Chosen as the Cursed Alpha's Seventh Bride

Tiffany’s POV

Another birthday. Twenty years old now. Every year except my eighteenth, when I shifted for the first time and the house went strangely quiet, Mom threw me these elaborate pack gatherings. She’d invite wolves from allied packs, Dad would spoil my every whim with that fond smile of his, and even Fynn would spend the whole day with me if I asked. I’d gather my closest friends, and we’d laugh until our sides hurt.

But this year? I couldn’t scrape together an ounce of excitement.

My best friend Marlena had texted earlier, all enthusiasm and exclamation points. She wanted to throw me a proper party. The kind where we’d hit a club downtown, dance until dawn, maybe sneak in some drinks if we could swing it. No stuffy pack house formalities. No polite small talk with visiting Alphas. Just us, loud music, and freedom.

A year ago, I would’ve jumped at it. I’d have begged Fynn to talk Sebastian out of a curfew, out of sending someone to shadow me all night.

This year, all I had was this hollow ache in my chest. No anticipation. No joy. Just a sadness pressing down on me like a weight I couldn’t shake.

Then Emilia knocked that morning, holding up a gorgeous outfit like she’d just pulled off a heist, and I remembered why I loved my sister-in-law so much. She refused to let me wallow.

Now here I was, out in the cool morning air, dressed like someone who had her life together, staring at Fynn Jaymond and his neatly wrapped gift box.

He looked good. He always looked good. Dark hair a little tousled, that easy confidence in the way he stood. And those eyes. Warm, steady, completely oblivious to the storm they’d stirred in me for years.

"Tiffany. Happy birthday." He stepped forward and held out the gift. "Didn’t you say you wanted to see Evergreen Park? I took the day off. I’ll take you."

Evergreen Park.

The name hit me like a slap. I’d mentioned it once. Once. Three years ago, when I was seventeen and stupidly, desperately in love with him. I’d said it would be romantic in autumn, when the leaves turned gold. He’d laughed and ruffled my hair like I was a kid begging for a pony.

And now, on my twentieth birthday, he was offering it up like some consolation prize.

Emilia’s hand settled on my shoulder, gentle but firm. Her eyes told me to take it, to accept this olive branch, even if it came three years too late and wrapped in pity instead of love.

"Say something," Nyra murmured in my mind. "Don’t just stand there like a wounded deer."

Right. I wasn’t that girl anymore.

I took a breath, lifted my chin, and met Fynn’s eyes with a smile that didn’t quite reach. "Let’s talk for a minute."

Confusion flickered across his face, but he nodded. We walked away from the house, away from Emilia’s watchful gaze, to the stone bench near the garden. Quiet, private, far enough that no one would overhear.

I turned to face him and squared my shoulders. "I’m sorry, Fynn. I can’t go out with you."

"Why?"

He looked genuinely surprised. Almost hurt. Like he couldn’t fathom why I’d say no.

A bitter laugh climbed my throat. I swallowed it down. "I know you’re shocked. Big surprise, right? Tiffany actually saying no to you." I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, buying a second to steady my voice. "I’m not saying no because I don’t want to spend time with you. It’s because I’m a grown woman now, Fynn. I have self-respect. I have boundaries."

His brows drew together, but he stayed quiet.

"So even if you don’t like me that way," I went on, forcing the words out even as they scraped my throat raw, "please stop treating me like I’m still that annoying kid trailing after you, calling you ’Brother Fynn.’"

I let it sit. His face was unreadable, which somehow made it worse.

"I’m never going to Evergreen Park," I said quietly. "Not with you. Not with anyone else, even if I meet someone who actually loves me one day. That place is part of the past now. And I’m done living there."

The finality of it settled over me like armor. For the first time in years, I could breathe.

I turned, slow and deliberate, and walked away. Each step felt lighter than the last, like I was shedding some invisible chain I’d been dragging.

Behind me, he said my name. Just once. Soft, almost broken.

I didn’t look back.

Fynn’s POV

I stood frozen, watching Tiffany’s figure disappear around the corner of the house.

The little girl who used to beg me to push her on the swings, who’d trail after me at pack meetings with stars in her eyes, who’d laughed at all my terrible jokes. She was gone.

In her place was this poised, guarded woman who’d just told me, in the kindest way possible, to fuck off.

And the worst part? She was right.

I looked down at the gift still in my hands, a first edition of her favorite book, something I’d hunted down for weeks, and felt like an absolute idiot.

"You really screwed this up," my wolf, Ash, muttered darkly. "She deserved better than your half-assed pity trip."

"I know," I said.

I’d spent so long seeing her as Sebastian’s baby sister, someone to protect and humor, that I’d missed the moment she stopped being a kid.

I shoved the gift into my jacket pocket and turned back toward my car, jaw tight, chest hollow.

Tiffany Simons had grown up.