Chapter 8 — Leaving

Regina POV

The days that followed blurred together like rain on glass.

Regina remembered fragments — hushed voices drifting through hallways, the low murmur of strategy meetings behind closed doors, the constant tension that clung to the estate like a second skin. Wolves moved with purpose, their scents edged with determination and worry, every step carrying the weight of a pack searching for one of their own.

Rebecca’s absence hung over everything.

It was a hollow space that no amount of activity could fill.

Regina stayed mostly in the guest suite, venturing out only when Mara insisted she eat or when her father came to sit with her in quiet companionship. The bruises on her wrists faded slowly from angry red to pale yellow, but the memory of rope biting into skin lingered long after the marks softened.

At night, sleep came in restless fragments.

She would drift off only to wake with her heart racing, the phantom sensation of cold stone beneath her cheek and the echo of dripping water in her ears. Sometimes she thought she could still hear the masked figure’s voice, soft and mocking, curling through her dreams.

Those nights she would sit by the window until dawn, watching the forest breathe beneath the moonlight, trying to remind herself she was safe.

But safety felt fragile now — something that could shatter without warning.

Her wolf had changed too.

It was quieter, more watchful, pacing just beneath her skin as if waiting for danger to return. Sometimes she caught herself listening for sounds no one else seemed to hear, scanning shadows that had never bothered her before.

Trauma, Mara called it gently.

Regina called it survival.

One afternoon, nearly a week after her rescue, she found herself wandering the estate grounds, drawn outside by the crisp scent of autumn settling into the forest. Leaves had begun to turn, flashes of gold and crimson catching sunlight as they drifted down.

The world looked too beautiful to match the heaviness in her chest.

She walked slowly along the edge of the training field, boots crunching softly on gravel. A few wolves sparred in the distance, their movements sharp and controlled, but the usual laughter that often accompanied training was absent.

Everything felt muted.

Regina wrapped her arms around herself, breathing in the cool air.

She’d overheard enough conversations to know they still had no leads. No scent trail. No sign of Rebecca anywhere beyond the broken window and the faint, washed-out trace of something unnatural.

Every time she thought about it, guilt tightened like a vise around her ribs.

A familiar scent reached her — smoke, forest, winter air.

Regina turned.

Aldric stood at the edge of the field, watching the sparring wolves with a stillness that spoke of deep focus. He looked tired in a way that had nothing to do with lack of sleep — tension etched into the lines of his posture, shoulders held too rigid, jaw tight.

When he sensed her gaze, he turned.

For a moment, their eyes met across the distance.

Something flickered between them — recognition, quiet understanding — before Regina looked away, unsure what to do with the sudden warmth that stirred in her chest.

He approached slowly, stopping a few feet away, giving her space.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

The question was simple, but the genuine concern in his voice made her throat tighten.

“Better,” she said softly. “Physically.”

He nodded, as if he understood the unspoken part.

They stood in silence for a moment, the sounds of sparring drifting faintly through the air.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” she said finally.

The words felt heavier once spoken aloud.

Aldric’s gaze sharpened slightly. “Back to Crimson Hollow?”

She nodded. “I think… I think I need to be home.”

That wasn’t entirely true.

Home didn’t feel like a place anymore so much as an idea she was trying to remember.

But she couldn’t stay here, surrounded by memories of the cave, of Rebecca’s empty room, of the guilt that seemed to linger in every hallway.

Aldric studied her quietly, as if weighing something.

“If that’s what you need,” he said.

She appreciated that he didn’t try to convince her otherwise.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, the words slipping out before she could stop them. “About Rebecca.”

His expression tightened, pain flickering briefly across his features before he smoothed it away.

“We’ll find her,” he said, though the certainty in his voice carried a hint of strain now.

Regina nodded, wishing she could believe it as fully as she wanted to.

“I know you will.”

A breeze stirred her hair, carrying the scent of fallen leaves between them. For a moment, the world felt strangely still — like the quiet pause between heartbeats.

“Thank you,” she added softly. “For finding me.”

His gaze held hers, steady and warm despite the storm beneath it. “You don’t have to thank me.”

But she did.

Because when she thought back to the cave — to the fear and the darkness — the moment he stepped into the light felt like the difference between drowning and breathing again.

“I’ll never forget it,” she said.

Something shifted in his expression, something softer, though he didn’t speak.

They stood there a moment longer before Regina stepped back slightly, breaking the fragile stillness.

“I should go help my father pack,” she said.

Aldric inclined his head once. “Safe travels, Regina.”

The way he said her name — low and steady — made a faint warmth spread through her chest again.

She turned and walked away, resisting the urge to look back.

—

The next morning dawned clear and cold, sunlight spilling across the estate grounds as Regina stood beside her father near the waiting SUV.

Her suitcase sat at her feet, packed with more care than she felt.

Darius stood a short distance away, speaking quietly with Aldric, both men radiating controlled intensity. Even from here, Regina could feel the weight of responsibility pressing down on them — leaders carrying the fear of an entire pack.

Her father rested a hand on her shoulder. “Ready?”

Regina nodded, though a knot tightened in her stomach.

She glanced toward Aldric one last time.

As if sensing her gaze, he looked over.

For a brief moment, the world seemed to narrow — just the two of them standing in morning light, the memory of a cave and a rescue lingering between them like an unspoken bond.

He gave a small nod.

She returned it.

Then she turned and climbed into the car.

As the estate faded behind them, Regina pressed her forehead lightly against the cool window glass, watching the forest blur past.

She thought leaving would feel like relief.

Instead, it felt like stepping away from something unfinished.

Like a door closing before she’d had a chance to understand what lay behind it.

She didn’t know yet that the events of this night would shape every choice she made for years to come.

Didn’t know that the quiet life she planned to build would be haunted by echoes she couldn’t outrun.

Didn’t know that one day she would return — stronger, older, and forever changed.

But as the trees swallowed the last glimpse of Silver Ridge, she felt something settle deep inside her.

A fracture.

Invisible.

Permanent.

And though she couldn’t name it yet…

It would one day lead her back.

⸻