Chapter 46

Rosemary

It had been four months since that night by the creek, the night I drank Amber’s potion, sealing away a choice I didn’t fully understand. I hadn’t dared return to that spot - not even once. The memory of it haunted me, the way the moon had hung so heavily, casting an eerie glow on the water as I swallowed the bitter liquid that was supposed to end everything. Since that night, I had felt different, altered in some intangible way, as though I had stepped into a shadow that followed me everywhere, clinging to my skin.

My body betrayed me daily. Fatigue sank deep into my bones, the kind of exhaustion that sleep could never touch. No matter how many hours I slept, I always woke feeling as if I’d been carrying a weight all night. Even the simplest tasks left me winded, my muscles ached as though I’d run for miles. Every step felt heavy, as if invisible chains weighed down my feet. Something was wrong, and yet, I couldn’t find the will to question it. I had made a decision that night, a decision I couldn’t undo.

But the silence was the worst part. Since that night, I hadn’t felt my wolf. She was gone, or at least hidden so deeply that I couldn’t sense her anymore. I knew that silence was a message, a judgment. She disagreed with what I had done, and her absence felt like a wound, a reminder of the void I had created within myself. I would close my eyes, straining to hear even a whisper of her, but there was nothing. Just an empty space where she once lived, where her voice had once been a comfort in the darkness. I felt like half of myself, adrift without her.

And it wasn’t just my wolf who had gone silent. Ethan and I…something was different between us. He was still by my side, still the same fierce protector, but there was a distance now, a subtle gap that neither of us seemed willing to bridge. I could feel him watching me sometimes, his eyes filled with a quiet worry he never voiced. And when he reached for me, I found myself holding back, instinctively pulling away. I was afraid - afraid that if he looked too closely, he’d see the cracks in me, the hidden darkness I couldn’t explain.

I tried to keep up appearances, joining the pack for morning training and meals, but as soon as I could, I would retreat to my studio or disappear into the forest, finding solace in solitude. On the other hand, Grace seemed to cling to Dylan more than ever, her eyes filled with a kind of raw intensity whenever she looked at him. After months of separation and tension, she was terrified of letting him out of her sight, as though he might vanish if she looked away.

And then there was Nathaniel. His joy was undeniable, a light that burned brightly in the midst of our quiet chaos. After years of secrecy, he and Liam were finally free to love each other openly. The sight of them together was a solace, a reminder that love could still thrive, even in the darkest times. Nathaniel was practically buzzing with excitement, planning their wedding with infectious joy. They would be married in just a few weeks, on the eve of my 25th birthday, marking nearly a year since I had stumbled into this world.

A year. It was almost impossible to believe. If someone had told me a year ago that I would live in a pack, bound to an Alpha, surrounded by werewolves and witches, I would have laughed them out of the room. My life had once been simple, painfully ordinary. And now, I was entangled in something I could barely comprehend, a reality that was stranger than anything I’d ever known. I thought about that often, about the girl I had been before all of this. Would she even recognize me now? Would she understand the choices I had made, the secrets I kept?

As the weeks passed, Nathaniel and Liam’s wedding drew closer, and the pack buzzed with anticipation. Every day, people were bustling around, preparing for the ceremony. Grace had taken it upon herself to plan every detail, throwing herself into the work with a dedication that bordered on obsession. She dragged me along to help sometimes, though I was hardly much assistance. Most days, I felt like a ghost, drifting through the preparations, watching from a distance as the pack readied itself for a celebration of love while I wrestled with a silence that echoed louder every day.

Sometimes, I would sit by myself in the studio, paintbrush in hand, staring at a blank canvas for hours. I had always painted to escape, to pour my emotions onto the page, but now, it felt like nothing was left to give. I was empty, hollow. My paintings were now dark, shadowed scenes of forest clearings shrouded in mist, haunting figures standing alone under cold, indifferent moons. It was as though the forest itself had seeped into my soul, wrapping around my heart with a cold, unyielding grip.

In those moments, alone with my thoughts, I would sometimes let myself wonder: What if? What if I had chosen differently? What if I had told Ethan the truth, shared the burden of that choice with him? But the guilt was too much to bear, and I always pushed those thoughts away. I had made my decision, and now I had to live with it. The silence of my wolf, the growing distance between Ethan and me - they were the consequences of my actions, and I had no one to blame but myself.

Despite the pain, I found a strange comfort in the forest’s solitude. I would wander for hours, letting the cool air and the scent of pine wrap around me like a balm. I found hidden clearings, quiet streams, places untouched by the chaos of the pack. Sometimes, I would close my eyes and listen to the sounds of the forest, the rustle of leaves, the distant call of an owl, and for a brief moment, I could almost forget. I could pretend that I was just a girl, alone in the woods, with nothing but the trees for company.

But even in those moments, a part of me knew that something was coming. I could feel it, a dark shadow looming on the horizon, a weight pressing down on the pack that we couldn’t ignore. Andromeda. Her name was whispered in hushed voices, her presence a constant threat that hung over us like a storm waiting to break. Ethan had grown tense, his focus sharpening as he prepared the pack for whatever might come. He didn’t talk about it with me, but I could see it in his eyes, the way he held himself. The way he seemed to brace himself every time he left, as though he were preparing for battle.

And as the days inched closer to Nathaniel’s wedding and my own birthday, that sense of impending doom grew stronger. I tried to push it aside, to focus on the surrounding happiness, the love that filled the pack, but it was always there, lurking in the back of my mind. A reminder that this fragile world I had come to know, the life I had built here, was balanced on the edge of something dark and dangerous.

The weight of it all pressed down on me, but I kept going, kept pretending that everything was fine. Because what else could I do? I had made my choices, and now I had to live with them.