Crowned by Fate Chapter 122

Skye’s POV

I woke to the gentle sound of a tray being set down beside my bed. Blinking away sleep, I found Adrian arranging breakfast—fresh fruit, pastries, and steaming coffee—on the nightstand.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the room, enticing me to sit up.

"Good morning," he said, his voice warm as he noticed me stirring. "Sleep well?"

Glancing at the clock, I bolted upright. "Nine-thirty? Why didn't you wake me? I was supposed to train with Ryder and Lydia this morning."

Adrian sat on the edge of the bed, pouring coffee into a mug before handing it to me. "You were having nightmares last night," he explained, concern evident in his eyes. "I thought you needed the rest more than the training."

I accepted the coffee gratefully, trying to recall the dreams that had apparently disturbed my sleep. Only fragments remained—water, darkness, and a sense of desperate searching. The aftermath of our underwater trial, no doubt.

"Did I say anything?" I asked, reaching for a pastry.

Adrian shook his head. "Just thrashing and mumbling. You calmed down when I held you."

The thought of Adrian watching over me through the night brought warmth to my cheeks.

I'd barely finished my breakfast when my phone rang, an unknown number flashing on the screen. With slight hesitation, I answered.

"Hello?"

"Hello, little warrior."

My heart skipped a beat at the familiar voice and nickname that only one person had ever used.

"Dad?" I whispered, hardly believing my ears.

"The one and only," he replied, his deep voice filled with a warmth I'd missed desperately. "Your mother told me you called. I had to hear your voice for myself."

Tears pricked my eyes as I gripped the phone tighter. "It's so good to hear you."

"Look at you now," he continued, pride evident in his tone. "A true warrior after all. My daughter, the Beta of Oasisborn Pack. I always knew you had it in you."

"I still carry Tink everywhere," I told him, referring to the dagger he'd gifted me on my birthday. "It's saved my life more than once. Unlike Ethan's bone flute—I hardly ever play it. Guess I don't have much musical talent."

My father's chuckle rumbled through the phone. "You always were more warrior than musician." His voice softened. "These past years... they must have been difficult for you."

"I managed," I said, not wanting to worry him with details of my struggles.

"Do you remember what I told you when I gave you Tink?" he asked.

I smiled at the memory. "You said you hoped I'd never need to use it. But Dad, I couldn't live under your protection forever. I needed to find my own way." I glanced at Adrian, who was quietly gathering the breakfast dishes. "I'm doing well now, I promise."

"Whatever path you choose, I respect it," my father said solemnly. "But I can't help worrying about this Alpha King election. The second trial is in two days..."

"You participated in the Alpha King election with Alpha James, didn't you?" I reminded him. "You made it through the second trial."

There was a heavy pause before he responded. "We did, but it was... brutal. There was a game called 'The Seesaw.' I still have nightmares about it."

My curiosity piqued, I asked Adrian to stay, then mind-linked Ryder and Lydia, asking them to join us. Within minutes, they had arrived, and I put the phone on speaker.

"Dad, can you tell us about this Seesaw game? My team is here listening."

"The setup is deceptively simple," my father began, his voice taking on a grim quality. "A massive stone at the edge of a cliff acts as a fulcrum. Balanced on it is a long beam with metal boxes—about four square meters each—attached to either end. Each team is locked inside one of the boxes."

I exchanged concerned glances with Adrian as my father continued.

"The floor of each box is made of wire mesh—not tight enough to provide solid footing, but enough to hold your weight. Through it, you can see nothing but air beneath you and the deadly drop to the rocks below."

Ryder let out a low whistle, but remained silent as my father described the challenge.

"A clock starts ticking. Survive balanced on the seesaw for ten minutes, and your team passes the trial. But immediately, our box began to tip downward."

"What happened?" Lydia asked, her eyes narrowed in concentration.

"The opposing team was shedding weight," my father explained. "They were dropping everything through the mesh floor—equipment, weapons, even their clothes. To counter, we had to do the same."

His voice grew heavier. "In the final minutes, one of our warriors... he tore off his own arm and dropped it through the mesh to lighten our side. We won by the narrowest margin. The other team all fell, suffering severe injuries."

A horrified silence filled the room. Ryder's face had paled, while Adrian's jaw tightened with tension.

"It seems victory demands a terrible price," Ryder finally said, his usual carefree demeanor replaced by somber realization.

My father's heavy sigh came through the speaker. "That's just it—there was no need for any price at all."

We all leaned forward in surprise.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"If both teams had simply remained still—if no one had panicked and started dropping items—both boxes would have stayed perfectly balanced for the entire ten minutes. Both teams would have passed."

The revelation hit us like a physical blow. So simple, yet so easily overlooked when fear takes hold.

"But in that moment of crisis, with the timer counting down and your life seemingly hanging in the balance, cooperation is the last thing on anyone's mind," my father continued. "Fear makes enemies of potential allies. Panic clouds judgment."

Adrian nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes. "The trial isn't testing physical strength at all."

"Exactly," my father confirmed. "Calm minds and cooperation—that's the true key to the wisdom trial. But competition and fear make people lose their ability to think clearly and trust others."

"Thank you for this insight," Adrian said earnestly. "It could save lives. I promise you, no matter what happens, I'll protect Skye with my life."

"Not with your life, young Alpha," my father corrected gently. "With your wisdom. That will serve her far better."