Strings of Fate

Every thread tells a story—blue for friends, black for enemies, green for mentors. But what about the elusive red thread, the one that binds two souls forever? Ryann Gale can see them all, a tangled, vibrant mess of destinies. Yet, her own path remains a mystery, especially the recurring, tantalizing dream of a man she's never met. When a chance encounter leads to a dramatic revelation about a red thread and a shocking proposal, Ryann is thrust into a world of Shifters, secrets, and an Alpha who might just be her destiny—or her biggest mistake. Can she unravel the truth before fate ties her to the wrong side of the threads?

Strings of Fate

Every thread tells a story—blue for friends, black for enemies, green for mentors. But what about the elusive red thread, the one that binds two souls forever? Ryann Gale can see them all, a tangled, vibrant mess of destinies. Yet, her own path remains a mystery, especially the recurring, tantalizing dream of a man she's never met. When a chance encounter leads to a dramatic revelation about a red thread and a shocking proposal, Ryann is thrust into a world of Shifters, secrets, and an Alpha who might just be her destiny—or her biggest mistake. Can she unravel the truth before fate ties her to the wrong side of the threads?

The blaring alarm ripped me from the embrace of a familiar, tantalizing dream. That man again, the one who appeared in my bed whenever sleep claimed me deeply, only to vanish with the dawn. “Damn,” I muttered, looking at my wet panties, another good dream interrupted by the demands of the real world.

Borderline, my workplace, was a chaotic blend of human and Magic patrons, a perfect, if unglamorous, fit for someone like me: marked, but with no identifiable magic skills. I was an 'unknown,' a label earned after being left at a magical beings' hospital as an infant, my bloodline a mystery.

My unique ability, the one that branded me a daydreamer at work, was seeing the threads of fate. Not just the red ones, linking soulmates, but blue for friends, black for enemies, and occasionally green for mentors, white for saviors. A confusing, tangled mess, but one I navigated daily.

Today, as I served a coven of Witches their monthly 'girls' night' wine, a soft blue thread drifted from my chest, leading out the door, promising a fated friend. I yearned to follow it, but Saturday night dinner rush meant I couldn't ditch my shift. It was fate, I reminded myself, it would happen when it was meant to.

But then, an hour later, the blue thread led me to table thirteen, to Megan Kane, a stunning Shifter. And beside her, a man named Tristan, proposing. My heart sank. His red thread, solid and tight, led not to Megan, but out the door, to someone else entirely. This was wrong. Fate had a plan, and it wasn't this. And for the first time, I felt compelled to interfere.