Novel & Cerita Twisting Her Fate

Her form flickered in and out of existence as she glided like a wraith, sliding through the mist. She lifted me off my feet with unnatural strength as her fingers closed around my throat. I struggled against her hold and kicked frantically as I choked. She muttered, "Weak," her face inches from mine. An ice heat surged through my veins as her hand burned where it touched my skin. *"You keep denying your identity. You reject your fate. You hesitate. You will die for that, just like your failed past generation that this was bestowed to.”* I cringed. “And what If I stand by my words of not being part of this fate of yours.”

I crossed one leg over the other with deliberate ease, resting my ankle on my knee. “Tsk.” Her tongue clicked against her teeth. Her fingers curled slightly at her side. “What a convenience. Just after this damn illness took over, I had to return. As if fate itself is playing with me.” Her voice was smooth, but the bitterness underneath it was sharp, acidic. I chuckled softly and folded my arms. “Well, didn’t you try to play with fate? Who does witchcraft to swap their own soul?” She scoffed, her nose wrinkling as her gaze hardened. “You are enjoying this, aren’t you?”

she added quickly, turning to walk away. But I couldn’t let her go. Not yet. “I’ll help you get your revenge,” I said, and her steps slowed. “I’ll find him. I can find him, if I wanted to…right now. But I need you to touch the chains. They’re killing me. Slowly. Only someone destined can remove them. And that's you.” She turned halfway. Her expression unreadable. “No need to explain,” she muttered. “I understand. It’s my fate. I’ll do as I’m told.”

“I—I can’t just summon it. It doesn’t work like that. It comes when it wants. Usually when something… big is close. Or when someone’s fate is tangled tight.” “Tangled tight.” I repeated the words mockingly, tasting them like bad wine. “How poetic. And convenient. So you’re telling me you’re useless until fate decides to throw you a bone? That I bought a lottery ticket with legs?” She shook her head frantically. “Not useless. I’ve seen things before. Real things. A fire that swallowed a pack house three nights before it happened. A blade in the dark that found a lord’s throat two days later. I told my overseer. He beat me for lying. Then the fire came. Then the blade. He stopped beating me af

The Spiral shimmered faintly in response, like a question half-formed. The cloaked girl stepped forward, one hand outstretched as if offering something unseen. “Because fate failed,” she whispered. “Because the world wrote one name in the Spiral’s heart, and someone else answered.” Her eyes were ancient now, not angry but aching. “You are not the villain. But you are the accident.” And her gaze shifted—not with hatred, but with longing. “And accidents must be corrected.”

“Why leave then? I mean, they aren’t married off? Are they?” A dark look crossed her face. “I…it was a routine job. A nameless face. Just another request. It wasn’t even to extract information. It was simple and clean.” Her eyes filled with tears but they didn’t fall. “Until it wasn’t. Until the nameless was named. Until I found out the identity of the woman.” Looking up at me, my heart broke. She carried this with her. This was one that haunted her. One that loomed over her shoulder. I had a few of those as well. I wanted to reach out to her and pull her to me but she seemed lost in her own grief.

“I swear half of what she said was just to make herself sound mystical. Who even talks like that?” “She’s not human,” I muttered, leading them back toward the cabin. “She’s something older. Like the Moon Goddess. Maybe older than that.” “She said she was a fate,” Grimm added quietly. “You know what that means, right?” “Thread-pullers,” Wallace said. “Ones who can alter the path of a life with a whisper.” Brad groaned. “So that little cryptic rant she went on could’ve just rewritten our entire future?” “Feels like it,” Crawl muttered.

Beautiful. "You can't undo what was done," she said. "No one can rewrite fate." "I'm not trying to rewrite it," I murmured. "I'm trying to choose it—with you." Her lip twitched, bitter at the edges. "You always say the right things at the worst times." I reached for her hand. She flinched, but didn’t pull away. Her fingers were ice. "This isn’t about saying the right thing. It's about finally doing it."

"Maria, I will avenge you. What he did to you, his wife will face the same. And then I'll ask him to replace her, just like he asked me to and then he'll know that fame means nothing but destruction." Fate sat on the top of a tower and wrote something in her Grecabulum, the book of fate and destiny. Her pen shone light blue as she wrote down the Fate of people. Then, she flew up and reached a balcony. She passed through the closed doors and looked at a new born baby sleeping in a cradle. She touched his hands and the fate lines appeared on his palm. "May you get what you deserve" She smiled and walked out. She flew up and climbed at the terrace of a building. "Let's see, what's next," She lo

Steeling myself with resolve, I knew I had to follow her, to face whatever she faced, no matter the cost. The witch watched me with a terse expression as if understanding my desperate refusal to abandon Winter. “Fated ties are frail and so easily destroyed,” she intoned, her own wisdom mingling with a warning. “Enter that place and know that fate may twist its tendrils into something entirely different on your mortal hands.” With no time to dwell on her cryptic words, I rose to my full height, the weight of my choice already made. “Then let fate do as it will,” I declared, trusting that my heart knew the path better than any map or prophecy.