04

The car slowed as we approached a familiar clearing. My chest tightened as the surroundings came into focus. Every tree, every rock seemed to whisper memories I had spent years trying to bury. I clenched my fists in my lap, willing myself not to panic, not to show any weakness in front of Kian.

He parked the car and stepped out first, his movements deliberate and calm, as though he wasn’t dragging me back to the last place I ever wanted to see.

I hesitated. My legs felt heavy, almost as if my body itself was resisting. But the door opened, and Kian’s hand extended toward me, his golden eyes fixed on mine.

“I can walk on my own,” I snapped, shoving his hand away as I stepped out of the car.

The night air was colder here, sharp and biting, carrying the scents of the forest. The house in front of me loomed larger than I remembered. The pack house. Lights glowed warmly in the windows, but the sight made my stomach churn.

“You didn’t need to bring me here,” I muttered, my voice low but steady.

“Yes, I did.” His voice was equally calm, but there was a weight to it, as if he was holding back a thousand things he wanted to say.

Kian motioned for me to follow, and I reluctantly trailed behind him, my every step feeling heavier as we approached the entrance.

The front door opened before we reached it. Several wolves stood waiting, their expressions ranging from curiosity to outright suspicion. Their eyes flicked between Kian and me, and I felt the familiar weight of judgment pressing down on me.

But then, I saw him.

Alpha Marcus.

He was sitting in a wheelchair, his once-powerful frame now frail and hunched. His face, pale and lined with age, still held an air of authority, though his eyes softened when they met mine.

“Amara,” he said, his voice weak but filled with unmistakable warmth.

I stopped in my tracks, my breath catching in my throat. Seeing him like this—so diminished, so vulnerable—made it impossible to hold on to my anger. Whatever resentment I had toward Kian couldn’t extend to Marcus. He had never treated me as less than anyone else.

“Alpha,” I said quietly, stepping closer.

He raised a trembling hand, gesturing for me to come closer still. “No need for formalities, child. It’s been too long.”

I nodded, swallowing hard as I moved to kneel beside his chair. “You… you look—”

“Terrible,” he interrupted with a faint chuckle. “I know.”

My lips twitched into a small smile despite myself. Marcus always had a way of disarming me, even now.

Kian stepped forward, standing close enough that I could feel his presence behind me. “She’s here to help, Father.”

I stiffened at his words. “I didn’t agree to anything.”

Marcus waved a hand weakly. “Let’s not start with arguments. Amara, I know it’s a lot to ask, but I wouldn’t have let him bring you here if it weren’t important.”

His sincerity was palpable, and it chipped away at the walls I had spent years building. I glanced back at Kian, who was watching me closely, his expression unreadable.

“I’ll take a look,” I said reluctantly, turning back to Marcus. “But I’m not staying.”

Marcus nodded, his smile faint but genuine. “That’s all I can ask for.”

The pack house was quieter than I remembered, the usual hum of activity replaced by a solemn stillness. I sat in Marcus’s room, reviewing his medical records and assessing his condition.

It was worse than I expected. His illness had progressed far, and while I could help manage his symptoms, I wasn’t sure how much time he had left.

“You’ve changed,” Marcus said suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, but there was a knowing edge to it.

I glanced up from the notes. “It’s been years. People change.”

He smiled faintly. “Not just on the outside. You carry yourself differently now. Stronger. More sure of who you are.”

I didn’t respond immediately, unsure of how to take his observation. Finally, I shrugged. “I had to be.”

Marcus nodded, his gaze steady. “And Kian? Has he changed?”

My heart skipped a beat at the question. I focused on the papers in front of me, avoiding his eyes. “That’s not for me to say.”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I know my son has made mistakes. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that mistakes don’t define us. What we do to fix them does.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. The silence stretched between us until Marcus’s breathing grew heavier, and I gently urged him to rest.

I stepped out of Marcus’s room and nearly collided with Kian, who was leaning against the wall just outside. His eyes searched mine, and for a moment, neither of us spoke.

“How is he?” Kian asked finally, his voice quieter than I expected.

“He’s not well,” I admitted. “He needs proper care, rest, and support. But… I can’t promise anything.”

“I didn’t bring you here for promises,” he said softly. “Just… to try.”

The vulnerability in his tone caught me off guard. This wasn’t the Kian I remembered—the confident, unshakable Alpha who always had the answers. This was someone else entirely.

“You should have told me sooner,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended.

His jaw tightened. “Would you have come?”

I didn’t answer, because we both knew the truth.

Instead, I turned to leave, needing distance from him, from everything. But before I could take another step, his voice stopped me.

“Amara.”

I turned halfway, not meeting his eyes.

“Thank you,” he said, the sincerity in his voice catching me off guard.

I didn’t reply. I simply walked away, my mind a storm of emotions I wasn’t ready to face.

That night, as I lay in the unfamiliar bed they had prepared for me, I couldn’t sleep. My mind kept circling back to Marcus, to Kian, to the pack I had left behind.

Being here felt like stepping into a past I had long since buried, but now it was clawing its way back to the surface.