Third Person’s PerspectiveFlora had left the Nightshade Pack with nothing. No home, no family, no real plan. All she knew was that she could not stay there anymore. The place carried too much pain, too many memories, too many shadows of Leo.She drove for hours, not even knowing where she was going. She only wanted to be far away. The forest roads passed behind her, then small towns, and then finally, the big human city. The city was busy, full of noise, cars, and bright lights. It was different from the quiet of the pack lands. The air smelled like smoke and food instead of trees. The people moved fast, not caring who she was, not caring if she was broken.At first, Flora felt lost. She had no one. She did not know where she would sleep or how she would live. She spent nights in cheap motels, staring at the ceiling, wondering if she had made a mistake. She was hurt, she was lonely, but one thing she was sure of,she was not going back.On her third day in the city, she met a kind wom
Third Person’s PerspectiveThe room was still dark, still heavy with the thick smell of alcohol. The air carried the bitter scent of old wine mixed with dust and sweat. Bottles covered the floor,some whole, some shattered into sharp pieces that glittered faintly in the dim light. The curtains stayed tightly drawn, shutting out every ray of sunlight. What once had been a proud Alpha’s chamber now looked more like a prison of despair.Leo sat on his bed with another drink in his hand. His shirt hung open, his chest rising and falling slowly. His eyes were swollen and red, his face pale and tired. His hair was tangled, sticking to his damp forehead. But this time, he was not only drunk,he was thinking. His mind, though clouded with alcohol, was restless.The Alpha King’s words echoed in his head again and again. “You are Alpha. Act like it.”He clenched his jaw tightly. He hated that the words made sense. He hated that they were true. He hated that a part of him wanted to listen.But sti
Third Person’s PerspectiveLeo’s room smelled of alcohol. It was not the smell of one bottle but of many,days and nights of spilled liquor that had soaked into the carpet, into the furniture, into the very air. The floor was scattered with bottles, some lying on their side, some shattered, their sharp edges glinting in the dim light. The curtains were drawn tightly, shutting out the warm rays of the sun, turning the room into a gloomy cave where time seemed frozen. The air was heavy, thick, and stale, like a place where hope had long died and rot had taken its place.Leo sat slouched on the edge of his bed. His shirt hung loosely, half-buttoned, stained with drink. His hair was untidy, falling over his forehead in an unkempt mess. His eyes were bloodshot and ringed with dark circles, proof of too many sleepless nights. A glass rested loosely in his hand, though most of its contents had already spilled onto the rug below, leaving dark patches on the fabric. His head swayed slightly, as
Third Person’s PerspectiveThe house felt empty.It had only been one night since Flora left, but to Leo, it felt like years had already passed. The silence inside the house pressed heavily against his chest. Every corner reminded him of her. Every breath of air carried her ghost.Everywhere he looked, he saw her face. The pillow where she once slept still carried the faint smell of her hair, soft and sweet, the scent that used to calm him at night. The chair by the window, where she used to sit quietly, looked unbearably lonely now, as if it too missed her presence. Even the walls seemed to echo her absence. The home that had once been full of her voice, her laughter, and even her quiet sobs now felt dead, as if it had lost its soul.Leo sat on the floor in his room, his back leaning against the bed, his eyes staring blankly at nothing. His clothes were still the same from the day before. Wrinkled, stained, uncared for. His hair was messy, and his jaw rough with stubble, a clear sign
Third Person’s PerspectiveThe morning air was soft and cool, carrying a gentle breeze that moved the leaves on the tall trees. The sun was not too hot, only warm enough to touch the skin in a kind way, and the sky was a light blue with small white clouds drifting slowly as if they had no worries at all. Birds flew across, their wings gliding easily in the open space. It was a peaceful day, the kind of day that once upon a time Flora would have enjoyed without fear or heavy thoughts.It had been weeks since Leo broke the cursed bracelet. Weeks since the dark magic that haunted her was destroyed. Weeks since she stopped seeing shadows that were not there, and weeks since the whispers that once chased her in her sleep faded from her ears.Now, at last, her mind felt clearer. Her sleep was no longer broken by screams or fear. Her dreams were normal, soft, sometimes even sweet. Her heart, which once felt like it was being crushed under a heavy stone, was calmer now. She even found herself
Third Person’s PerspectiveWhen Leo left Flora in the hospital bed that night, she was still asleep. For the first time in a long while, her face looked calm. The lines of fear that had stayed on her forehead were gone. Her lips were soft, no longer trembling with words of fear.The sedative in her body pulled her into a deep sleep, but it was not the drug alone that gave her peace. The bracelet was gone. The cursed silver that had chained her to nightmares had been broken. And because of that, the voices and the shadows that had tormented her every night finally went quiet.For the first time in weeks, maybe even months, Flora slept without seeing darkness chasing her. She slept without hearing whispers calling her name. She slept without waking up in terror.The next morning, when she opened her eyes, she felt strange. For a moment, she thought she was still inside one of her dreams. The hospital ceiling looked too white, too clear. Usually, she would see shadows moving across it, t