Chapter 3

A new beginning

Rieka's Pov

But I’ve gotten Feisty

Ignoring the murmurs cajoling me to let go, and hands reaching out to stop me. I shoved through the crowd, my elbows jabbing anyone in my way. My heart pounded as I sprinted after the thief, determination coursing through my veins. That bag held everything I owned—all my valuables. If I lost it, I'd lose the last remnants of dignity and survival in this new place.

“You can’t go after him, child! He’s a professional thief,” someone called out. The pity in his voice only fueled my resolve.

I pushed harder, weaving through narrow streets and ignoring the burning in my legs. I couldn’t give up. Not now. Not when I had nothing else. The thief darted around a corner, his silhouette flickering in the dim light of setting sun, but as I rounded the last bend, my stomach sank. The street was empty. The thief was gone, along with my belongings.

I stumbled to a halt, staring blankly at the empty alley. My chest heaved as despair threatened to consume me. What now?

“Oh, dear child, such a shameful thing to happen,” a soft voice broke through the haze.

I turned to see the aged woman watching me, her eyes full of sympathy. Her presence stirred something in me, and tears welled up despite my efforts to hold them back.

“Cry all you want, child,” she said, her voice soothing. "Let it out. It's better that way."

I didn’t need any more encouragement. I stepped forward and collapsed into her embrace, sobbing loudly. The weight of everything—the pain of my rebirth, being unwanted, wolfless, without an identity, without love—it all spilled out.

Her wrinkled hands rubbed my back as I let it all go.

“Feeling better now?” a man’s voice interrupted softly.

Startled, I pulled away and wiped my face, turning to see a tall, blonde-haired man with sparkling green eyes and a warm smile. He looked at me and the old woman with an amused tilt to his head.

“That’s my grandson, Phillips,” the woman said, her tone light. “He came to pick me up instead of his father.”

Phillips grinned, stepping closer to hug her. “Welcome to Bournes Village, Grandma Lily. And you too…” His voice trailed off expectantly.

“Rieka,” I said, brushing the dust from my skirt and trying to compose myself.

“It’s normal to cry, you know,” Phillips said, his smile deepening. “You don’t need to hide it.”

The casual remark made me chuckle despite myself, and the aged woman, Grandma Lily joined in with a kind laugh, her fingers brushing my hair.

After a little more chatter, Phillips turned to me again. “We’re heading to the bakery. It’s close by, and I’m sure my dad would be glad to meet you. Would you like to come?”

I hesitated, but reality hit hard. I had nothing—no money, no place to go. Reluctantly, I nodded.

“Sure.”

One Month Later

“Rieka! Customers are asking for the fresh loaves. Can you grab them from the pantry?” he asked, in a pleading tone. I nodded, and with an increased step I went inside the bakery.

The smell of freshly baked bread filled the bakery, warm and inviting. I hurried from the back room with a tray of steaming loaves balanced in my hands. The weight pressed against my arms, but I didn’t mind.

I placed the tray on the counter just as Phillips began packaging the loaves. His movements were quick but careful, hands deftly wrapping each one in crisp brown paper.

"What a sight!" One customer said with a grin. “Fresh golden loaves delivered by such a beautiful young lady. What more could I ask for?”

I kept my face neutral, ignoring him as I set the tray down for Phillips to package. Together, we worked swiftly, handing out warm bread and ringing up sales. By the time the last customer left, we both collapsed into chairs, panting.

“Thanks for helping out,” Phillips said, running a hand through his now messy blonde hair. “I don’t know how I’d have managed this morning without you.”

I laughed softly, dabbing sweat from my face. “This is my job, remember?”

His smile lingered as he looked at me, but I was already lost in my thoughts. But my gaze darted out of the window, my thoughts drifting. It had been a month since I arrived in Bournes. Thanks to Grandma Lily and her family, I had found a place to belong—working in the bakery, renting a small cottage, and slowly rebuilding my life.

For the first time, I felt... settled. The shadows of my past still lingered, but they didn’t loom as large anymore. I was discovering who I was, and for once, I dared to hope this peace would last.

The night was eerily still as I locked up the bakery. The occasional bark of a dog and the chirping of crickets were the only sound accompanying the cool breeze. Phillips hovered behind me, glancing around nervously.

“I should walk you home,” he said, his voice edged with concern as he glanced across the dark street.

I shook my head. “My cottage is just a street away. Nothing to worry about, really. I’ll take the shortcut.”

Phillips frowned. “Rieka, it’s too dangerous. Did you forget what happened the other day? They found a man dead in an alley. People are saying it’s... magicians," his voice dropped to a whisper as he scanned the alley as if waiting for something to pop out.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Magicians? Really?” I placed a reassuring hand on his arm, feeling him tense under my touch. “Magic’s been banned for decades. They’ve all but vanished.”

It wasn’t entirely true. Magic wasn’t extinct. It still existed in whispers and shadows, and the one person above the werewolves wielded it. But Phillips didn’t need to know that.

He sighed, clearly unconvinced but unwilling to argue further. “Just... be careful, okay?”

“I will,” I promised, waving him off as I turned towards the dark alley.

The darkness pressed in as I hurried through the empty streets, my footsteps echoing in the silence. I quickened my pace, eager to reach the safety of my cottage.

Then, I heard a crash above me.

I froze as a figure landed with a thud just a few feet away. My breath caught as I stepped closer, my eyes widening in shock.

A man lay crumpled at my feet. His dishealved hair and bloodied clothes made my stomach churn. But it wasn't just the appearance that startled me.

I knew him. The recognition hit me like a lightening bolt.

It was Ileus Fenrir. The king of the werewolves.

And my husband in my previous life.