After leaving home, I returned to the place where I had truly grown up—the rugged outskirts of a smaller pack, a place where shadows of my past lingered but no one knew the girl I once was.
I walked through familiar streets, passed by faces I recognized from a distance—faces that once ignored me or looked through me like I was nothing.
But now, none of them recognized the young stray werewolf I used to be: the one who survived by scavenging scraps, unwanted and alone.
To them, I was no longer the nameless outsider.
They only knew I came from one of the largest packs—Silvermist—and that I was a skilled trainer, a leader who had built something from nothing.
Using the allowance my father had once begrudgingly given me, I built a cub training center here, in this small but lively pack.
The center quickly became a beacon of light for the young pups—bright-eyed cubs who greeted each day with innocent smiles and boundless energy. Their laughter echoed through the halls, their enthusiasm contagious.
For the first time in years, I felt something I thought was lost to me forever—belonging.
Here, in this simple space filled with joy and hope, I wanted to stay. I wanted to settle down.
A week after arriving, I sent a final message to Drew.
I ended things with him, clean and decisive.
After that, I stopped looking at any messages from anyone.
Every morning, I threw myself into training with the cubs—teaching them to be strong, confident, and proud.
Day by day, the memories of Silvermist faded into the background.
Not just the pack itself—but my parents, Jake, even Drew.
I had moved on.
And in moving on, I discovered something vital: even without them, there were people in this world who cared for me, who loved me without conditions or expectations.
I didn't have to beg for scraps of affection anymore.
Then, one day, he appeared—Peter.
The moment I saw him, something deep inside me stirred—a fierce, undeniable pull of the wolf within.
We didn't know each other long, but the connection was instant, effortless.
Where I had once felt like an outsider, with Peter, I felt seen.
Three years passed like a dream.
I was happy, truly happy, with my little pack and with Peter.
I believed I could stay here forever, far away from the Silvermist Pack and the ghosts of my past.
But fate had other plans.
Peter's parents came looking for us.
It was then I learned the truth that shattered my fragile peace.
Peter was the Alpha of the Silvermist Pack.
And he had planned a grand marking ceremony for me—back at my old home.
I hadn't intended to return, not after everything.
I was sure I'd never want to see Drew again.
But when I turned on my phone, my screen flooded with messages.
The most recent was from Drew's mother, Carmen.
Her words were desperate and pleading.
During a brutal pack battle, Drew's wolf had suffered a grave injury—so severe he had lost the ability to shift.
She begged me—just once, she said—to come see him.
I sat frozen, the message sinking deep into my chest like an ice-cold dagger.
Peter noticed my silence and gently asked what was wrong.
The weight of obligation, compassion, and something unresolved pressed on me.
I knew I had to go back.
Returning to the Silvermist Pack was like stepping into a different world—one I thought I'd left behind forever.
The first person I contacted was Carmen.
She led me to the healer's cabin, where Drew lay weak and pale.
Since the day I left, he had never stopped searching for me.
When he couldn't find me anywhere in the pack, Drew volunteered for dangerous missions far from home, hoping to track me down.
But during one fierce battle, a silver dagger pierced his abdomen.
The poison spread quickly.
By the time his patrol brought him back, Drew had permanently lost his ability to shift.
His wolf was trapped, silent, helpless inside him.
When Drew saw me, the dullness that had clouded his eyes faded, replaced by a fragile flicker of hope.
He tried to sit up, but the pain was immediate and fierce.
A needle in his arm swelled, straining under his effort.
Carmen rushed to call the healer, who handed him a bitter potion to drink.
Through it all, Drew didn't take his eyes off me—not once.
I knew what he wanted to ask but couldn't.
Was I going to leave again?
Carmen's pleading eyes urged me silently to stay, to forgive.
I shook my head gently, voice soft but firm.
"If you have something to say, wait until you're better."
Drew nodded obediently, his face lighting up with a tentative joy.
For the first time in a long while, I dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, this fractured family could begin to heal.