Chapter 7: Step foward

From the deep recession of my mind, something calls me back. It isn’t gentle. It isn’t a whisper in the dark or a slow unraveling of awareness. It is a sharp, unrelenting pull, dragging me up from the depths where I have hidden. My wolf stirs before I do. She has been in control for so long, too long, guarding me from my own grief. She does not want to let go.I feel the hesitation in my limbs as I wake, the reluctance in the way my mind claws at the edges of consciousness. The world outside my den has moved on, yet I have remained frozen. Suspended in sorrow, in heartbreak, in a bond that no longer has an anchor. I inhale deeply, the scent of damp earth, tree bark, and old memories filling my lungs. It is grounding, familiar, but today it does not soothe me. For the first time in weeks, I feel the weight of it all pressing against my chest, forcing me forward.I stir, my ears flicking at the distant sounds of the forest. My paws flex against the cool, damp ground of the den, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I shift my weight. Slowly, painfully, I move. --- The den has always been my sanctuary. It sits nestled beside my family’s house, hidden beneath the roots of a massive old tree, part underground, part woven into the earth itself. A place built for quiet moments. A place where I have always felt safe.It was Mum’s sanctuary too. She and I used to shift and hide away here together, curled up in the dark, letting the world pass us by. When the sun was too bright, when the weight of expectations felt too much, this was where we retreated. She would wrap her tail around me, her warmth surrounding me, shielding me from everything outside.When the world felt too big, when the sun was too bright, when we just needed a place to breathe. She would curl around me in her wolf form, letting me rest against her warmth, whispering stories about the Moon Goddess, the mate bond, the love that was destined. Dad once told me that she slept here often when she was pregnant with me. That in the quiet moments, when the world felt too heavy, she would shift into her wolf form and rest here, hidden, waiting. Now, I wonder if she ever felt this way.Like her soul had been torn apart.Like she was missing something she could never get back. I wonder if she ever feared that her mate would leave her too. I laugh at that, ridiculous my dad saw her and refused to let her go, I’m told when they just met, she went into heat and with my dad there it was suicide for unmated wolves to come close. It lasted two weeks, I’m pretty sure I was conceived then. I think with a smile. That the bond was not as unbreakable as we had been taught. In my case anyway.The thought makes my stomach twist, my breath hitch. I shake it off before it can pull me back under. --- The den’s entrance is only a few steps away, but those steps feel impossibly long.Sunlight spills through the opening, too bright, too sharp.I hesitate, my instincts urging me to stay hidden, stay safe. But I can’t. With a deep breath, I force my legs forward, stepping into the light.The brightness stings, my eyes squinting as I adjust. My fur bristles at the sudden warmth. I have never liked the sun much. I used to press my nose into my mother’s side, whining about how it was too much, too harsh, too real. She would nuzzle me and whisper, "Then we’ll stay in the shade a little longer." But there is no shade left for me to hide in now.I shake out my fur and start toward the house. --- The small wooden home stands just as it always has. Sturdy, quiet, unassuming. A house built for a man who gave up being Alpha to choose love instead.I step up onto the porch, my paws pressing against the worn wooden boards. My wolf hesitates. But I don’t.With a deep breath, I shift.Pain ripples through me, sharp and grounding. My muscles tighten, bones reshaping, my body shrinking into human form. By the time the shift is complete, I am breathless, shaking. My human limbs feel weak, unsteady. The cool air brushes against my bare skin, and I shiver, feeling small in a way I haven’t in weeks. I push the door open and step inside. The house smells the same—aged wood, faint traces of herbs, and the comforting scent of my father.Everything looks the same too. But I feel different.I don’t belong here the way I used to, making way to my room, my bare feet silent against the wooden floor. The bed is unmade. My clothes are still folded neatly in the wooden chest. The small rug my mother picked out still sits in the center of the room. Everything is exactly as I left it. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, taking in the sight of myself for the first time in weeks. My wolf form has been my shield, my escape. I have not seen my human self in so long that I almost don’t recognize the woman staring back at me. I don’t look broken. But I feel it. The shower is the first real comfort I have felt in weeks,the water is too hot at first, but I don’t turn it down, standing under the stream, letting it cascade over me, washing away the dirt, the stiffness, the weight of too many days spent disconnected from myself. For a brief moment, I let myself pretend. Pretend that the water is washing away everything else too. * The smell of coffee pulls me toward the kitchen, and I find my father there, leaning against the counter.Even now, he is imposing, strong, unshaken,but I see it in his eyes. The weight pressing down on him,the exhaustion,the slow unraveling of a man who is barely holding on. Most wolves follow their mates in death. The bond does not break cleanly. It lingers, weakens them, steals them piece by piece. But my father is still here. For me. I swallow hard, the lump in my throat thick and unmovable. "Hello, snowball," he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep. Before I can say anything, he pulls me into a hug, pressing a kiss to my temple, without hesitation I sink into his embrace, feeling warmth for the first time in so long that it almost hurts. "I’m sorry," I whisper, my voice breaking. "I was—" "Sshhh, that’s okay." He doesn’t let me finish.He just holds me tighter. For the first time in weeks, I let him. "Gag." The exaggerated sound of disgust makes me freeze. I blink, turning toward the doorway, and there he is.Leaning against the frame, arms crossed, smirking like he owns the place. "Wolves and their overt displays of affection," he sighs dramatically. For a second, I can’t move. And then— "RONAN!" I launch at him, tackling him to the ground, laughing for the first time in forever and for the first time since my mate left, I feel like I might be okay.