Chapter 17 - Sera #2
The desert landscape opens up around us. Flat scrubland dotted with hardy vegetation that somehow survives despite the harsh conditions. It’s beautiful in its own way—stark and unforgiving, but alive. Thriving despite everything working against it.
Maybe that’s what I need to be. Hardy vegetation in hostile terrain. Thriving despite the curse trying to strangle me.
“You’re quiet again,” Reeyan comments. “Different kind of quiet this time, though.”
“Just thinking.” I watch the landscape pass. “About survival. About what it takes to keep going when everything is working against you.”
“That’s something I understand.” His voice goes softer.
“You know, my parents died in a territorial dispute when I was twelve. Rogue wolves from outside the valley trying to claim Grayhide land. My father was part of the patrol that intercepted them, and my mother went as backup when things escalated. They were both killed defending territory that the rogues abandoned two days later anyway.”
I adjust myself in my seat to give him my full attention. He’s never mentioned his parents before.
“I’m sorry. That must have been awful.”
“It was.” He keeps his eyes on the road.
“I spent months afterward trying to understand why it happened. Why anyone would kill for a strip of borderland they didn’t even want to keep.
Oren’s father—the alpha at the time—couldn’t give me answers that made sense.
Just said sometimes violence happens for no good reason. ”
“But you didn’t accept that.”
“No. I buried myself in historical records instead. Started studying patterns in pack conflicts, looking for the logic behind territorial disputes and why some escalate while others don’t.
Turned out those rogues weren’t random at all.
They were scouts for a larger group testing our defenses.
My parents’ deaths gave them intel about our response times and patrol patterns before they decided the valley wasn’t worth the effort to conquer. ”
“They were gathering intelligence,” I surmise. “Looking for weaknesses.”
“Exactly. Which means violence that looks random often isn’t.
There’s usually a pattern if you know where to look.
I’ve spent years studying those patterns, trying to predict conflicts before they happen.
Trying to make sure no one else loses their parents because we failed to see the warning signs. ”
The weight of that drives home just how long he’s been preparing for threats like Thornridge. How much of his life has been shaped by trying to prevent what happened to his family from happening to others.
“Is that why you became a historian? To understand the patterns?”
“Partly. Also, because I was terrible at the things most wolves excel at—combat, leadership, social dynamics. I learned all of that later, out of necessity, but it never came naturally. But pattern recognition? Historical analysis? That I could do. Oren’s father recognized it.
Gave me access to the pack archives and let me study instead of forcing me into roles I was never suited for.
By the time Oren took over as alpha, I’d become useful enough that he kept me on as strategic advisor. ”
I scoff and reply, “You’re more than useful. Your research is the only reason we know about the curse. The only reason we have any hope of breaking it.”
“Maybe. Or maybe the universe just needed someone obsessive enough to connect three-hundred-year-old dots. Either way, I’m glad I was in the right place at the right time to save you on that road.”
The sincerity in his voice makes my throat tighten. This man, who lost his parents and spent his life studying violence to prevent more loss. Who sees patterns no one else notices. Who recognized me as his mate and has been fighting to keep me safe ever since.
“I need to talk to Caelan.” The realization hits suddenly. “My sister deserves to know what’s happening before I attempt breaking this curse. She deserves the truth about the curse and why I’ve been lying to her.”
“That’s your choice to make,” Reeyan concedes. “But remember what the vision warned. Someone in Llewelyn might try to stop you if they learn what you’re doing.”
“Caelan wouldn’t,” I say it with complete confidence. “Whatever else the curse has done to us, it hasn’t destroyed the bond between sisters. She’ll understand once I explain everything.”
“We’ll figure something out after the council meeting tomorrow.” He pulls onto the road leading to his house. “But Sera? If you’re going to tell her, you need to tell her everything. The curse, the mate bond, what you’re planning to do. Half-truths will only make things worse.”
Everything. Including that I’ve bonded with a Grayhide wolf. That I’ve violated every principle of Llewelyn independence. That I’m planning to break the magic our ancestor commissioned, thinking it would protect us.
My sister is either going to understand, or she’s going to think I’ve lost my mind.
“I’ll tell her everything.” I lean back against the seat and close my eyes. “After the council meeting. Once we have a concrete plan for breaking the curse. She deserves to hear it all at once instead of in pieces.”
The truck slows as we approach his house. Home, my brain supplies unhelpfully. Not his house anymore. Home.
I open my eyes and look at the familiar structure. The cluttered interior full of books and research materials. The guest room I’ve been retreating to when things get too real. The bedroom where he showed me what pleasure feels like without curse suppression.
The weight of it settles on my shoulders like a physical thing. Heavy and inescapable and terrifying.
But I’m not carrying everything alone anymore. Reeyan will be there. Raegan and the other psychics who understand what I’m seeing. The Hysopp Coven with their magical expertise. Maybe even Caelan, once I tell her the truth.
For the first time since that initial vision, I feel something besides fear when I think about breaking the curse.
Hope. Small and fragile, but there.
Maybe hardy vegetation in hostile terrain doesn’t just survive.
Maybe it actually thrives.