Plot Twists Awakening 短篇故事與小說

On the day of my marking ceremony, I accidentally slept through it for eight hours. By the time I made it to the altar, the ceremony was already over. My fiance, Liam Langdon, the youngest Alpha in Silver Moon Pack's history, stood hand in hand with his childhood sweetheart, Chloe Kingston. They were accepting the pack's blessings. The moment Chloe saw my pale face and disheveled state, she covered her mouth and giggled. "Sorry, Ella. I think I accidentally mixed a sleeping potion into the water I brought you at noon." Liam looked at her affectionately before glancing at me. "Chloe has dreamed of having the perfect marking ceremony ever since we were kids. It's only a ceremony. Let her have this one." He reached up and adjusted her veil. "And honestly, that dress looks better on her than it ever would have on you." My gaze landed on the white dress. I spent six months making it. I learned from the best tailor in the territory and stitched every single seam by hand. As if afraid I'd make a scene in front of everyone, Liam added casually, "Ella, if you can be reasonable about this, I'll officially mark you at the next full moon." The entire altar fell silent. Every werewolf expected me to lose control. Instead, I simply stood there and let out a sigh of relief. If he'd told me that sooner, I wouldn't have had to stay here any longer. It was finally time for me to return home and claim my throne.

Lucius Nightshade, the Original Vampire Progenitor, was ambushed. A rogue hunter on a suicide mission. But my mate, Julian Thorne, and his elite guards weren't there. They were at a midnight masquerade, playing bodyguard for his childhood sweetheart, Lilah. I didn't invoke the mate bond to summon Julian. Instead, heavy with an eight-month pregnancy, I threw myself at Lucius. I traded my life to shield him from the fatal silver shrapnel. Because in my past life, I did invoke the emergency bond. Julian ditched Lilah, teleported to the scene, and saved Lucius. For that, he got a seat on the High Council. He became the Lord of his clan. But Lilah threw a fit because he left her behind. She ran off the territory in a tantrum and got ripped apart by our clan's worst enemies. Julian didn't say a word. But on the day I was due to give birth, he forcibly dragged me into the Sunlight Cell. His fangs grazed my ear, dangerous and cold. His hands shook violently on my shoulders, fueled by pure grief and manic rage. "The Progenitor had so many elite guards! Why did you have to force-summon me? Am I just a stepping stone to you? You don't love me. You just wanted the vanity of being a Lord's wife, didn't you?" "Lilah wouldn't be dead if it wasn't for your damn jealousy! You are going to suffer a thousand times worse than she did!" Then, without a shred of mercy, he shoved me and my newborn into the blazing daylight. I watched in horror as my baby burned to ashes right beside me. When I opened my eyes again, the harsh stench of silver powder filled the air. I was back on the day Progenitor Lucius was ambushed.

In my previous life, I was adopted by an ordinary werewolf family, while my sister, Evelyn, was taken in by the Alpha family. But less than three years after joining the Alpha household, Evelyn broke their rules, was banished from the pack, and died alone in the wilderness. Meanwhile, my adoptive brother Evan and I built a successful business through our own hard work. With the blessing of our pack, we completed our mate-bonding ceremony and had three litters of pups. It was a happy and fulfilling life. When fate gave us a second chance, Evelyn made the exact opposite choice. She ran over, threw herself into Evan's arms, and called his name sweetly. Looking at me with smug satisfaction, she said, "Natalie, you can go to the Alpha family this time. I've had enough of all their rules. I don't even want to set foot in their territory." I turned to look at the man who had been my mate in my previous life. I was hoping he would say something. Instead, he lowered his head and smelled the back of Evelyn's neck. He looked at me coldly. "Don't come any closer. I'll kill you." In the end, under Evelyn's triumphant gaze, I walked toward the Alpha family's car.

Whenever Jacob called my name, his first instinct was always to utter his ex's name, "Anna". On our first anniversary, the gift he gave me was written: [Anna, let’s be together forever.] When we were intimate, he couldn't stop himself from whispering in my ear, "Anna, tell me you love me." Every time he called me by the wrong name, I could only helplessly reiterate, "My name is Anya, not Anna." Over time, Jacob probably felt some shame. Before addressing me, he would pause to think for a moment, and then successfully say my name, "Anya." Just when I thought he had finally stopped confusing the two of us, Anna suddenly returned. From then on, whenever Jacob introduced me to the rest of the pack, he called me "Anna" more frequently than ever. Even during our mating ceremony, as he held out the ring to me, he called out, "Anna, will you be my mate?" Looking at Jacob standing before me, I didn't bother to correct him this time. Since the name he called wasn't mine, I shouldn't be the one to accept.

A man by the name of Michael Burke shows up one day. He gathers four of us who had grown up in the orphanage and introduces himself as the secretary to John Ferguson, the richest man in town. According to him, John's real son had been mistakenly switched as a baby 20 years ago. Anyone who can prove that he's the long-lost son will get to inherit the Ferguson family's entire billion-dollar fortune. The first time around, Luke Carter, ever the manipulative schemer, tricks me into handing over the locket I've had since arriving at the orphanage. He uses it to prove his identity to the Fergusons, but they end up ripping him into pieces. "You're a fake!" Somehow, the four of us are reborn after that. This time, Simon Davis, whose friendship was superficial at best, gets a tattoo of my birthmark and uses that to claim that he's the Fergusons' long-lost son. They end up skinning him alive. "We know you're a fake!" Third time isn't the charm. Tom Egan, my archrival, takes out a loan and pays for plastic surgery to give himself a face that resembles Mrs. Ferguson's. However, the Fergusons throw him into a cage and let a ferocious dog maul him to death. In our fourth life, all three of them are too scared to usurp my identity. They immediately deliver me right to the Fergusons' doorstep. When everyone sees the DNA report that proves I'm the Fergusons' long-lost son, they think that their nightmare has finally ended. But on my very first night back home, the Fergusons push me off the balcony. "Anyone who tries to steal our son's identity deserves to die!" … My eyes open yet again. Michael is standing in front of us, smiling as he asks which one of us is the Fergusons' son. Everyone backs away in horror, insisting that it's not them. "But we've already looked into it. We know that the family's long-lost son grew up in this orphanage," Michael says, his voice strangely ominous.

Three days ago, my vampire fiancé, Clan Lord Raven Ashford, took his aide Vera on a private overnight trip to the southern border and gave her the seat reserved for his betrothed. He expected me to make a scene. I didn’t. I had stopped fighting a month ago. A year's worth of small surrenders had finally added up to something I could no longer ignore. He handed the border treaty I had negotiated myself to Vera, thinking I would appeal to the elders. Instead, I organized the handover documents and sent them over. He dismantled the territorial affairs I had managed for years, piece by piece, to pave Vera's way forward. I said nothing. I took the blame that was mine, accepted the cold looks, and let it all pass. At the banquet, he seated Vera beside him. He nodded more at her words than at mine. He thought I had finally accepted it, thought I was afraid to lose him. Then he came to me with offers. A manor in the south. Hunting grounds in the west. The family ring that should finally go on my finger. For the first time, he initiated these things himself, speaking as though granting me rewards. I asked for nothing. The dissolution papers he had already signed were buried among the documents he approved without reading. Those papers contained two declarations: the end of our betrothal and my departure from the clan. He never noticed. He still believed I was his betrothed, still waiting. I wasn't.

I've been sponsoring a poor student named Sophie Martin who's about to drop out, allowing her to graduate from university without a hitch. When Sophie confesses to me on graduation day, I firmly reject her advances. I didn't expect her to slander me after her failed confession, accusing me of sponsoring her only because I want to keep her by my side for salacious reasons. I'm thrust into the eye of the storm and forced to endure endless criticisms. My university fires me to save its reputation. No other school dares to employ me. I become depressed due to constant verbal harassment from the netizens. I barely survive as I hide in a dim basement every day. One day, I see Sophie on the news by chance. She has become an inspirational microcelebrity and is enjoying a life of fame and fortune. Infuriated, I seek her out and demand an explanation. But she pushes me off the building, leading to my death. After I died, Sophie tells the public that I refused to give up and continued to harass her, claiming that's the reason why I slipped and fell off the building. When I open my eyes again, I realize that I've been transported back in time to the day that Sophie tells me that she's going to drop out of school.

My family was so poor we owned exactly one decent coat between us. The day it was my older brother's turn to wear it out to dig wild greens, a princess out hunting spotted him and took him straight into the palace as her consort. I went to the wedding feast when my brother married the princess. The most beautiful woman in the capital, the Chancellor's daughter, looked at me once. The very next day, sixty-six carriers of betrothal gifts piled up outside our thatched hut. She'd marry no one but me. When my old teacher heard the news, he showed up at our door. He'd been a widower for years, raising his son alone, and now he offered to adopt me as his son and give me a proper wedding to be proud of. In my last life, I'd wept with gratitude and said yes. I never imagined that on my wedding day, my teacher and the Chancellor's daughter would be fished out of the lily pond stripped bare and locked in each other's arms. She fainted from the shock. He screamed that he'd been framed and tried to throw himself against a rockery to end it all. Her reputation was ruined beyond saving, so she had no choice but to marry him instead. He climbed straight into the chancellery on the back of it, while I picked up a hoe and went back to my village to keep digging up wild greens. A year later, word came from the princess's estate that my brother had drowned. I rode through the night on a donkey to get there, and found wedding decorations hanging from every doorway of the estate. My teacher's son, it turned out, had been comforting the grieving princess with cup after cup of wine. One drunken night, she'd mistaken him for my brother and kept him till morning. He became the new consort. Ten years later, I saw them again. Father and son were dressed in silk and dripping with power, while life had ground me down to nothing. The two of them tossed a handful of copper coins at me out of pity, then swept off surrounded by servants. I froze to death in the street that winter, clutching my brother's photograph. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my teacher came to ask to adopt me as his son.

Just as I was on the verge of miscarriage from a fall, my husband—New York's most powerful Don—was throwing a lavish birthday gala for his childhood sweetheart, Camilla. I called, begging for help, but he dismissed it as a cheap stunt and coldly hung up. As his wife, I bore the honor of being the Donna—yet no one knew I couldn't even scrape together a thousand dollars. All because, to "train" me into a proper Donna, he had handed total control of my life and finances straight to Camilla. Desperate, I begged anyone who would listen. But by the time I finally scraped the money together, my baby's heartbeat stopped forever. After waking up in that hospital bed, I dragged myself back to his penthouse to pack my bags. That was when I stumbled upon the auction receipt for Camilla's birthday gift. A ten-million-dollar mansion in Beverly Hills, plus endless custom jewelry. Just then, his deep, raspy voice drifted from the study next door. He was on a call with his underbosses. "Boss, was Scarlett really at the hospital begging you for a grand?" Cassius scoffed. "Scarlett is my Donna. She has my men guarding her 24/7. How could anything possibly happen to her? She's just pulling a cheap stunt for attention. Camilla is right. I've spoiled Scarlett too much lately. If Camilla isn't strict with her, how is an orphan going to earn the Famiglia's respect? She'll understand my good intentions later." Tears slipped down my face. Fuck his rules. Fuck his Donna. The second the doctor called my baby's time of death, I decided I was out of his life—never to return.

Liam Hurley's favorite thing to say to me is, "Don't worry." Don't worry. Once he consolidates his power and ends the internal strife of the pack, we'll reveal our relationship. Because of that, I waited for two years. Don't worry. We'll hold the bonding ceremony as soon as his mother accepts me. I waited for another three. In the fifth year, at the banquet celebrating Liam's rise to Alpha of the Ashmoon pack, his mother, Elana Gibson, unclasps the moonstone necklace from around her neck in front of everyone. Liam told me long ago that passing down the moonstone necklace is the Ashmoon pack's official ritual for acknowledging a Luna. I figure Liam won't be telling me not to worry this time. "Here, let me put this on you." Elana walks right past me and gently fastens the necklace around the neck of Lilith Powell, Liam's assistant. The whole banquet hall falls dead silent. Elana pats the back of her hand with a warm smile. "Lilith is so sweet and kind, and she's been a massive help to Liam. She has a special place in my heart." I hear someone whisper, "What about Freya?" Liam lowers his voice. "My mother cherishes bonds. Lilith really has done a lot for me, so don't take it personally. Don't worry, okay? Next month, I'll take you to pick out a better moonstone necklace that's way more valuable than that one." As the crowd scatters, Lilith strokes the necklace and gives me a smug smile. "Freya, are you jealous? Elana says this moonstone has been passed down for seven generations in the Ashmoon pack." I tell her I am. Just then, my phone buzzes in my pocket. "Have you made up your mind? When are you coming to Nordravia?"

The day my son, Nathan Cardin, turns one month old, we are both kidnapped. Our kidnapper demands that I call my wife, Jennifer Surton, so that he can demand ransom money. Since the phone is placed on loudspeaker mode, everyone can hear her scoff. "Asking for money again? You sure are going all out with your act this time." I'm about to explain when I suddenly hear someone sigh and lament. [Oh dear, how did I end up with the same start even after being reborn? Daddy is completely unaware that Mommy is currently busy gathering funds, after her first love claimed that he's now burdened with substantial debt due to helping her with her company.] Just as I'm wondering who said that, a man's voice comes over the phone call. "Jen, save me!" The call is abruptly cut off. While the kidnapper dials Jennifer's number over and over again, I hear that voice speak once more. It sounds incredibly young. [Daddy, don't bother wasting your energy. In our previous life, Mommy came to rescue us with the money, which resulted in her first love getting killed by his debtors. In her terrible grief, she set us both on fire and burned us to ashes.] Dozens of tries later, Jennifer finally picks up again. "Can't you be a little more understanding? What do you think is more important—Rick's life or you buying a new car?" Gazing at Nathan nearby, I grit my teeth and answer, "Go and save Hendrick. He's more important." In my mind, I vowed, "Don't be scared, son. I'll make sure that we both live on in this life."

Declan, the Alpha heir of the Nighthowl Pack and my arranged mate, proposed to me right after donating his Alpha marrow to his childhood sweetheart. In my past life, I said yes out of love and for the sake of our pack alliance. But after we mated, the weight of two territories fell entirely on my shoulders. Losing that marrow broke Declan’s inner wolf. He couldn’t fight. He couldn’t shift. He couldn’t even give me a strong heir. I had to run the crystal mines while fighting off rogues for him. Before I even turned forty, I dropped dead. Utterly drained. Worked to death. And Declan? He comfortably took all the territory resources I had bled for and marked his little sweetheart. They lived happily ever after in my manor. So, reborn and facing his deep, affectionate proposal once again, I just looked at him calmly and said no. "You gave away your Alpha marrow. Your wolf is broken. What makes you think a defective piece of trash like you deserves me?"

I was the eldest daughter of the Beta. But my parents hid me away. My mother shoved the tray into my hands. She lowered her voice and hissed. "Your wolf is dead," my mother hissed. "You're a disgrace. Stay in the corner. Do the Omega work. Don't embarrass us." My brother, Caleb, frowned at me. "Chloe worked hard for her Silvercrest offer. Nothing can ruin her night. If the other families find out you can't even shift, we'll be a laughingstock." Then there was Julian. My fated mate. The Alpha heir of our pack. His voice was cold and sharp, as always. "Harper, tonight is the most important night of Chloe's life. Be good. Don't cause trouble." Today was the day the academy offers were announced. But my family only held a celebration for my adopted sister, Chloe. I gripped the rough fabric of my uniform. A bitter taste filled my mouth. Was I not good enough already? I was twelve when my wolf first awakened. I showed a rare healing gift. But Chloe lost her mind. She grabbed a silver blade and cried. She threatened to hurt herself. My whole family glared at me. They accused me of showing off. They said I crushed her ego. Since then, I learned to suppress my wolf. I used foul-smelling herbs to mask my scent. For six years, I endured their cold stares. I pretended to be a cripple. A useless wolf who couldn't even shift. But this time was different. The secret trials for the Lycan Healer Academy in the Royal Capital. It was the top school in the North. Every healer's ultimate dream. I watched them crowd around Chloe. Their faces glowed with pride and joy. The news of my acceptance letter died in my throat. Fine. If they thought I was just a useless loser, I didn't need to tell them my plans. In three days, I was leaving the pack. I was flying thousands of miles away to the Royal Capital.

In Onyx City, the ancient Thorne clan lived by a ruthless blood-pact law. If the clan Lord granted a new fledgling his absolute protection, the reigning Consort had to yield her place. She was required to remove her bloodstone collar—the ultimate symbol of his patronage and power—and fasten it around the neck of the new ward herself, right in front of the entire clan. Mia was that fledgling. Today marked exactly one year since she had been taken under the wing of Lord Luca, the man I considered my mate. Every vampire in Onyx City was waiting for me to break down. After all, I had been his closest companion and deepest obsession for ten years. I was the dying stray he’d saved from a hunter’s silver blade. I had craved him like a drug. I used to wake up in the dead of night, begging for his bite, his blood. I only felt peace when his scent swallowed me whole. They all knew my sickening dependence on him. They had even placed bets, swearing I would never let go. Yet, as Mia tilted her pale, fragile neck at me, taunting me with her sickeningly sweet voice, I didn't shed a single tear. Without a moment's hesitation, I unclasped the heavy bloodstone collar and fastened it around her throat myself. Luca lounged on his dark velvet throne, swirling the blood wine in his goblet. His scarlet eyes gleamed with amusement. "Elara. You've finally learned how to please me." I lowered my eyes, my fingertips brushing my bare, cold collarbone. I said nothing. Luca didn't know the truth. My sealed memories had awakened a month ago. I wasn't some lowly stray who had been clinging to life on the streets. I was the lost princess of the Nightshades, the oldest and most formidable Original bloodline in the dark world. In three days, my brother would arrive to take me home. I would reclaim my true identity.

The night my husband came home from another flight smelling of another woman's perfume, one question was taking over social media. "Where have all the homemaker over forty-seven gone? "If life as a homemaker is so wonderful, why doesn't anyone ever speak up about it?" My husband, an international airline captain with over a million followers, signed us up for a livestream. He wanted me to prove that homemaker hadn't vanished. According to him, they were simply loved, protected, and cherished by their husbands. He was certain I'd play along. After all, for 22 years, I'd been the perfect wife. Even when my swollen joints hurt so much I could barely hold a spatula, I still washed his uniforms and made sure dinner was waiting when he got home. Even when he walked through the door carrying another woman's perfume, I would only touch my wedding ring and tell myself the same lie. "He's just having a little fun. In the end, he'll always come back to me." On the day of the livestream, he smiled at the camera and told everyone how happy our marriage was. I was in the kitchen baking, carrying dish after dish to the table. Then the host asked me one simple question. "Would you want your daughter to grow up to be the homemaker as you?" My husband smiled and typed his answer onto the teleprompter for me to read. "Of course." I walked into the frame with the last dish in my hands. I looked straight into the camera. "No," I said. "I wouldn't."

On the day our couple channel hit thirty million followers, the milestone video was supposed to be my official debut on camera. I woke up at five in the morning to do my makeup and tried on a dozen different dresses. However, right before the cameras rolled, Julian stopped me. "Willow, let's have Evangeline do it instead. She's just more camera-ready. The fans will love her." Evangeline was my best friend. I stood frozen for a long time, but in the end, I simply nodded. From that day on, Julian and Evangeline played a romantic couple on screen for three years. I stood behind the lens, writing their scripts, setting up their lighting, and editing every single frame. I watched the comment section explode day after day. [They look so deeply in love! My favorite ship ever!] And I watched Julian hold Evangeline's hand with more and more ease. Until the night of our three-year anniversary stream, when the host asked them a question live on camera. "When was the exact moment you two felt the strongest spark for each other?" Julian and Evangeline smiled in perfect sync. "The very first day we shot together on camera." In an instant, the live stream chat erupted into wild cheers and screams. Sitting in the dark corner of the studio behind the control monitor, my heart sank. They had spent three years pretending to be in love, and I was the only fool who treated it like an act. As soon as the broadcast wrapped, I logged into the channel dashboard and revoked all my admin access. Then, I opened an email invitation for an overseas film project I had received two weeks ago and accepted it. From now on, I was done writing their love story.

My online boyfriend dropped a bomb on me the day before freshman orientation day. He had been playing dice with a group of friends and lost a bet. Apparently, I was the prize. Before I could even figure out whether he was joking, he added me to a gaming group chat packed with more than a hundred people. The announcement at the top had already been changed. "Congratulations, Oliver! You just won yourself a 200-pound girlfriend!" A few seconds later, someone posted an old high school photo of me. It was a picture of me in my loose school uniform. As I was at nearly 200 pounds, my neck had practically disappeared into my shoulders. The chat instantly erupted. "Holy shit! That's not a girlfriend. That's a pig in human form." "A bet's a bet. Oliver, you have to do the couple challenge with her tomorrow." The jokes only got worse from there. Before long, someone even started a betting pool over whether I would have the nerve to show up the next night. My own boyfriend threw 10,000 at me and then backed out. "Don't blame me, man. You rolled a six. You won her fair and square." Oliver, the guy who had supposedly won me, stayed completely silent. Then, the girl everyone in the freshman group had already crowned the hottest girl on campus suddenly tagged me. "Lauren, you're coming tomorrow night, right?" I watched message after message fill the screen. Then, I smiled. They had no idea that I had spent the past several months preparing for the day I finally met my boyfriend in person. I was no longer the girl in that photo. I had gone from 200 pounds to 110. I'd been stopped by plenty of guys over the past two months. I'd gotten so many men asking for my number in the past couple of months than I had during the first 18 years of my life combined. None of the people laughing in that chat knew any of that. And I… Well, I didn't see the need to explain myself. Instead, I quietly put 3,000 on myself. My bet was simple. I would show up exactly on time. The entire group chat went crazy the moment they saw it. Mocking comments, jokes, and laughing emojis flooded the screen. I didn't say anything, letting their jeers fill the screen. Then, I sent one final message. "A bet's a bet."

When my Alpha heir fiancé, Weston, chose jewelry for our bonding ceremony, he did what he always did, buying two of everything so my twin sister, Riley, could pick first. One was a moonstone necklace, blessed by a High Witch. The other was a simple onyx choker, the kind of cheap trinket you could find anywhere in the pack market. For the first time, I spoke before Riley could make her choice. I pointed to the moonstone necklace. "This time, can I choose first?" Weston's palm settled on the crown of my head, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "Riley is the jewel of your pack. She is meant to shine and deserves things worthy of a princess. You don't care about these things, Lyra. The choker suits you better. Quiet, unassuming." I didn't say a word, but something inside me crumbled to dust. In this family, Riley always got the first cut of roasted venison and the room with the best sunlight. My mother said Riley was the pack's glory and deserved the best, while my father called it survival of the fittest. Our two packs had arranged this alliance long ago, and everyone assumed his mate would be Riley. But she despised being tied down and yearned for freedom, so Weston settled for me. I had known Weston for twenty years. In his world, I would always be Riley's stand-in. I looked down at the choker and pushed it away. "If Riley wants them, she can have both. I don't want either." I was done with leftovers, and that included my Alpha mate.

On my wedding day, I slept for six hours inside my own dressing room. By the time I reached the DeLuca family chapel in the Hudson Valley, Matteo had already completed the entire ceremony with his childhood friend, Sofia Rinaldi, the daughter of one of the DeLucas’ oldest allied families. She wore the gown I had spent six months designing and the pearl tiara passed down through generations of DeLuca women. Allies from New York, Chicago, and Sicily had witnessed everything. No one had saved a place for the real bride. Matteo looked at my pale face and explained calmly. “Sofia put the sedative in your tea. She only wanted one wedding. The dose was small, so there is no reason to make this into something bigger.” Everyone waited for me to cause a scene. I only let out a quiet sigh and looked at Matteo with disappointment. My family had given me one final chance to marry for love. Now that the wedding had failed, I had to return to Sicily, obey their decision, and inherit the family.

When I handed in my resignation, my supervisor said, "Mr. Foster promised to marry you once you made director. You're only one promotion away, so why quit now?" I looked down at my pant legs, the hems still soaked from the puddles outside. "Because of an umbrella." My mind went back to yesterday. Rain was pouring down, and I was stranded at the office entrance without an umbrella. Mark Foster's new assistant, Rachel Lynch, was stuck there too. Mark came downstairs carrying a single umbrella. He didn't hesitate before offering to share it with Rachel. After all, no one would read anything into the two of them being seen together. He looked at me and said flatly, "Erin, because we're together, sharing an umbrella would only get people talking. It's not worth it." I stood frozen for a long moment, watching them walk away beneath the same umbrella. Then I ran straight into the rain. In the ten years Mark and I had been together, he had fallen back on the same excuse more times than I could count. "Since we're together, we have to be careful about how things look." That was why I always came and went alone, while every promotion passed me by. Now, even sharing an umbrella with him was apparently too much to ask. By the time my resignation was official, the rain had eased to a drizzle. This time, I opened my own umbrella and walked away, calm and unhurried. I didn't need his anymore. It was never meant to shelter me anyway.