The Fated Cused

Chapter 5

If only she had possessed the strength of will to say no. If only she had refused to listen to Mira and her spiteful friends, none of this nightmare would be happening. She should never have allowed them to intimidate and bully her into accompanying them on that foolish venture to the forbidden garden. Had she stood her ground instead of cowering in fear, she would never be standing here now, bound by a terrible compulsion that ruins everything she holds dear.

The dam finally breaks, and the tears she has been struggling to hold back for endless hours come spilling forth in hot, rushing waves. What is she supposed to do now? She stands before him, weeping like a child, and she can feel the heavy gaze of that enormous, rough-hewn Alpha upon her. With eyes the color of dulled silver and thick, curving wolf ears that speak of his powerful lineage, he stares at her with a look of utter blankness, as if he cannot comprehend how anyone could be so foolish as to put themselves in such a position.

And he is right. She is a fool. Who else but an i***t would agree to such a reckless, dangerous plan? Who else would sneak into the private grounds of a powerful sorceress under the cover of darkness, just to steal something as fragile and deceptive as flowers?

Her mind drifts back uncontrollably to the previous night—was it really only yesterday that everything was normal?—and she sees herself clearly inside the dormitory at the temple…

She was already dressed in her soft nightgown, curled comfortably beneath the covers with a heavy volume resting on her lap. It was the Ancients' Book of Magic, a text she studied religiously. She knows she does not yet possess great power, but she is determined to be ready, to prepare her mind and spirit for the day when the Goddess of the Moon sees fit to bless her with more ability.

But she is acutely aware of the price of that blessing. The Goddess will only grant her favor to those who remain pure and untouched. It is a rule that has been drilled into their minds since the day they first entered these sacred walls, repeated so often it is etched into her very soul. The Goddess does not permit her priestesses to engage in carnal relations with anyone except their one true Fated Mate.

And ever since the event known as the Fallen—when the veil between the realms grew thick, and most of the Gods were pushed far away, severing their close ties with humanity—finding one’s destined partner has become nearly impossible. It is a rare miracle that happens to almost no one anymore. Consequently, the vast majority of them devote their entire lives to service, remaining celibate and alone forever.

Anastasia did not mind that fate. In truth, it is difficult to mourn or miss something you have never experienced or known. Besides, the temple is the only home she has ever known.

She was left there as a tiny infant, swaddled in a basket with nothing but a simple note asking the Priestess to take her in and raise her as one of their own. Her whole world has been built upon prayer, modesty, and quiet devotion. Her innocence was absolute, untouched by the harshness of the world… until Mira and her clique set their sights on her.

She had lived in relative solitude for years, rarely speaking to others, until she reached the age where she could be officially dedicated to the Goddess and become a full acolyte. That was when she was moved into the large communal dormitories—vast, cavernous halls filled with rows of cots, housing a few dozen young women at a time.

It was a place of constant noise, filled with chatter, arguments, and endless giggling. The drama and politics among them seemed never to cease, and she found it overwhelming.

She missed her old room desperately, even though it had been no larger than a small closet. She missed the silence. She missed being able to breathe without being watched. You simply cannot find a moment of peace in that place, especially not when someone like Mira has decided that you are her favorite target.

Anastasia tells herself now that it is not her fault Mira dislikes her so intensely. She is known for being quiet, studious, and preferring books to company; she should have been invisible to someone like her. Mira is the life of every gathering, loud and witty, forever making the other girls laugh while she tosses her beautiful, straight blonde hair with practiced ease.

She is a true pure-blood witch, born of ancient and powerful lines, whereas Anastasia is merely a half-breed, tainted by unknown blood. By all rights, she should have been beneath Mira’s notice.

Unfortunately for her, she stumbled upon Mira’s secret not long after she moved in.

She had wandered out onto the temple grounds, desperate to escape the constant noise and chatter inside. She just wanted a quiet corner where she could read without being judged or disturbed. She found the perfect sanctuary at the foot of a massive, ancient tree—one of the patriarchs of the forest, whom they affectionately call a "Life of Three" because they have stood for so long and hold so much history.

“Greetings, Old One,” she had whispered, bowing her head respectfully to the massive trunk. “I hope you do not mind if I rest in your shadow for a while.”

As her fingers brushed against the rough, textured bark, she felt a faint, deep vibration thrumming up her arm, almost like a low hum. She recognized the sensation immediately from her studies; it was the tree’s way of welcoming her, granting her permission to stay.

“Thank you,” she murmured, stroking the bark once more in gratitude. Growing thickly around the base of the trunk was a cluster of tall, elegant sweet rushes, their pale purple heads reaching high into the air. They formed a natural screen, a perfect hiding place that would shield her from anyone who might come looking.

Technically speaking, it was still the hour reserved for household duties, but Anastasia had already completed her own assigned tasks, having swept and scrubbed every inch of the stone floors in the great kitchen until they shone. Even so, she knew the rules well enough; if any of the strict Priestesses were to spot her idling, they would undoubtedly force her to remain and assist others until every last duty was finished.

Normally, she would not have minded lending a helping hand, but on that particular day, the constant noise and chatter of the other girls had become utterly unbearable. She felt as though she were suffocating in their midst, and her soul was crying out for just a little bit of silence and privacy. That was the sole reason she had crept away to hide amongst the tall, swaying rushes, settling herself comfortably against the sturdy, rough bark of the ancient tree they called a "Life of Three," seeking solace within its protective shadow.

However, she had barely managed to open the heavy leather cover of her book and read the first few lines of complex magical theory when the sound of hushed whispers and suppressed giggles drifting through the air made her freeze.

“This way!” a voice called out softly, laced with amusement. “Hurry now, surely no one will find us here.”