Chapter 9
After the disputes were completely resolved, I was finally able to live the life I had always wanted.
Lawrence and I didn’t actually get married. That magnificent wedding was simply a facade to deal with external pressure, ensuring that Brian and Nora wouldn’t continue to bother us.
Marriage, for me, had always been more of a constraint than a source of freedom. I didn’t want to tie Lawrence’s future to mine, even though I knew how deeply he cared for me.
We remained friends. Though he frequently visited me, always with a warm smile and concerned eyes, I knew that our relationship would never develop into the kind of love we once had.
I no longer yearned for the past version of myself, the girl who had lost herself in Brian’s arms.
I returned to the Weller family home to live with my only family member, my younger brother Ross. Since our parents had passed, I had shouldered the responsibility of taking care of him and protecting him. Though Ross was now growing into his adult wolf form, there was still a part of me that saw him as the little boy who needed my guidance.
We shared an unspoken bond, a mutual understanding. We could communicate without mindlink–through a shared glance, a shift in posture. He would often join me on runs in the woods, and despite his growing strength, I still acted as his protector in some ways. We would run side by side, our wolves moving in sync, as if the world outside the forest didn’t matter at all.
Lawrence occasionally came to visit, bringing small gifts or news from the outside world. He would join us, as Ross and I ran through the trees, his concern for me evident. I could feel his feelings growing more complicated, but I knew in my heart that this relationship was something fleeting, a chapter that was closing.
I found that I needed to embrace my own instincts, my wolf nature, more fully. When I wasn’t running through the forest, I found myself reaching for a pen, writing down my thoughts and emotions. It started as a way to channel the restlessness inside me–words offering an escape, a release for the pent–up feelings I carried.
One evening, I sat by the window, watching the stars twinkle as the evening deepened into night. The cool wind outside stirred the trees, and I could hear the distant howls of wolves echoing through the woods. Ross had just returned from his own run, his presence outside the window comforting in its quiet strength. I picked up my notebook and began writing, trying to capture the essence of the night.
21:33
After being rejected for the third time, I mated with ply
Chapter 9
At first, it was just a means of distraction, but over time, I found that writing became my refuge. My emotions, once tangled in grief and confusion, started to take shape on the pages. I poured my heart into my stories, exploring the pain, the loss, and the moments of pence that had begun to creep back
into my life.
Writing became my way of sorting through the chaos inside me. It was my outlet, my way of staying connected to something deeper. What began as a way to
heal soon evolved into something more–something that gave me purpose and joy.
I began writing more frequently–stories, reflections, and even some of the memories of my past. It was no longer just a hobby. It had become my way of understanding myself, of giving voice to the wildness inside me, the part of me that had been shaped by my wolf nature.
One afternoon, after much hesitation, I submitted a short story to a local publication. To my surprise, they accepted it and offered to publish it. That moment marked the beginning of something new–something that was entirely mine. Writing had become a new form of freedom for me, separate from everything else. It was an identity I could claim, built from the quiet moments and the strength I had learned to embrace.
But despite all the progress, the dreams of the past never fully faded. Every night, when I closed my eyes, the memories would resurface–the loss of my parents, the helplessness I had felt. I could still hear the sound of the gunshot, see the destruction that had torn my world apart.
What’s more, beyond all this, the date of The Hunt is drawing nearer.
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