02

Running away was the hardest decision I ever made. Leaving meant abandoning everything I knew, everything I loved. My family, my pack, my home. But above all, it meant saying goodbye to my parents, who, despite their differences with me, had always been my foundation.

The last night in the territory was silent, the kind of heavy silence that comes before a storm. My parents sat at the worn wooden table, saying nothing as I packed my things. But when I finished, my father was the first to speak.

“Are you sure about this, Ayla?” he asked, crossing his arms, his expression serious. “Running away won’t be easy. The human world can be even crueler than ours.”

I swallowed hard, trying to appear stronger than I felt. “I don’t have a choice. If I stay, Kael will find out… and I can’t let that happen.”

My mother, always the more emotional one, had tears in her eyes. “Can’t you fight this, dear? He’s your fated mate. Maybe he…”

“He rejected me, Mom,” I interrupted, my voice trembling. “And even if he hadn’t, he would never accept these children. I have to leave. For them.”

My mother stood and pulled me into a tight embrace. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself,” she whispered. “And if you ever need help, you’ll find us.”

“I promise,” I replied, though I knew I couldn’t keep that promise. If I contacted them, I’d put everyone in danger.

As I left that night, carrying nothing but a backpack and a fragile determination, I looked back one last time. My parents stood in the doorway, their silhouettes illuminated by the faint glow of the house. My heart broke, but I kept walking. I had to protect my children.

Months later, my new life had finally found its rhythm. The small human town I had settled in was perfect for hiding. Small enough for me to blend in, big enough for me to remain anonymous. Here, I wasn’t a wolf. I wasn’t the rejected mate of an Alpha. I was just Ayla, a dedicated nurse and a mother-to-be.

Working at the hospital gave me more than just a livelihood; it gave me purpose. Every day, I saw the impact my work had on people’s lives. It was a way to reconnect with healing, something I had always done in the pack, but now adapted to the human world.

That night, the emergency room was busy. A violent storm had hit the region, and patients were arriving in waves. Car accidents, cuts, falls. I was too busy to think about the past, which was exactly what I needed.

Around three in the morning, as I finished writing a report, I heard a loud commotion at the entrance. I looked up to see two men rushing in, carrying a third man between them. The patient seemed unconscious, his head lolling to the side as the others struggled to hold him up.

“Please! He needs help!” one of them shouted, panic evident in his voice.

I ran over with a gurney. “Put him here,” I instructed, already assessing the man’s condition. His shoulders were covered in blood, his shirt torn. Something about the scent of the blood was familiar, but I didn’t want to believe it.

“What happened?” I asked, keeping my voice calm as I examined the wounds.

“He was attacked,” one of the men replied, his breath heavy. “By some animal… it looked like a wolf.”

My body tensed, but I continued working. I lifted the patient’s shirt, exposing the injury. My heart stopped.

The bite marks were deep and wide, impossible for a normal wolf. The teeth had sunk into the flesh with frightening precision, and the pattern was far too familiar.

“How long ago did this happen?” I asked, trying to hide the unease in my voice.

“Less than two hours,” the man replied. “We were camping in the mountains when it happened. The animal didn’t seem natural.”

The scent of his blood was strong, but there was something else. Something only a wolf like me could detect. He had been bitten by one of us.

“Are you okay, Ayla?” Margot, the receptionist, asked as she entered the room.

“Yes,” I replied quickly, trying to sound composed. “I’ll need sutures and antibiotics. Can you prepare them?”

She nodded and left, leaving me alone with the patient. As I cleaned the wound, my mind raced. What was a wolf doing so close to the city? And why had this human been attacked?

Before I could come up with answers, the patient’s eyes opened. They were red and bright, as if a high fever had taken hold of him.

“Where am I?” he asked, his voice hoarse and weak.

“You’re in the hospital,” I said softly, trying to keep him calm. “You were attacked, but you’re safe now.”

He looked at me intently, and for a moment, I thought he recognized something about me.

“Ayla…” he murmured, and my breath caught.

“How do you know my name?” I asked, my voice low, almost a whisper.

But he didn’t respond. His eyes closed again, and he fell back into unconsciousness.

I stepped back, my heart racing. This couldn’t be a coincidence. Someone knew where I was. And if they knew, then the danger was closer than I had ever imagined.

Later that night, as the storm raged outside, I sat alone in the hospital’s break room, trying to process what had happened. The scent of the bite, the fact that he knew my name… none of it was an accident.