Crowned by Fate Chapter 158

Adrian's POV

Skye rushed to my side.

She dropped to her knees beside me, not caring about the blood pooling around my mother's body. Her green eyes searched my face with an intensity that cut through my grief.

"Adrian," she said softly, cupping my face in her hands. "Look at me. This isn't real."

I shook my head, unable to tear my gaze from my mother's still form. "I killed her. My claws went right through her chest. I felt it, Skye. I felt her die."

"No." Her voice was firm, gentle but insistent. "This is the maze playing with your mind. Your mother isn't here. She's back in Stormhowl, alive and well."

Maxwell stood watching us, his expression unreadable now.

Skye pulled me against her, wrapping her arms around me tightly. I buried my face in her shoulder, breathing in her scent. She smelled like pine forests and winter mornings, like home. My body shook with suppressed sobs.

"It's okay," she whispered, stroking my hair. "None of this is real. The maze feeds on your guilt and fears. It's showing you what you're most afraid of."

I pulled back slightly to look at her. Tears blurred my vision, but I could see the certainty in her eyes. "But the blood..."

"Is an illusion." She wiped the tears from my cheeks with her thumbs. "Just like everything else in this place."

I glanced back at where my mother's body had been. The floor was clean. No blood, no signs of violence. Even the broken furniture had vanished. Maxwell was gone too, as if he'd never been there at all.

"See?" Skye said gently. "It wasn't real."

The relief that flooded through me was overwhelming. I sagged against her, letting her hold my weight. But the guilt remained, eating at me from the inside.

"I couldn't protect Nadia," I said, my voice breaking. "She died because of me. Because I wasn't strong enough, wasn't fast enough."

Skye's arms tightened around me. "That wasn't your fault."

"And I couldn't protect you either." I touched the faint scar on her shoulder, a reminder of the attack that had nearly killed her. "You got hurt because of me. Everyone who gets close to me gets hurt."

She pulled back to look at me, her expression fierce. "Stop that. You don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, Adrian. You don't have to be responsible for everyone and everything."

"I'm an Alpha," I said. "It's my job to protect my pack."

"But who protects you?" She touched my chest, right over my heart. "You're so busy trying to save everyone else that you're destroying yourself. You don't have to do this."

I frowned, not understanding. "Do what?"

"Any of it." She took my hands in hers, her touch warm and grounding. "You don't have to compete for Alpha King. You don't even have to be an Alpha if you don't want to. We could leave all of this behind."

The suggestion was so unexpected that I could only stare at her. "What are you saying?"

A smile played at the corners of her lips. "I'm saying we have choices. We could walk away from pack politics, from the elections, from all the fighting and bloodshed. Just you and me, exploring the world together."

"Skye..."

"Think about it," she continued, her eyes bright with possibility. "We could go anywhere, do anything. Travel to places neither of us has ever seen. We could get married in a little church somewhere, just the two of us. No pack traditions, no ceremonies, just our love."

The picture she painted was so vivid I could almost see it. A simple wedding, her in a white dress, wildflowers in her hair. No politics, no responsibilities, just us.

"We could find a small town somewhere," she went on, warming to her theme. "Get jobs, blend in with the humans. I could work at another bar, you could do construction or teach self-defense. We'd have a little house with a garden."

I found myself drawn into her vision despite my doubts. "A garden?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "I've always wanted to grow things. Tomatoes, herbs, maybe some flowers. We'd have a porch swing where we could sit in the evenings, watching the sunset."

"And children?"

Her smile grew softer, more intimate. "As many as you want. Little ones with your amber eyes and my stubbornness. We'd teach them to be strong but gentle, to choose their own paths."

I could see it so clearly. Skye pregnant with our child, her hand on her swollen belly. Teaching our sons to be honorable, our daughters to be fierce. Birthday parties and bedtime stories, scraped knees and first days of school.

"They wouldn't have to worry about pack hierarchies or politics," she continued. "They could just be kids. Go to human schools, make human friends. Have the childhood we never got to have."

"But they'd still be werewolves," I pointed out.

"And we'd teach them control, teach them our ways. But they wouldn't be bound by them. They could choose whether to join a pack or live among humans. Their lives would be their own."

The life she described was everything I'd never dared to dream of. Peace. Simplicity. Freedom from the constant weight of leadership and responsibility.

"We could grow old together," she said softly. "Watching our grandchildren play in that garden. No wars, no challenges, no one trying to kill us for power. Just love and family and time."

I felt myself wavering. The temptation was so strong. To leave everything behind, to choose happiness over duty.

"I don't know," I said finally. "My pack needs me. They're counting on me to create a better world for all werewolves."

She moved closer, her hands sliding up my chest. "But what about what you need? What about what we need?"