Her Fate

“Lift me, Daddy! Lift me!” I squeal, my laughter filling the room as my dad’s face lights up. He hoists me up into his arms, and I wrap my arms around him in the biggest hug I can muster. The smell of freshly baked cookies wafts in from the kitchen, making my mouth water.

“Mmm, those smell so good!” My dad sets me down on the couch, plopping down next to me. My big brother, Derrick, is the first to snatch a cookie from the plate our mom sets on the coffee table.

“Slow down, son,” my dad warns. Derrick gulps down his cookie and lowers his head. I reach over and pat his head, trying to comfort him.

My mom takes a seat on the arm of the couch, my dad’s hand resting on her back. The fire crackles in the fireplace, and I can’t help but admire the festive decorations.

The Christmas tree, cut down by my dad from the forest surrounding our territory, is adorned with twinkling white lights and a mix of old and new ornaments.

Our fireplace, a large brick structure that my dad takes great pride in, is kept spotless during the winter. Our stockings hang on the side, a lesson we learned the hard way last year.

As I finish my milk and cookies, my dad hands Derrick and me small presents. I can’t help but grin as I tear into the wrapping paper. My excitement bubbles over.

“No way!” Derrick gasps. We both hold up brand new iPods, complete with matching cases and headphones.

“Thank you guys!” Derrick and I leap up to hug our parents. My mom laughs as Derrick wraps her in a tight hug. His relationship with my dad is a bit strained, so they share a knowing look instead.

“Alright, time for bed, kiddos!” My mom says, her smile warm. “You can play with these tomorrow after you open your other presents.”

“But Mama,” I protest, “Daddy has to tell us a bedtime story!”

“She’s right.” Derrick grins at me. “It’s tradition.”

My dad scoops me up into his arms and clears his throat. My mom settles on the other side of the couch, Derrick nestled in her arms.

“Tell us the history of the pack,” I request. “Please, Daddy?”

“Oh, sweetheart, I don’t think—” My dad raises his hand to stop my mom’s protest. She nods in understanding.

“Long ago, before your mother and I were in charge, our pack lived in the Celestial Realm.”

My dad strokes my hair as he continues, “Our wolves were revered by the humans outside the Realm’s borders. They sought protection from us. Our wolves found their mates among the humans or within our own pack, before the time of the Fates.”

“Who are the Fates?” I ask, munching on another cookie.

“The Fates are the ones who separated our wolves from the Celestial Realm, sweetie.” My mom explains, “They are above all Gods, Goddesses, and Celestials. We are, in a way, their subjects.”

My dad picks up the story, “Every thousand years, one of the Fates dies. This disrupts the balance of their council of eight. So, our first Alpha struck a deal with the Fates, allowing us to visit the Celestial Realm.”

“What was the deal?” Derrick asks, his impatience showing. I feel a low growl rumble from my dad, causing Derrick to shrink back.

“Every thousand years, the Fates would hold a feast with our pack.” My mom soothes Derrick, shooting my dad a stern look. “One of our males, chosen by the Fates, would replace the Fate who had passed.”

“I wouldn’t want to be his mate,” I say, “Being so far away…”

“That’s why it’s forbidden for a female to mate with the chosen male,” my dad explains, “Any female who does is sentenced to death. If she isn’t executed, her wolf must be forcibly separated from her to break the bond.”

“That sounds harsh.” I sigh.

“It’s for the good of the pack and the Fates, Princess.” My dad stands, holding me in his arms. He gives me a gentle hug. “But don’t worry. No female has ever been the mate of the chosen males.”