Destiny's Game* Chapter 18: Secrets Untold

Charles’ POV

What was she even talking about?

That a bond could be broken?

The fated bond wasn’t so childish rumor. It was ancient, sacred — sothing woven into history itself. The kind of thing you didn’t tamper with.

"Anna," I said, my voice sharp, almost trembling. "What are you implying? What the fuck are you implying? It can’t just be broken like that!"

She nodded — slowly, hesitantly. "It can be broken. Not easily, though."

I stared at her. "Do you even know how?"

"No," she admitted. "Not exactly. I’ve just heard rumors... read things. Old books. Forbidden ones I found back when I visited my ancestral ho."

I raised a brow. "You what?"

"Forget that part," she said quickly. "The point is, I’ll find out how. I’ll search for a way to help you, Charles."

"But you don’t know how yet?" I pressed.

Anna fumbled for words. "I— I an, not completely. But I know where to start. I know who might know."

My heart skipped. "How long would that take?"

She looked uncertain. "A year. Maybe two... maybe more. But I’ll find soone. I swear I will. Soone who can help you break the bond."

"You’re serious?" I asked, disbelief heavy in my voice.

She nodded. "Dead serious. But it can’t be done by just anyone. Even though I’m of pure blood, I’m still too young, too inexperienced. It has to be done by a spirit dium."

"A what?" I stared at her like she’d grown another head.

"That’s what they’re called," she said firmly. "They’re ancient — people who can communicate with the energy of bonds, with spirits that govern connections. They can sever ties that were ant to last forever."

I couldn’t help it — I laughed, sharp and humorless.

"Spirit diums? Really, Anna? What kind of old fairytale garbage is that? We’re not in the stone age."

She glared at . "Believe it or not, I’ll prove it. I’ll show you. You think I’m making it up, but I’ll find one — you’ll see."

"Fine," I snapped. "Then show the fucking spirit dium who can break a fucking mate bond."

And right then — like the universe decided to mock — the door creaked open.

"What spirit dium?"

My mother’s voice cut through the room like a blade.

Anna froze. I turned pale.

Mother stepped in, her eyes flicking from to Anna, her expression unreadable. "Well?" she said softly. "What’s this about?"

Anna stamred, "Oh— it’s nothing, ma’am, we were just—"

"Just?" Mother’s tone sharpened. "Anna, how could you co into my son’s room without greeting first? That’s very rude."

"I’m sorry, ma’am. Good morning— I an, good afternoon—"

"It’s almost evening," Mother said curtly, glancing at the clock. "We’ve been waiting for you since morning. You said you’d co early. But look at the ti."

Anna’s face turned red. "I— I’m really sorry, ma’am."

Mother sighed deeply and crossed her arms. "We need to talk. You and Charles — both of you. Because sothing is wrong, and I intend to find out what. My son has changed. He’s distant. Quiet. And I won’t just stand by and watch him slip away."

She stepped closer, her eyes flicking to again — softer now, but still sharp with worry.

"Your mother is on her way, Anna," she added, her tone final. "And when she gets here, the four of us are going to have a very serious discussion."

I swallowed hard.

Because sohow... I knew this wasn’t just about my mood anymore.

This was about everything I’d been hiding.

---

By the end of it, I was staring at three people — my mother, Anna, and her mother — all standing in my room like a jury waiting for a confession.

Anna looked like she wanted to disappear. She was sweating, shifting, biting her lip like she’d swallowed a secret she couldn’t spit out.

And ? I was the one laying on the bed bandaged all over and a thousand secrets crawling beneath my skin — but sohow, she was the one shaking.

Anna’s mom looked at , her expression a careful mix of concern and control. "Charles," she began softly, "you and Anna have been best friends for so long. But when you have problems, you keep them to yourself. And now look where that’s gotten you."

Her tone was kinder than my mother’s, but I wasn’t fooled.

Everyone said she was sweet — compassionate. But they hadn’t seen her when the mask dropped.

Anna might call her mother an angel, but to ? She was an angel of death.

Miles Wildwing — the woman everyone respected, feared, and tried not to cross. The kind of person who could smile and sentence you at the sa ti. When I was younger, I used to get punished in her house for the smallest mistakes. Scrubbing floors, fixing things I didn’t break. I learned fast that behind that gentle smile was sothing far more ruthless.

Still, she looked genuinely hurt now — eyes soft, tone motherly.

But my own mother... I couldn’t even look at her. I felt ashad.

It wasn’t my fault — not really.

I’d just been pushed. Pushed by Louis’ words, his voice echoing in my head like a curse.

"Adopted rat."

That’s what he called .

Reminded that I wasn’t really his brother.

That I didn’t belong.

And yet — he was the one who begged for to be adopted. He was seven. I was four.

He wanted .

He chose .

I loved him for that. I still love him.

That’s what makes it unbearable.

Because no matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I wanted to rip that love out of my chest, it wouldn’t die.

Even without the bond — even without fate forcing our paths to tangle — I would have still fallen for him.

I knew it before I turned eighteen.

I knew it before I even understood what being a mate ant.

I knew that Louis was the one I wanted — to stand beside, to fight with, to love.

But how could I tell my parents that?

How could I tell them that I, Charles Jones, was fated to the sa man they called their son?

How could I tell them that Louis — their golden boy — would one day be bound to , not by blood, but by sothing deeper, older, forbidden?

That’s why I reacted that night. That’s why I broke. Because the truth was too much.

Mother’s voice cut through my thoughts.

"Charles." Her tone was low, commanding. "Tell us. What’s wrong?"

I said nothing.

The silence was suffocating — thick, like smoke filling my lungs.

Her eyes — sharp, cold, the eyes of an Oga who refused to be small — pinned where I sat.

She might not have Alpha power, but her glare could burn through steel.

I shivered.

And then, Anna — bless her terrified soul — spoke.

"His lover," she blurted, voice cracking, "decided to cheat on him... with an Oga."

The room fell silent. My heart stopped.

Her mother froze. My mother blinked — once, twice — as if her mind was scrambling to process what she’d just heard.

Finally, Mother turned to . "You... have a lover?" Her voice was softer now, trembling at the edges. "I thought you were single. You’ve always told everything, Charles. You even told when Brian stole your girlfriend in junior year. Why didn’t you tell about this?"

Her words hit harder than any slap.

Because she didn’t know — couldn’t know — that this wasn’t just any lover.

That this was Louis.

That this was the truth I could never say out loud.