Chapter 2

Julian got home close to midnight.

I was in bed, pretending to be asleep. I heard him tiptoe onto the balcony.

"Elodie? Still awake?" His voice was so gentle it made me want to throw up.

I had never, not once, heard him use that tone with me.

"I know you weren't feeling well today," he cooed into the phone. "I'll take you to the doctor tomorrow, okay?"

I could hear Elodie's delicate sobs through the phone.

"Don't cry, baby. I'll be with you soon. My wolf aches for you..."

I closed my eyes, a bitter smile on my face.

I guess I've been sleeping too soundly. I've missed all his late-night confessions.

At six the next morning, Julian was already up and rushing around.

He was packing in a panic, avoiding my gaze.

"Vesper, I... I have to get to the lab early," he stammered.

I sat up. "Okay."

He froze, surprised by how calm I was.

He pulled a file from the nightstand drawer and put it in front of me.

"These are the pack transfer forms," he said, clearing his throat. "You just need to drop them off at the High Council office."

I picked up the file and flipped through it.

Only my name was on it.

"Where's yours?" I asked.

"I already submitted it," he said, looking away. "Just sign it and get it filed. Don't hold up the process."

Don't hold up the process.

As if I was the one dragging my feet.

"I'll take care of it," I said calmly.

Julian let out a breath of relief and hurried out the door.

I sat on the bed, staring at the application form with only my name.

Destination: Crimson Peak Territory.

I tore that page out and filled out a new one.

Destination: Silver Crest Pack.

At nine, I arrived at the High Council office. It wasn't crowded.

I got to the third window. The woman behind the counter looked to be in her sixties, wearing reading glasses and carefully reviewing documents.

"Returning to Silver Crest?" she asked, looking at my application. "It's rare to see anyone leave the Neutral Territory for one of the traditional home packs."

"Yes," I nodded. "I want to go home."

She looked up at me, a flash of warmth in her eyes.

"I've worked this desk for thirty years," the old woman said wistfully. "I barely see a handful of wolves a year like you anymore... ones who leave the glamour of the Neutral Zones to go home and heal their own."

Her eyes were a little red.

"Child, it's good to go home. Your heart is where your roots are."

My nose started to sting.

I thought of my grandmother, my mentor, all the elders I hadn't seen in over a decade.

Their graves were all at the foot of the green mountains in Silver Crest.

I hadn't been back to pay my respects in ten years.

"This year, I have to go back," my voice cracked. "With everything I've learned."

The old woman nodded, picking up a wax seal stamp.

"It's never too late to go home."

The red wax dripped onto the document, leaving the Silver Crest insignia.

In that moment, I felt something light up inside me, like a broken piece of my faith had been mended.

That night, Julian came home late again.

This time, he brought a beautiful gift box.

"Vesper, this is for you," he said, looking guilty.

I opened it. Inside was a scalpel.

Platinum, with the insignia of the St. Rose Medical Academy engraved on the handle.

My fingers traced the crest.

"Do you like it?" Julian asked, his eyes full of expectation. "I know you've always wanted a good scalpel."

My mind flashed back five years.

I had just gotten a two-year exchange scholarship to St. Rose.

A full ride. A chance to study under the world's top neuro-surgeons.

I was so excited I couldn't sleep, already planning the neuro-surgery center I would build back in Silver Crest.

But a month before I was supposed to leave, Julian's wolf had a sudden "episode."

He said his rut was coming on, that he needed me to soothe him.

He cried, holding me, begging me not to go.

My heart softened. I suppressed my own wolf's desire to leave.

I canceled my trip to St. Rose and stayed with him.

A month later, I saw Elodie post photos of her flight to St. Rose.

The scholarship had gone to her.

Julian's "uncontrollable rut" had been an act.

He had used our bond to pave the way for her.

"Vesper?" Julian's voice pulled me back. "Why aren't you saying anything?"

I looked at the scalpel in my hand.

Exquisite. Expensive. Perfect.

But for me, it wasn't a gift.

"It's beautiful," I said flatly. "Thank you."

Julian relaxed. "I knew you'd like it. We'll finish the last of the paperwork tomorrow. We'll be in Crimson Peak before you know it."

I didn't answer.

I just placed the scalpel back in its box.

He didn't know. That scalpel wasn't a gift. It was a reminder of the piece of my heart he'd carved out years ago.