CHAPTER 36: FRACTURED FATES.

Charles’ POV

Was I loving the chaos?

Yes.

Did I care that their relationship was falling apart?

Not in the slightest — that was the point. That was the goal.

But did my conscience bite me for hurting Alistair?

...Yeah. It did.

He didn’t deserve this. Not really. He was kind — too kind — the kind of person who believed love could fix anything if you just tried hard enough. I used that against him. I wanted to.

Every smile he gave Louis made something in me twist, like jealousy and pain braided together too tightly to tell apart. So I did what I always do when something hurts — I turned it into control. Manipulation. Revenge dressed up as charm.

And it worked.

Louis was doubting, Alistair was hesitating, and I... I was watching the cracks widen. It should’ve felt satisfying — watching the man who ruined me finally lose what he loved. But it didn’t. Not completely.

Sometimes, when Alistair laughed at something I said — really laughed — I felt this strange pull in my chest. Like maybe, in another world, I wouldn’t have used him at all. Maybe I would’ve just loved him.

But this wasn’t that world.

And I wasn’t that person anymore.

After Louis and Alistair ran off, I didn’t have any business in their room — not when it always reminded me of those times.

A few years ago, Louis’s room used to be filled with pieces of me.

My sneakers by his door.

My T-shirts folded neatly in his drawer because he said he liked the way they smelled.

My books scattered across his nightstand, my laughter echoing off his walls.

Back then, it wasn’t his room. It was ours.

I remember the mornings — the quiet ones — when he’d still be half-asleep, and I’d trace circles on his wrist just to watch him stir. I thought I knew what forever looked like in those moments. Turns out, it was just temporary comfort disguised as love.

Now that same room feels foreign. The walls are the same, the light hits the same corner of the bed, but everything inside has changed. Even the air feels different. Colder.

I shouldn’t have stayed as long as I did, but my feet refused to move. Maybe I was waiting for something — for Louis to come back, for the past to stop haunting me, for this stupid ache in my chest to quiet down.

But none of that happened.

Instead, I looked around at their things — his watch beside Alistair’s mug, a picture frame of the two of them smiling — and felt something sharp twist inside me.

That should’ve been me.

And maybe that’s why I’m doing this.

Because watching him love someone else feels like punishment — and I’ve had enough of being the only one who hurts.

I snapped out of my thoughts and decided to walk back to my room. The walls felt tighter the longer I stayed there — like the memories were trying to crawl out of them.

As I walked down the hall, my mind drifted to Anna.

I wondered how far she’d gone with finding a way to break fated bonds. We didn’t really discuss it during our get-together — too much laughter, too much pretending everything was fine.

But I knew her. She never forgot a promise, especially one that dangerous.

If anyone could figure it out, it was Anna. She had a way of finding cracks in things people swore were unbreakable — rules, hearts, destiny.

And me? I needed those cracks.

Because no matter how much I lied to myself, every move I made — every word to Alistair, every look at Louis — was still tied to that bond.

That invisible thread that pulled every part of me toward someone who had already chosen someone else.

I wasn’t ready to cut it yet.

But I wanted to know that I could.

I was welcomed into my room with silence — that heavy kind that presses against your chest.

The air still smelled faintly of cologne and dust; I’d left the window open that morning, hoping the wind would clear the thoughts clawing at my head. It didn’t.

I picked up my phone from the bed and scrolled through my contacts until I found her name.

Anna.

The line rang twice before she picked up.

"Charles?" Her voice sounded half-asleep but still warm — like sunlight through tired clouds.

"Hey," I said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You busy?"

"Define busy," she teased. "If you mean reading questionable online theories about supernatural bonds, then yes — very."

I couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped me. "So you actually started?"

"Of course. You think I’d let my favorite troublemaker suffer in silence?" she said. "Though I have to admit, this stuff’s creepy. Some of these rituals look like they were written by people high on moonlight."

"Moonlight’s powerful," I murmured.

"Don’t tell me you’ve tried something already."

"Not yet," I said, running a hand through my hair. "But I need to know if it’s possible. To... undo what fate tied."

Her voice softened. "You’re talking about Louis."

"I’m talking about freedom," I corrected — too fast, too sharp.

A pause. Then a sigh. "You can lie to yourself, Charles, but not to me."

I leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "Then maybe I just don’t want to spend the rest of my life haunted by someone who doesn’t want me."

"Breaking a fated bond isn’t just hard — it’s dangerous," she said. "And if you try without the right balance, it’ll destroy both of you."

"Maybe that’s the point," I whispered.

"Charles." Her voice was warning now — full of care, but edged with fear.

"I’m not saying I’ll do it. I just... want to know how close we are."

Another pause, then: "Closer than you think. But I don’t like where this is going."

I smiled faintly. "You never do."

"But I’ve traced a spirit medium," she said.

"Somewhere in this city."

I sat up immediately, the tiredness leaving my body like it had never existed.

"A spirit medium?" I repeated. "You’re serious?"

"As a heart attack," Anna replied. "She’s not exactly easy to find though. No name, no fixed address — just a trail of people who claim she can sever bonds others can’t even see."

I frowned. "And you trust those rumors?"

"I don’t trust them," she said quietly. "But I believe in what desperation can make true."

Her words hung in the air, heavy. Desperation — yeah, that sounded a lot like me lately.

"Where do I start?" I asked.

"I’ll send you a location," she said. "An old shop near the docks. People say she shows up when she wants to, not when you do."

"That’s cryptic."

Anna gave a humorless laugh. "You wanted answers, not comfort."

She wasn’t wrong.

"Thanks, Anna," I said after a long silence.

"Charles..." she hesitated. "Be careful. I don’t want to wake up one day and find out you vanished chasing something you can’t control."

I smiled faintly, though she couldn’t see it. "Don’t worry. I’ve made peace with losing control a long time ago."

I ended the call before she could say anything else, the screen going dark as my reflection stared back — hollow-eyed, tired, but determined.

The docks, huh?

If that’s where the answers were, then that’s where I was going.