The Price Of Fate Chapter 17
Chapter 17 The Secret Under Our Skin
Nyra’s POV
For a long moment, I just stared at my side.
At the place where my blood had been.
At the place that should still have stitches and swollen skin and pain.
But there was nothing.
No wound.
No tear.
No proof that I had been ripped open and forced to crawl my way home like an animal trying not to die.
Only smooth skin… as if the night had never happened.
As if I had never happened.
My breath came out in a thin, shaking sound.
Then my eyes lifted to my mother’s hands.
Her fingers were trembling like she was holding back an earthquake.
The last trace of that pale glow had faded, but I could still see it in my mind, light spilling through her skin like it belonged there. Like it had always belonged there.
My body reacted before my mind did.
I backed away.
One step.
Then another.
Pure instinct.
The kind of instinct you have when something familiar suddenly becomes dangerous.
“Nyra…” my mother whispered, her voice tight.
I shook my head hard, my throat closing.
“What, what was that?” I demanded, the words coming out too fast, too sharp. “What did you just do to me?”
My mother’s gaze flicked to the door like she expected someone to burst in at any moment. Like even the walls
could hear us.
She swallowed. “You were bleeding.”
“That isn’t an answer,” I snapped, then immediately hated myself for the way my voice shook. “That isn’t
normal. That wasn’t… herbs. That wasn’t bandages.” I held my palm up, showing her the place where blood had soaked my fingers minutes ago. “You healed me. With light.”
Her mouth tightened.
They were the reason we weren’t devoured.
They were rare.
Hidden.
And when a pack had one… that pack became untouchable.
My mouth opened, but no sound came out.
My mother’s voice was quiet, careful. “So was my mother before me.”
I stumbled backward until the back of my legs hit the bed.
“How…?” I managed, my voice barely there. “That, that doesn’t make sense.”
My mother’s gaze dropped. “Most things don’t, in this world.”
“But, “My mind spun, desperate. “If you’re a Prima Wolf… then why, why do they treat you like this?” I gestured wildly around the cabin. The small room. The worn wood. The outskirts. “They should respect you more than they respect the Alpha.”
Something was wrong.
Deeply wrong.
My mother didn’t answer immediately.
Her silence felt like a stone in my chest.
I swallowed hard. “Is this why you live like a recluse?” I whispered. “Because you’re hiding?”
My mother’s jaw tightened. “Yes.”
The honesty hit me like a slap.
My head shook slowly, disbelief slipping into fear.
Then another thought struck, bright and desperate.
“Am I… am I one too?” I asked, and the question came out raw. “Is that why I haven’t seen my wolf yet? Is that why I’m wolfless?”
Hope rose in me so fast it almost made me dizzy.
Because if this was the reason,
If my life had an explanation,
If I wasn’t just… defective,
My mother’s expression crumpled.
And the hope died before she even spoke.
She shook her head.
Once.
Small.
Final.
“No,” she whispered.
The word hit me right under the ribs.
I blinked rapidly, refusing to let my tears fall.
“But, “My voice broke. “You said… you said Prima Wolves have gifts. If you’re one,
”
“Prima Wolves get their wolf early,” my mother said, quieter now. “Sixteen. Sometimes younger.”
Sixteen.
My stomach hollowed.
I had found my mate at sixteen.
I had found love in the dark at sixteen.
And I had waited.
And waited.
And waited.
But no wolf had ever come.
No shift.
No power.
Nothing.
Just me.
Twenty years old and still unfinished.
Something sharp pressed behind my eyes.
I swallowed hard and forced my voice steady. “So… I didn’t make the cut.”
My mother’s eyes flashed with pain. “Nyra, ”
“It’s fine,” I said too quickly, because that’s what I always said when something shattered in me and I didn’t want anyone to see the pieces. “It’s fine.”
She stepped closer. “It shouldn’t bother you.”
How couldn’t it?
At least she had her wolf.
At least she had something in her blood that made the world bow, even if Vandwood had chosen to spit on it.
Me?
I had nothing.
No wolf.
No standing.
No protection.
No gift.
Just a heart that had loved in secret until it bled out.
I nodded slowly, pretending I agreed, pretending the ache wasn’t spreading through my chest like rot.
In that moment, I knew I had made the right choice ending things with Kieran.
Waiting for him had been a slow death.
And if he couldn’t claim me when I was all he had, he would never protect me when the pack demanded blood.
As for the stranger in the woods,
I hoped he moved on.
I hoped he never found me.
Because my life had enough chaos. Enough men who claimed things they couldn’t keep.
My mother’s hands trembled as she reached for mine. “Please,” she said softly. “Don’t ask me more questions right now.”
I looked at her, my throat tight.
“Why?” I whispered.
Her voice broke. “Because I don’t want to lie to you.
It was a line I’d heard before.
Not always spoken.
But always there.
A wall.
A boundary.
A warning.
So I nodded.
“Okay,” I said, even though it wasn’t.
My mother exhaled like she’d been holding her breath for years. Then she turned away, moving into the tiny kitchen corner as if cooking could stitch the world back into place.
I sat on the bed, staring at my healed skin, feeling unreal.
Feeling like my life was made of secrets stacked on secrets.
An hour passed.
Maybe more.
The cabin was quiet except for the soft clink of dishes and the faint simmer of a pot.
Then there was a knock at the door.
Not the familiar, hesitant knock of neighbours.
Not the careful tap of someone who knew they were entering outcast territory.
This knock was sharp.
Official.
My mother froze.
So did I.
Another knock followed, harder.
My heart began to pound again.
My mother wiped her hands on her apron and walked to the door. She opened it just enough to see outside.
A messenger stood there in pack uniform, face tight with duty and discomfort. He didn’t step onto our porch fully, like even the wood might contaminate his boots.
He held out a sealed letter.
My mother’s eyes narrowed. “What is that?”
The messenger cleared his throat. “Drafting assembly summons,” he said quickly, like he wanted to finish and leave. “From Alpha Ethan.”
My stomach dropped.
Drafting assembly?
That was for wolves.
For warriors.
For those with gifts to offer the pack.
Not for wolfless outcasts who were meant to disappear after academy.
The messenger’s eyes flicked to me once, fast, and then away.
My mother took the letter slowly.
The seal was unmistakable.
The Alpha’s crest pressed into wax.
My hands went cold.
“Why would he…” I whispered.
Because the agreement had been clear.
Once my studies ended, I wasn’t supposed to step into the pack’s common life again.
retodo our key
I wasn’t supposed to matter.
And yet…
Alpha Ethan was summoning me.
My mother closed the door, the letter trembling slightly in her hand.
She turned to me, face pale.
And for the first time in a long time, I saw something in her eyes that looked like fear.
Not fear for herself.
Fear for me.
Because whatever this was…
It wasn’t charity.
It wasn’t kindness.
And it certainly wasn’t normal.
