Crowned by Fate (Skye) novel Chapter 51

Chapter 51

Skye’s POV

Ryder’s eyes found mine across the flickering campfire, his fingers poised over the guitar strings.

The intensity of his gaze made me shift uncomfortably where I sat on the ground.

I glanced toward Adrian, finding his amber eyes already fixed on us. His expression was thunderous, jaw clenched so tightly I could almost hear his teeth grinding from across the fire.

The hostility radiating from him was palpable, intense enough that several nearby pack members instinctively leaned away from their Alpha

Then Ryder began to play, and the tension temporarily dissolved as everyone’s attention shifted to the music. His fingers moved deftly across the strings, coaxing a melody both haunting and sweet from the instrument.

When he started singing, his voice carried surprising depth and emotion:

I’m tripping on you

Stone all the time

When you make me lose my mind

Kissing your lips with your hair in my face

Telling your lies With no disgrace…”

His voice rose with confidence as he reached the chorus:

“Couldn’t be better, better, better than this

Could it be better, better, better than this?

Better give me a kiss Your kiss, your kiss.”

I kept my expression carefully neutral as he continued through the second verse, though I could feel heat rising to my cheeks.

‘You’re here in my place

Up in my face and you’ll never let me rest

The Sun lights the day

As I find my way through

The dreams we chase and the nights we miss

It couldn’t be better, better, better than this

It could be better, better, better than this

Your kiss, your kiss…”

As the final note faded into the desert night, a moment of appreciative silence fell over the group before they erupted into applause and cheers.

Ryder’s face split into a wide grin, his boyish features alight with pleasure at their reception.

1/3

Chapter 51

That was amazing!” one of the younger warriors called out. ‘What’s it called?”

Better Than This, Ryder replied, his voice carrying a hint of suggestion as his eyes remained fixed on me.

The group’s enthusiasm quickly morphed into something more mischievous. Several of the warriors began nudging each other, exchanging knowing la

‘So who’s the song for, Ryder? someone shouted, triggering a chorus of teasing whoops.

‘Yeah, spill it! Who’s got you writing love songs?”

Ryder’s grin widened as he adjusted his grip on the guitar, clearly preparing to make some grand declaration. My stomach dropped as he opened his mouth, his eyes locked firmly on mine across the fire. I silently willed him not to say my name, not to put me in this impossible position in front of the entire

group.

“It’s for- Ryder began, but was abruptly cut off.

“That was quite impressive, Adrian interjected, his voice carrying the unmistakable weight of Alpha authority despite its outward casualness. The song has genuine merit. Does anyone else have a performance to share tonight?”

The stark contrast between Adrian’s cold tone and his complimentary words created an immediate pall over the gathering. The previously animated atmosphere deflated like a punctured balloon, leaving an awkward silence in its wake.

Pack members exchanged uncertain glances, no one quite brave enough to fill the void Adrian had created.

After several excruciating seconds of silence, Nadia cleared her throat. “Well, it seems Ryder is Oasisborn’s sole musician,” she remarked dryly.

Her dark eyes scanned the assembled group before brightening with sudden inspiration.

“How about we try something more active? I have an idea–a hunting game I designed for training our younger wolves.

Interest immediately rekindled across the campsite. Nadia held up a finger, signaling us to wait as she strode purposefully toward the vehicles parked at the edge of our campsite.

When she returned moments later, she carried an assortment of masks in her arms–some crafted to resemble wolves, others shaped like rabbits.

‘Perfect for a full moon night,’ she announced, holding the masks aloft. The pack members leaned forward with renewed interest, the earlier tension forgotten in the face of potential entertainment.

“The rules are simple, Nadia explained, sorting the masks into two piles. “Those who draw wolf masks are hunters. Those who draw rabbit masks are prey. For one hour, hunters will track and capture as many rabbits as possible, while the rabbits try to evade capture.

A younger warrior raised his hand. “So the winners are the wolves who catch the most rabbits?”

“Yes,” Nadia confirmed, “but also any rabbits who manage to remain uncaught by the end of the hour.”

The warrior’s brow furrowed in confusion. “So prey can win too?”

Nadia’s lips curved into a rare smile. “Survival is its own victory, wouldn’t you say?”

I couldn’t help but appreciate the wisdom in her approach. Unlike traditional werewolf hunting festivals where only the strongest predators were celebrated Nadia’s game honored both the hunter’s skill and the prey’s cunning.

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