One year later.Shop number two? Thriving.I wasn't the she-wolf who waited around anymore.Now they called me the herbalist queen—cool, steady, totally myself.***Noah still showed up every day.Little by little, we became more.He never pushed.Just stayed close, calm—like he knew my wolf needed time.He remembered the peanut allergy. Never slipped up once.When my wrist flared, he'd rub in the ointment, real gentle.If I looked beat, he'd cover the shop and send me home to crash.I started opening up—memories, pain, stuff I thought I'd buried deep.That's when it hit me—real love isn't silent waiting or one-sided giving.It's respect. It's shared space. It's healing, slow and steady.One day, the pack threw a festival.Noah and I showed up together.Liam was there.He clocked us—fingers laced, full smiles.Bitterness flashed in his eyes, then slipped into something softer. Acceptance.He got it.I'd found what was mine. And it was time he let go.Later, Noah a
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