Shifting fates

Chapter Eleven: The Decision

I kept my head down as I left the Pack House, willing my legs to carry me faster than my thoughts. The air felt too heavy. My skin itched from the heat of Ryker’s words, from the memory of Ellie’s smug little smirk. I needed space. Air. Silence. Anything that didn’t reek of power or perfume.

But, of course, the universe had other ideas.

“Raine!”

Lucian’s voice cracked through the courtyard like a whip.

I froze. My body didn’t want to, but it was him. The one person I wasn’t ready to face. Not after yesterday. Not with my thoughts still a tangled mess of heat and confusion and guilt.

I turned, slowly. “Hey.”

He jogged to catch up, brow creased in that way it always did when he was trying to read me.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said.

“No, I haven’t,” I lied, too quickly.

Lucian raised an eyebrow. “You disappeared after breakfast, skipped patrol, and I’m pretty sure you took the long way around the kitchen just to avoid brushing past me.”

“I was just… busy,” I mumbled, eyes fixed on a patch of gravel by his boot. “You know how it is. Things to do. People to avoid.”

“Raine.” His voice softened, and he took a step closer. His hand brushed my arm, just enough to make me flinch. “Hey, talk to me. Did I do something? Is this about—?”

“No,” I cut him off, voice sharp, panicked. “It’s not… You didn’t do anything.”

I stepped back, and the distance felt like a rope being pulled tight between us. His hand dropped to his side, but his gaze stayed locked on mine.

“You ran yesterday,” he said quietly. “I didn’t get a chance to explain.”

“I know,” I breathed. “And I’m sorry. I just… I can’t—” My throat closed. “I can’t talk about it.”

I turned before he could stop me again. Before he could say something that might make me stay.

I didn’t stop walking until I hit the tree line. And even then, my legs kept moving. Branches scratched my arms. Leaves tangled in my hair. The pack noise faded behind me, swallowed by the forest’s quiet, steady breath.

And still I ran.

I didn’t know where I was going, not at first. But the further I went, the clearer my mind became.

I couldn’t stay here.

Not with Ryker watching me like a mistake he wished he could erase. Not with Ellie twisting every moment into a power play. And not with Lucian—not when every nerve in my body lit up around him, confused and aching, and desperate to feel something that wasn’t allowed.

Because no matter how wrong it felt in my head, my body didn’t care. It only cared that he was Alpha. That I was Omega. That I responded to him in a way I never had before—and never could again.

He was my brother. Wasn’t he?

I crashed to my knees in the clearing, chest heaving, fingers digging into the dirt. The ground was cool beneath my palms. Steady. Real. Unlike everything else.

“I can’t do this,” I whispered. “I can’t stay here and watch them live the life that was meant for me.”

The wind stirred the leaves in answer.

There was only one person who might understand. Who might help.

The witch.

The same one who had taken everything from me.

I stood slowly, brushing the dirt from my knees. My path was clear now. I wouldn’t wait for permission. I wouldn’t tell anyone.

Tonight, I would leave the pack.

The forest stretched out before me like an old friend, its winding paths half-remembered from childhood hunts and reckless late-night runs. But now, every step felt heavier—like the earth knew what I was walking toward.

Mireya.

Just thinking her name made my pulse pick up. The witch who had ripped my bond from me. The one my mother trusted. The one who’d looked me in the eye while stealing everything I was meant to have.

But she was also the only person who might be able to fix it.

The moon rose high above the treetops, bathing the woods in silver as I pushed further into the unclaimed territory beyond the borders. Twigs snapped underfoot. Something howled in the distance. I didn’t stop. Not even when the trees grew gnarled and thick, roots twisting like claws across the earth.

At last, her cottage came into view.

Half-buried in ivy, it slouched beneath the boughs of an ancient ash tree, crooked as a forgotten memory. The windows were aglow with flickering candlelight, casting long, swaying shadows across the mossy stones. Smoke curled from the chimney, thick and sweet, carrying the scent of herbs and something more—something bitter and old.

I hesitated at the edge of the clearing, heart hammering.

This was it.

My hand curled into a fist, nails digging into my palm. I stepped forward.

She was waiting for me.

The door creaked open before I even reached it, and there she stood—Mireya—tall and wiry, her silver hair falling in long braids over her shoulders, her dark eyes impossibly deep.

“You’ve come,” she said, voice like velvet and smoke.

I swallowed hard. “I need your help.”

A slow smile curved her lips. “Of course you do, little wolf.”

She stepped aside, letting the door swing wider.

“Come in, Raine. We have much to discuss.”