Chapter 2

After returning to my quarters, I hastily tended to my wounds. The pain from my injuries sharpened my mind, so I wasted no time and dialed the number that had been lingering in my head all this time.

Before making the call, I was worried that Dad might refuse to answer or chew me out the moment he picked up. Yet, after a single ring, the call connected, almost as if the wolf on the other end had been waiting by the phone the whole time.

"Willow." Dad's familiar, weathered voice came through the speaker.

My throat tightened instantly. All the explanations and apologies I had prepared became lodged in my chest.

I wanted to tell him I was wrong, that I shouldn't have left for the sake of love. I wanted to tell him that I hadn't been doing well and that I finally understood why he had opposed me back then.

But in the end, I couldn't utter a single word. I merely clutched my phone and burst into tears.

Dad sighed softly. "Dry your tears, Will. If you've been hurt, come home."

The words "come home" brought tears to my eyes once again.

"Dad…" I choked out.

Dad, however, acted as if nothing had ever happened and responded, "I've already dispatched a convoy. They'll arrive at the Zephyr pack in three days to bring you home."

My birthday was three days from now. I recalled Curtis' promise from earlier. "Your birthday is in three days. I'll propose to you then."

This time, though, I no longer believed him. After falling for his pranks three times in a row, I was convinced that this promise couldn't be real either. Even if it was, I no longer intended to marry him.

After hanging up, I started packing my belongings. To be honest, I didn't have much to pack.

After all these years in the Zephyr pack, I had come to think of this place as my home. Yet, there was so little I could actually call mine.

I only had a few pieces of clothing, a few accessories, and some memories I had made with Curtis. I packed everything away, one item at a time, preparing to leave the Zephyr pack for good.

Just then, Curtis mindlinked me. His voice was urgent and frantic. "Get over here right now! My wolf's out of control. I can't hold him back!"

Even though I had already decided to leave and knew I shouldn't care about him anymore, I couldn't help but worry when I heard that his wolf was out of control.

Curtis had once been injured during a hunt, leaving his wolf in a weakened state. I had stayed by his side for three whole days back then. To calm his wolf, I had continuously used my own power to soothe it until I was too weak to stand.

However, when I rushed to his place, I discovered that he wasn't the one who had lost control.

Ciara was curled up in a corner, the shadow of her wolf flickering behind her. It was obvious she hadn't fully adapted to her wolf form.

When Curtis spotted me, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Ciara's shifted. Hurry over and soothe her."

I stood rooted to the spot and made no move to step forward.

He softened his tone. "Ciara just returned from the North, so she's unfamiliar with her surroundings. Her wolf feels insecure, which is why she lost control. Your wolf is more stable, and you're much better at controlling your wolf form. Why don't you just soothe her a little?"

I fell silent for a moment before lightly shaking my head. "You should find a healer instead of asking me to soothe her."

With that, I turned and headed to my room. I wanted to gather the rest of my belongings at his place.

Curtis chased after me, blocking my path. "Don't be difficult at a time like this, Willow. You've always been good at soothing wolves. We don't need to call a healer."

I wanted to tell him that ever since I had overextended myself last time, I had often felt a dull ache in my lower abdomen. I wanted to tell him that after running for my life yesterday, my wolf was already utterly exhausted.

However, I said nothing. I merely pushed him aside firmly and opened the door to my room. The very next second, I froze in place.

Everything inside had been replaced. My bedding was now a color I didn't recognize, and not a single item in the wardrobe belonged to me.

My room had become someone else's.