Chapter 13

Cora's POV

I wake to the sound of laughter.

For a moment, panic jolts through me—sharp and instinctive—my body tensing as my mind scrambles to remember where I am. The ceiling above me is solid. Wooden. There’s no canopy of leaves, no open sky. The air smells clean instead of damp and wild.

Then memory settles.

The Frostbite pack.

The hospital.

Hannah.

Safety.

A soft knock comes at the door. “Cora?” Hannah’s voice follows, warm and bright. “You awake?”

“Yeah,” I answer, pushing myself upright. My body still aches, the kind of ache that lingers after healing too fast, but it’s manageable. Proof that I survived.

The door opens and Hannah peeks in, already dressed,blue jeans and a sweatshirt,her hair up in a bun, full of energy like the day has personally invited her to enjoy it. “Good,” she says. “Because today, you’re officially being shown around.”

She waits while I shower, humming softly from the other side of the door like she’s in no rush at all. The hot water slides over my skin, washing away the dried blood and sweat, the lingering scent of fear that still clings to me no matter how hard I try to forget. I scrub until my hands stop shaking.

When I step out, I notice clothes folded neatly on the counter. Jeans. A crop top. Simple. Clean.

Normal.

I stare at them longer than I should before pulling them on. The girl in the mirror looks unfamiliar—stronger somehow. Still cautious. Still guarded. But standing.

I brush my hair quickly and look around for a hair tie but I don't see one.

When I step out, Hannah’s grin widens. “See? Perfect.”

I tug self-consciously at the hem of the top. “I don’t usually wear things like this.”

“You do now,” she says lightly, looping her arm through mine. “Come on. You’re part of the pack. That means being comfortable.”

"I want to tie my hair up but I can't find -"

"I got you" Hannah interrupts. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out an elastic band "Ta-da" She grins. I laugh as she wiggles her brows. "That was magic baby. Turn around"

I turn and she gathers my hair "You have beautiful full hair Cora"She says and puts my hair up in a bun.

"Thank you. So do you" I reply shyly. She smiles, hooks her arm around mine as we leave the house.

Outside, the Frostbite pack lands stretch before me under the morning sun. Wolves move freely, some in human form, some shifting mid-stride. There’s laughter. Easy conversation. No one watches me like I’m waiting to fail.

Hannah points things out as we walk—the training grounds, the patrol routes, the pack hall. She greets everyone by name, introducing me with no hesitation.

“This is Cora,” she says. “She’s staying with us.”

Not for now.

Not until she leaves.

Staying.

The word settles deep in my chest.

We pass a group of younger wolves laughing near the fields, and Hannah nudges me playfully. “They’re harmless. Mostly.”

I almost smile.

Near the training grounds, two wolves spar before shifting back into human form. One of them turns toward us.

Anton.

Up close, he looks even more solid—calm, grounded, the kind of presence that makes chaos feel manageable. His expression softens when he sees me.

“You’re awake,” he says. “Good.”

I swallow and step forward. “I wanted to thank you. For saving me. Both of you.”

He shrugs, uncomfortable with gratitude. “You don’t owe us anything.”

“Yes,” I say quietly. “I do.”

He studies me for a moment, then nods once. “You’re safe here. That’s what matters.”

Later, when the sun climbs higher, I sit near the treeline watching pack life unfold. It feels strange to exist without constantly bracing myself.

Eric approaches quietly, stopping a few feet away.

“You’ll start training once you’re fully recovered,” he says. “Anton and I will take turns.”

My heart stutters. “You… want to train me?”

“You survived alone in the forest,” he replies evenly. “That takes strength. You just haven’t been taught how to use it.”

No one has ever said that to me.

I nod, afraid my voice will crack if I speak.

The afternoon passes quickly. Hannah insists we go into town, dragging me along before I can protest.

“I don’t need much,” I say weakly as we step into the grocery store.

“Good,” she replies. “Because you’re getting more than much.”

She fills the cart with ease—fresh food, snacks, things I’ve never been allowed to want. I hover awkwardly beside her, guilt twisting in my chest.

“This is too much,” I whisper.

She stops, turns to me, and gently pushes the cart aside. “Cora,” she says softly, “no one is keeping score here.”

Before I can argue, Eric appears behind us. Without a word, he hands Hannah his card.

“Get whatever you want,” he says calmly. “Both of you.”

I freeze. “Eric, I really can’t—”

“You’re not a burden,” he says firmly. “Not here. This is nothing Cora.”

Something inside me breaks—not painfully, but quietly.

After we pay for the groceries, Eric loads them into his car. "Have fun ladies" He waves us off and leaves.

Afterward, Hannah and I wander through town, picking up shoes for me, accessories and toiletries, laughing awkwardly as I try on the shoes. She talks about everything and nothing—her childhood, Eric being overprotective, how lonely it was after he lost his mate.

I listen.

And then, without realizing it, I talk too.

About growing up unseen. About never being chosen. About how it feels to finally breathe without waiting for the ground to disappear beneath my feet.

Hannah doesn’t interrupt. She doesn’t pity me.

She just listens.

By the time the sun dips low, my chest feels lighter than it has in years.

As we head home, bags in our hands, something settles deep inside me.

For the first time in my life, I don’t feel like I’m surviving.

I feel like I’m beginning.