Chapter 7: The Night Fate Chose
1173 Words
I jerked back like the trees had slapped me.
Rowan’s hand shot out and caught my wrist before I could take another step toward the dark. His grip was firm—too firm—like he was holding onto a mistake he couldn’t afford to make.
“Elara,” he said, low and sharp, “don’t.”
His voice snapped something in me. I blinked hard and sucked in a shaky breath. The pull in my chest—toward the woods—didn’t vanish, but it loosened, like whatever was calling me decided to wait.
My wrist throbbed where Rowan held me.
Everyone was moving now. The pack backed away from the clearing in messy waves, their faces tight with fear and confusion. Someone grabbed a child and hurried toward the lodge. The drums stopped completely, leaving the crackle of the bonfire to fill the silence.
Elder Grant raised his hands, trying to reclaim control. “Rowan, we cannot abandon the rites—”
Rowan didn’t look at him. “We are abandoning them,” he said.
His tone wasn’t disrespectful. It was final.
Sierra, pale and furious, stepped forward like she couldn’t help herself. “This is ridiculous. It’s probably just a rogue—”
Another whisper slid from the woods.
“Elara…”
Sierra went still, the words dying on her tongue.
People froze again.
I didn’t want to look, but my body did it anyway—like my muscles were no longer mine.
Between the trees, moonlight pooled on the ground like silver water. Shadows moved on the edges. I couldn’t see the figure clearly now, but I could feel it, like a pressure behind my eyes.
Rowan shifted his stance, blocking my view with his shoulder. “Inside,” he ordered again, louder. “Lock the doors. Everyone.”
This time the pack listened without arguing. Fear is a better leader than tradition.
Lorraine grabbed my elbow, pulling me backward. “Come on.”
My feet dragged. Not because I wanted to stay. Because the bond in my chest was doing something new—tightening and loosening in strange pulses, like it was searching for a rhythm.
I stumbled on the edge of the clearing.
Rowan’s hand slid from my wrist to my forearm, steadying me. That contact sent heat shooting up my skin.
My breath hitched.
Rowan felt it too. His grip tightened for half a second, then loosened like he’d been burned.
He looked down at his hand on my arm.
Then he looked at my face.
His eyes weren’t calm anymore.
They were… unsettled.
Like the Alpha everyone trusted had just found something he didn’t understand.
“Move,” Lorraine hissed.
I forced my legs to obey. We crossed the clearing fast, weaving through people who kept glancing back toward the woods.
The lodge doors slammed shut behind us.
A bar dropped into place.
Someone locked the deadbolt.
For a few seconds, the only sound was panicked breathing and the distant crackle of the fire outside.
Then someone whispered what everyone was thinking.
“That thing… said her name.”
Heads turned.
Slowly.
Like a spotlight sweeping.
I felt their attention land on me—heavy, judgmental, hungry. I was used to being overlooked. But this was worse.
My face was being seen.
Rowan stepped in front of me instinctively, like he could shield me from the pack’s thoughts.
“Enough,” he snapped.
The room quieted.
Elder Grant moved closer, his face tense. “Rowan, we need to know what’s happening.”
Rowan’s jaw clenched. “We will.”
Sierra shoved forward again, voice trembling with outrage. “This is her fault.”
I stared at her. My stomach hollowed. “What?”
Sierra’s eyes were bright and furious. “The woods were calm until she—until—” Her gaze cut over me like a blade. “She brings bad luck. She always has.”
A murmur of agreement rippled through the room. Not loud. Not bold. Just enough to remind me that cruelty didn’t always shout.
Lorraine’s hand tightened around my elbow. “Watch your mouth,” she warned Sierra.
Sierra laughed sharply. “Why? We’re all thinking it.”
Rowan’s voice dropped. “Sierra.”
She turned to him, desperate for his support. “Rowan, you know I’m right. We can’t let her—”
Rowan didn’t let her finish.
“Stop,” he said, and the word cracked through the air like a whip. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”
Sierra froze. The room froze with her.
I stared at Rowan.
Because he wasn’t defending me out of kindness.
He was defending something else—something that had shifted inside him.
Something he didn’t want to name.
Elder Grant took a careful breath. “Rowan… the rites were interrupted. The Moon rose, and the bond—”
My chest clenched at the word bond.
I tried to swallow the panic. It didn’t go down.
Elder Grant’s eyes landed on me. He didn’t look disgusted.
He looked worried.
“The Moon does not make mistakes,” he said quietly.
My skin prickled.
Rowan’s gaze snapped back to me, sharp. “Elara—did you feel anything when the Moon rose?”
I opened my mouth.
Pain hit.
Not physical this time—emotional. Like a memory I didn’t have, pressing against my ribs.
“I… I don’t know,” I whispered. “Something’s wrong.”
Rowan stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Tell me what you felt.”
I shook my head. My throat tightened. “I felt like—like something woke up.”
Rowan’s eyes darkened.
Lorraine sucked in a breath. “Oh no.”
Rowan turned to her. “What?”
Lorraine’s face went pale. “If she felt it waking—”
A loud thud hit the lodge wall.
Everyone screamed.
The entire room jolted. Dust shook from the rafters.
Another thud came—harder.
The windows rattled.
Someone yelled, “It’s trying to get in!”
Rowan moved instantly—Alpha mode snapping into place like armor. “Everyone upstairs. Now. Elder Grant—get the kids. Lorraine, stay with Elara.”
My heart slammed.
Rowan grabbed a weapon from the wall—an old blade with silver markings—and strode toward the door.
I didn’t know why, but my feet moved after him.
Lorraine hissed, “Elara!”
I ignored her.
Rowan spun, eyes blazing. “I said upstairs.”
“I’m not a child,” I snapped, surprised by my voice.
Rowan’s gaze locked onto mine. “You’re the reason it’s here.”
The words hit like a slap.
My mouth opened, then closed.
Rowan’s expression shifted—regret flashing too late.
Before either of us could speak again, the door shook violently.
Wood creaked.
The bar groaned.
And through the thick oak, a voice slid into the lodge like smoke under a door.
“Elara…”
Every hair on my body rose.
Because the voice wasn’t outside anymore.
It was inside the house.
- Writer
