Started When We Were Younger Novelas e Histórias

Whatever this was, it wasn’t over. And we were just getting started.

It all started when I was just five years old, at the pack’s annual celebration—a time meant for laughter and harmony. The memory surged through me like a relentless tide. The event hall was alive with music and chatter, the air thick with the aromas of roasted meats and spiced drinks. Children ran between tables, their laughter rising above the lively hum of conversations. Pack members clinked glasses, toasted to another year of blessings, and exchanged stories of their triumphs and challenges.

His voice, so tender as he spoke. He leaned forward and continued, "I've always wanted to see you happy, to see both of you happy, don't you remember what it used to be like? Before all of these?” I lowered my head, feeling the full weight of his words—the truth, that's what his words sounded like now, cause I do remember. We were young—probably between the ages of nine and ten. The evenings used to be chill and the air usually carried a familiar scent—the scent of pines and wild berries.

I saw the beginning of something new. Ours.

Too normal to investigate. Too perfectly average to be extraordinary fugitives. It was insane. It was brilliant. It was our only option. So we took it. Together. Always. Starting Saturday. With dinner. And friendship. And the beginning of the end. Or the end of the beginning. Time would tell. But we'd face it together. That was enough. It had to be. Because it was all we had. And we'd make it everything. Starting now.

Of building up a client base that was right there when we opened and making sure to keep things going even through some of the rough spots. “Dude, you keep going off in your own little world. What were you thinking about this time?” “The Ward,” I reply with a grin and he shakes his head, practically beaming himself. “That’s a name I haven’t heard in years. Remember when we created that?” “We couldn’t come up with anything more creative for our parties,” I laugh and he sinks down into the chair across from me. “Man, I haven’t thought about how we got started in ages. But damn did we have fun, huh?”

And I realized, with a shiver running through me— We were just getting started.

Ah… right… It all started as a bet. How did I forget?

It had been so for the last fourteen years. I thought about the night we arrived, me barely eight years old, clutching Mother's hand as we stood on this very spot. She had looked down at the ridge and said, "This is our fresh start. No one knows us here. We can be anyone we want to be." She had chosen for us to be small. To be quiet. To be safe. Now, I was standing here, the mate bond humming in my chest, and I was not sure I could be small anymore.

Nothing like the stubborn girl I'd grown up with. I sat beside her bed and just stared at her face. Memories of our childhood came rushing back. Two little girls sharing stolen bread because they couldn't afford dinner. Laughing over things that weren't even funny until our stomachs hurt, The first time we almost got caught and we ran through the streets like complete idiots. The excitement on our faces when we finally earned enough to pay for our tiny apartment. We had always been a team for years and I believed we'd always have each other.