pale moonlight across my scar—a final, cruel reminder of my horrible fate. I close my eyes, craving the oblivion of sleep. Just a moment of true peace—surely that much cannot hurt me?

A large splash of ice-cold water instantly shocks me awake, completely soaking my face. I gasp sharply, my eyes flying open, and a burning pain sears my scalp as someone roughly yanks my hair. Liora looms menacingly over me, her crown glinting like a sharp blade, her face completely twisted with consuming rage.

“How many times must I finally tell you?” she hisses, pulling my hair harder. “Stay away from Alpha Kael! He does not want you, you cursed, filthy wretch!”

I blink rapidly, cold water streaming down my cheeks, confusion mixing with the raw pain.

“What are you even talking about?” I say, my voice hoarse from pain and exhaustion. “I did not do anything at all!”

She laughs, cold and completely vicious. “Do not play at being dumb,” she says. “You faked that ridiculous fall so Kael would have to catch you. You actually think you can seduce him with your pathetic little act?”

I laugh, weak but still defiant. “You are serious about this?” I say, meeting her furious gaze. “You actually woke me up from sleep for this? Just because I happened to fall down?”

She yanks my hair again, harder than before, her nails scratching my scalp deeply. “No,” she says, her voice low and utterly venomous. “I woke you up from your sleep because my mother has a very special task waiting for your cursed presence.”