Lahat ng Kabanata ng Tethered To Fate : Kabanata 81 - Kabanata 90

Chapter 80: What He Left Buried (Dominic’s POV) The road narrowed the farther east we drove—pines pressing closer, the sky shrinking with each mile. I hadn’t been back here in over twelve years, and yet the land still remembered me. I could feel it in the crunch of gravel beneath the tires, the way the trees leaned like they knew my name but refused to speak it. I gripped the wheel tighter. I didn’t have memories here. Not real ones. Just fragments. A voice that rarely raised but never soothed. A figure who appeared at formal events but never bedtime. My father was never truly present. Not even when he was in the room. The real architect of my childhood had been my mother. She pushed me into Alpha training the moment I was strong enough to shift. She didn’t raise me—she honed me. Shaped me into something sharp enough to lead, controlled enough not to question. I learned how to fight before I learned how to grieve. How to command before I knew how to trust. By the time I reali

Capter 82: The Night She Was Left (Kaidon’s POV – Flashback) It was raining the night she came to me. Not a soft rain. The kind that split the sky and clawed through the trees like they were trying to drag the truth down into the dirt. The wind snapped hard enough to shake the old shutters, and thunder rolled low and constant, as if the sky itself was holding its breath. I stood at the edge of the orphanage’s east wing, where the forest pressed close and shadows ran deeper than any patrol could track. The staff were asleep. The wards were intact. No one knew I was waiting. The message had come with no seal—just a folded parchment marked with the faintest sigil of Ashera. Inked in haste, but written with purpose: We’re bringing her. Do not ask questions. You owe us that much. And I did owe them. So I didn’t ask. The car appeared just after midnight. Black. No lights. Its arrival was soundless, like it had slipped through dimensions rather than roads. A figure stepped

Chapter 84: What Remains in Silence (Nayla’s POV) The wind outside the orphanage sliced through the air, sharp and unforgiving, like it resented the silence I carried. Snow threatened to fall, thick in the clouds above. Beside me, Dominic walked without a word. The iron gate groaned shut behind us, its clang echoing like a period at the end of a sentence I never got to finish. I should’ve felt lighter. I had answers, didn’t I? But I didn’t feel anything close to peace. Just… hollow. Dominic didn’t ask if I was okay. He didn’t try to touch me, didn’t try to fix what couldn’t be put back. He just stayed there—solid, quiet, his presence the only steady thing in a world that kept rewriting itself beneath my feet. “My whole life,” I said finally, the words rasping out against the wind, “I’ve been searching for truth like it would anchor me. Like it would make all the loss make sense.” He didn’t interrupt. “I thought maybe if I stood in the place where it all started, where I was ab

Chapter 102: The Last Lie (Jaime’s POV) The trees pressed in like a secret, thick with frost and silence. Jaime stood in the clearing just beyond the boundary of Nikolai’s pack lands, pulse steady, breathing controlled. Her cloak clung to her shoulders, wind-whipped and heavy, but she didn’t shiver. Not tonight. Tonight, she was done being the weak one. Branches cracked under boots. She didn’t look—she didn’t need to. She felt Nikolai before she saw him. He emerged from the trees like shadow in motion, all calm calculation. Jacob followed, as silent and watchful as ever. Nikolai didn’t speak at first. He just studied her. “You wanted this meeting,” he said finally. “I assume you have something worth saying.” “I do.” Her voice didn’t shake. “It’s about Nayla.” “Of course it is.” His lips curled slightly, but there was no humor in it. “You’ve been obsessing over her since the day she slipped out of your grasp.” Jaime ignored the bait. “You want her back. I want her gone. It d

Chapter 88: Between Shadows (Dominic’s POV) The subway tunnels beneath the city were too quiet. The hum of the rails, the low groan of metal overhead—it all faded into the background as I followed the faint thread of her scent. Floral. Bitter. Familiar. Jaime. I moved fast, boots silent, pulse steady. Whatever this was, it wasn’t random. She didn’t get this close to my territory without purpose. She wanted to be seen. Or she wanted to speak. I found her near the abandoned C-line platform, half-hidden beneath a broken floodlight. Her hood was up, back straight against a concrete column. Waiting. She didn’t flinch when I stepped into view. “Trespassing’s a bold move,” I said. She tilted her head slightly, eyes shadowed. “Figured you’d be the one to come.” “You left a trail. You don’t usually make mistakes like that.” “I didn’t,” she said quietly. “I needed you to find me.” I didn’t respond. Just studied her. There was something different this time. No bravado. No smugness. S