Chapter 19 CHAPTER 19

Chapter 19 CHAPTER 19
Ophelia’s POV
"Because everyone who wants to learn has the wrong motivations. They want glory. Fame. To be the strongest warrior in the pack." He took a drink. "Nobody wants to actually put in the work. Nobody has real discipline."
"What if I told you I know someone who does?"
Tristan studied me over his cup. "Someone."
"Yes."
"A friend of yours?"
"Yes."
He set down his cup and looked me up and down again. Slowly. Carefully.
Then he shook his head. "You? No offense, kid, but..."
He paused like he was choosing his words carefully.
"Your build, your stance, the way you carry yourself..." He gestured at me. "You're what we call a once-in-a-century training disaster."
I heard Hex absolutely lose it in my head. "AHAHAHAHA! HE CALLED YOU A DISASTER!"
My face went nuclear. "I—I wasn't talking about ME!"
Tristan blinked. "No?"
"NO! I meant a friend! A friend of mine!" My voice came out way too high-pitched.
"Ah." He actually looked amused now. "A friend."
"Yes! He's young, naturally talented, really strong—"
"He?"
"Yes, he! A boy! Who needs training!" I was rambling now. "He's been through a lot, he's not some spoiled pack heir, he's got raw power but he needs proper training and discipline and—"
"Why do you care so much about this boy?" Tristan interrupted.
My face somehow got even hotter. "He's—he's just a friend. And I think he has real potential."
"Sure, 'just a friend,'" Hex said.
"SHUT UP, HEX!" I thought furiously.
Tristan was still watching me with that knowing look.
"Look," I said, trying to sound more calm. "He's someone worth teaching. I promise. He's not like other pack warriors. He's been through real hardship. He knows what it's like to have nothing and fight for everything."
Something shifted in Tristan's expression. "Hardship builds character. Or breaks it completely."
"He's not broken. He's just... rough around the edges."
"And you think I can smooth those edges?"
"I think you can teach him how to channel his strength properly. Before someone gets hurt."
Tristan leaned back in his chair. "Alright. Bring him here tomorrow at dusk."
My heart jumped. "Really?"
"But if he's just another spoiled pack brat wasting my time—"
"He's not! I promise!"
"And one more thing." Tristan's voice got serious. "I don't do pack politics. If I take him on, he trains my way. No shortcuts, no privileges because he knows the Alpha's daughter. Understood?"
"Absolutely! Yes! Deal!"
"Tomorrow. Dusk." He stood up. "Don't be late."
I practically ran out of that cabin.
The sun was starting to set as I rode back to the castle, and I was feeling pretty good about myself.
Mission accomplished. Tristan agreed to train Ryan. Tomorrow night, festival with Ryan. Everything was going according to plan.
"You're humming," Hex said in my head.
"I'm happy! Sue me!"
"You realize you still have to tell Ryan about the Tristan thing, right?"
My humming stopped. "Yeah. I'll do that. Eventually."
"Ophelia—"
"I said eventually!"
I handed my horse off to the stable hand and tried to sneak back into the castle through the side entrance. The courtyard was pretty empty—most people were at dinner.
Perfect. No one would see me.
I was almost at the door when I heard footsteps behind me.
I froze.
Slowly, I turned around.
Ryan stood there in the shadows near the garden wall, arms crossed. His green eyes were glowing slightly in the dim light.
Oh crap.
"Oh," I said, trying to sound casual. "Hi. You're back early."
He didn't answer. Just stared at me with that intense look that made me want to either run away or spontaneously combust.
"Where were you?" His voice was calm. Too calm.
"I just went for a ride," I said quickly. "You know, fresh air and all that."
Ryan's nose twitched slightly. He was sniffing the air.
Oh no.
"You smell like the forest," he said. "Deep forest."
"Well, yeah. I rode through the forest. That's kind of how forests work."
He took a step closer. "The eastern forest. Near the old hunting grounds."
My heart started pounding. His sense of smell was way too good.
"Maybe? I wasn't really paying attention to direction—"
"You also smell like someone else." His eyes narrowed. "A male."
My face went nuclear. "That's—that's not—I wasn't doing anything weird!"
"This is hilarious," Hex said.
"NOT HELPING!" I thought back furiously.
Ryan's expression got even colder. "Who were you with?"
There was something in his tone. Something that sounded almost like... jealousy?
Wait. Was Ryan jealous?
"It's not what you think!" I said quickly. "I was just—"
"You snuck out," he interrupted. "Alone. Without telling anyone. Without guards." His voice got more serious. "Do you know how dangerous that is?"
Oh. He wasn't jealous. He was worried.
That was... actually kind of sweet?
But also annoying because I didn't need a babysitter.
"I can take care of myself!" I said, getting defensive.
"You can't even shift yet."
"So what? I don't need to shift to—"
"There are rogues in those woods," Ryan cut me off. "Dangerous ones."
The memory of him almost getting killed flashed through my mind. The blood. The alley.
My anger deflated. "I was careful. I promise."
We stared at each other. The tension was so thick I could've cut it with a knife.
Ryan finally sighed. "If you wanted to go riding, you should have asked me to go with you."
"You were on patrol."
"I would have made time."
His ears turned red as soon as he said it.
Something in my chest went all warm and fuzzy.
"Look," I said, walking closer and grabbing his sleeve. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to worry you."
I looked up at him with my best puppy dog eyes. "Please don't tell my dad?"
Ryan looked away. "He should know—"
"Ryan, please?" I tugged on his sleeve gently. "He'll ground me for like a month!"
I kept tugging. "I promise I won't do it again. Well, not without telling you first."
Ryan looked at me, and I could see him struggling. That cold look in his eyes was melting.
"Fine," he said finally. "But next time—"
"Next time I'll tell you! Promise!" I let go of his sleeve, but I didn't step back. We were still standing pretty close.
Actually, I just remembered something.
"Speaking of next time," I said. "My mom invited me to the harvest festival tomorrow night. In the village."
I paused, looking up at him. "Want to come with me?"
Ryan blinked. "The festival?"
"Yeah. There'll be food, games, music..." I smiled. "It'll be fun."
He just stared at me.
"Come on," I said. "When's the last time you did something just for fun?"
Ryan kept looking at me, and I realized his eyes were completely focused on my face.
My heart started doing that stupid fluttery thing again.
"I have patrol—" he started.
"I already checked the schedule. You're off tomorrow night."
His mouth opened. Closed. "..."
"So?" I prompted. "Yes or no?"
His ears got redder. "Fine. I'll go."
"Great!" I said, way too enthusiastically. "It's a date—I mean, not a date-date! Just like, you know, hanging out. As friends. Pack members. Whatever."
Oh my god. Did I just say "date"?
"Okay I should go!" I practically shouted. "See you tomorrow!"
I turned and ran into the castle before I could embarrass myself further.
Later that night, my room.
"So," Hex said. "We should probably talk about your actual plan here."
I was quiet for a moment, thinking. Then I said it.
"I'm going to be his first love."
Silence.
"What?" Hex said.
"You heard me." I stood up and started pacing. "Think about it. Ryan's been hurt by everyone who was supposed to care about him. His dad, his pack, everyone. He doesn't trust anyone. He doesn't believe in kindness or goodness or love."
"Okay..."
"So I become the exception." I stopped pacing and looked out the window at the moon. "I become the one person he can't help but care about. His first love. The girl he never forgets."
"That's... actually kind of smart," Hex said slowly. "But how does that stop him from becoming a tyrant?"
"Because when I die—when Ophelia's predetermined death happens in four years—I'm going to make sure it's because of him."
"What?"
"Not literally his fault," I clarified. "But I'll die saving him. Protecting him. Sacrificing myself for him. Something so dramatic and tragic that it'll haunt him forever."
I turned away from the window. "He'll carry the guilt and the love for the rest of his life. Every time he thinks about going dark, about choosing revenge, he'll remember me. He'll remember what I wanted for him. And he won't be able to do it."
"That's..." Hex was quiet for a long moment. "That's actually brilliant. In a really manipulative, emotionally devastating kind of way."
"It's not manipulation," I protested. "It's strategic emotional influence."
"That's literally the definition of manipulation."
"Shut up. It's for a good cause."
"I mean, you're not wrong. Using love to cage his darkness... making yourself his reason to stay in the light..." Hex sounded almost impressed. "You've really thought this through."
"I have to." I sat back down on my bed. "Four years isn't enough time to completely reform someone. But it's enough time to become unforgettable. To plant myself so deep in his heart that even after I'm gone, I'm still there. Influencing his choices. Keeping him on the right path."
"The girl who loved him and died for him. The one he can never have again. The memory that keeps him human." Hex said.
"Exactly."
"You know what? I'm actually going to help you with this," Hex said. "This is the kind of dramatic, emotionally complex plan that might actually work. Plus, I appreciate the theatricality of it."
"Thanks. I think."
"Just one question."
"What?"
"Are you sure you can pull this off without actually falling for him?"
I laughed. "Please. I'm dead inside. Emotionally unavailable. My heart is a frozen wasteland, remember?"
"Uh-huh. Sure."
"I'm serious! This is just a mission. Strategic emotional manipulation to save the timeline. That's it."
"If you say so."
"I do say so!" I flopped back on my bed. "Besides, even if I wanted to fall for him—which I don't—I literally can't. I'm leaving in four years. This body dies. I go back to my real life. Everything here gets erased."
"That's true."
"So there's no point in catching feelings. This is purely professional."
"Very professional. That's why you invited him to the festival tomorrow."
"That's part of the plan! I need to create memorable moments! Build emotional connection!"
"Sure, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night."
I grabbed my pillow and threw it across the room. "You're the worst!"
"I'm realistic."
"I could totally do this without catching feelings!"
"We'll see."
I wanted to argue more, but honestly, I was exhausted. Today had been long.