Chapter 68 When things broke

I didn’t stop running until my legs gave out. Not because I was brave, not because I had a plan, but because turning back felt worse than whatever waited ahead. The forest thinned into rough land, stones cutting through the soil like they had pushed their way up in anger. I dropped onto a fallen log and dragged in air, my hands shaking as I pressed them against my face.

Alexander’s voice wouldn’t leave me alone. Calm, certain and final. She belongs to the pack. He hadn’t raised his voice. He hadn’t argued. He’d said it like the ending had already been written and he was only reading it out loud. I let out a quiet laugh that didn’t sound like mine. Every pause I thought mattered. Every look I overread. All of it had led here.

I pulled the pendant free and held it in my palm. In daylight, it looked ordinary. Cold metal. No glow. No pull. Just weight. “Was this your idea too?” I muttered. “Or did you get bored watching me make excuses for everyone?”

The memory slipped in without warning. My father sat at a rough table, hands stained dark with something I couldn’t name. He looked younger than I remembered, tired but steady. Someone stood across from him, face blurred, voice low. She won’t forgive you. My father didn’t look up. I’m not asking her to. I’m asking her to live. Then it was gone.

I closed my fingers around the pendant. So it wasn’t fate. Not prophecy. Choice. I stood and walked again.

By midmorning, I reached a narrow road barely used anymore. A trader’s cart creaked past. The driver glanced at me once and looked away. To him, I was nothing special. Just another girl moving through the world. The normalcy felt dangerous. I followed the road until it curved toward abandoned houses with broken roofs and leaning walls. No one lived here anymore. That was the point.

I found a place with three standing walls and a door that still closed. I sat on the floor and let the quiet settle. That was when the anger came. Not loud. Not wild. Cold. I thought of my mother’s careful silence. Of the council speaking about me like I was a problem to manage. Of Alexander standing there like he hadn’t already chosen his side.

“You could have told me,” I said to no one. “Once would’ve been enough.”

Another memory came. My father stood alone, drawing symbols into dirt with a stick, wiping them away with his boot. Over and over. Practice. Control. Someone behind him said, They’ll come for her. My father answered without turning. That’s why she can’t belong to anyone.

The word stayed with me. Belong.

By evening, hunger forced me outside. I caught a small fish in the stream behind the houses and cooked it over a weak fire. I ate slowly, focusing on staying present. Footsteps crunched behind me. I turned calmly.

Mia stood there, cloak damp, eyes sharp. “You’re hard to track,” she said.

“I wasn’t hiding.”

“Good,” she replied. “Neither was he.”

I didn’t ask how she found me. She sat across from me, watching the fire. “They think you’ll come back.”

I shook my head. “They always do.”

Mia studied me for a long moment. “You won’t.”

“No,” I said. “I’m done walking into places where I already know how it ends.”

She nodded once. “Then you need to know something.”

I looked at her. “If this is about destiny, don’t bother.”

“It’s not,” she said. “It’s about who lied first.”

That got my attention.

Mia leaned closer. “Your father didn’t disappear. He was pushed out. And Alexander knows more about that than he’s admitting.”