(Siena’s POV)
Haiden’s eyes haunt me long after I walk away.
The heat of his jealousy, the raw edge of his questions about Alaric–it clings to me like smoke, unwelcome and suffocating
My wolf, traitorous as always, stirs with restless energy, but I shove her back into the recesses of my mind. She doesn’t get a say in this. Not anymore.
For nearly two years, I’ve worked to rebuild myself, to find any value beyond the shadow of our broken bond.
I’ve stitched together a life where his approval, his presence, his recognition no longer matter.
And yet, the moment he looks at me with that mix of longing and regret, it stirs something I thought I buried.
I hate it.
I hate that he still has this effect on me, that his presence feels like a threat to the equilibrium I’ve fought so to achieve.
Back in my temporary quarters at Windhowl, I throw clothes into my suitcase with far more force than necessary. The room is small, a guest space that feels impersonal, but it’s better this way.
I don’t want familiarity.
I don’t want to feel like I belong here anymore.
I’m packing to leave three days early.
I tell myself it’s because my work abroad is waiting for me, because I’ve already accomplished everything I came here to do. But as I shove another shirt into the bag, I know the truth: I’m running.
The door creaks open behind me, and I smell Raírity before I see her–her scent warm and grounding, like cedar and cinnamon. She doesn’t say anything at first, just leans against the doorframe and watches me with those sharp, knowing eyes.
“Running away?” she asks finally, her tone free of judgment.
The question stops me mid–motion, a pair of folded jeans in my hands. I turn to face her, my chest tightening at the quiet understanding in her gaze.
“Perhaps,” I admit softly, the word tasting bitter on my tongue.
Rairity steps into the room, crossing her arms as she leans against the wall. “I can’t blame you,” she says. “Being near him… I imagine it’s complicated.”
I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head. “Complicated is an understatement.”
She doesn’t press me, doesn’t push for answers I’m not ready to give. Instead, she says something that lodges itself deep in my chest.
“Healing doesn’t mean absence of feeling, Alpha. It means feeling without being destroyed by it.”
Her words hit harder than I expect, and for a moment, I can’t respond. I stare at my half–packed suitcase, the edges of her wisdom settling into the cracks of my resolve.
“I’ll think about it,” I say finally, my voice quieter now.
1/7/2
Chaser 118
Rairity smile is soft and knowing. “Good,” she says. “Because if anyone deserves to leave on their own terres, it’s you.”
She leaves me with that thought, and as the door closes behind her, I sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the suitcase that suddenly feels like an escape I’m not ready to take.
***
The next evening, I find myself at Windhowl’s moonlight gathering
It’s strange, standing on the outskirts of something I helped create.
The gathering is one of the traditions I revitalized during my leadership, a celebration meant to bring the pack together beneath the silver glow of the full moon. Watching the pack members now–dancing, laughing, living–1 feel a quiet sense of pride.
I helped build this.
The thought brings a flicker of contentment, rare and fleeting but meaningful all the same. Their happiness, their unity–it’s proof that my efforts weren’t in vain.
Windhowl has thrived, even in my absence. Maybe because of it.
I lean against a tree at the edge of the clearing, my arms crossed as I watch the scene unfold. The music is lively, the rhythm infectious, but I don’t move to join them. This isn’t my place anymore.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
