03

Kian's words echoed in my mind for days. "I don’t know who else to turn to." He sounded desperate, but that shouldn’t have been my problem. Still, against my will, something about it bothered me.

It was the way he said it, as if the weight of the world was crushing him. Not because he wanted me back, of course, but because he needed something from me. It was always like that with Kian: he knew exactly how to invade my thoughts, even after all these years.

No matter how hard I tried to focus on my present life, that phone call reopened a wound I thought had already healed. A bitter mix of anger and pain grew in my chest, as if all the years of silence and distance meant nothing.

I had rebuilt my life far away from the past, far away from the pack and the memories that had almost destroyed me. Here, in the human world, no one saw me as "the orphan who would never belong." I was just Amara: a respected doctor, a dedicated mother, someone who had created her own story.

But deep down, I wondered: was it enough?

Routine had always been my refuge. At the hospital, my full schedule kept me from thinking too much. But that day, not even the appointments and reports could distract me.

"Are you okay, Amara?" Dani, my receptionist, asked softly. She handed me a folder of patient files, watching me with a concern I tried to ignore.

"I’m fine," I replied almost automatically, flipping through the papers without actually reading them.

She tilted her head, studying me. "It’s because of that phone call, isn’t it?"

I froze mid-page, my hand still. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Dani chuckled softly, but there was a kindness in her tone. "Amara, I’ve worked with you for years. I know when something’s bothering you. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here."

I tried to smile, but it was forced. "Thank you, Dani," I murmured before standing and walking toward the exam rooms.

No matter how much I denied it, her words hit home. The storm of emotions was consuming me, and I knew this was only the beginning.

Night had fallen peacefully, and as usual, I put the children to bed. Liam, Noah, and Lily were the center of my world, the reason I stayed strong even on the hardest days.

After checking on them one last time, I went to the living room, ready to relax. But before I could sit down, I heard footsteps outside. My body tensed, and a sense of alertness washed over me.

I walked cautiously to the door, my heart already racing. When I opened it, my world froze.

Kian stood there.

"Amara," he said, his voice deep and weary. His golden eyes, which had always seemed unshakable, were now surrounded by shadows of exhaustion. He looked thinner, as if the weight of the world truly had been crushing him.

My hand tightened on the doorknob, a mix of anger and nerves coursing through me. "You have no right to show up here," I said through clenched teeth.

"I had no choice," he replied, his tone calm but firm. "You wouldn’t listen to me on the phone, so I came in person."

I stared at him, trying to ignore the wave of emotions rising inside me: anger, yes, but also something deeper, something I didn’t want to acknowledge. "You shouldn’t be here," I whispered.

"Please," he pleaded, something I never expected to hear from Kian. "I know I have no right to ask you for anything, but my father… he’s dying, Amara."

The words hit me like a blow. I had known Alpha Marcus for years, and he had always treated me with respect, even when the rest of the pack didn’t.

"That’s not my problem," I replied, my voice colder than I intended.

Kian stepped closer, and I immediately backed away. He noticed, stopping in his tracks, respecting my space.

"You’re right," he said, his shoulders sagging slightly. "I don’t deserve your help. Not after everything that happened. But I’m here because he asked me to come. He believes you can save him."

I wanted to tell him no, that none of this mattered to me. But I knew that wasn’t true. Alpha Marcus had protected me when no one else cared. Ignoring him felt wrong, but going back to the pack meant reopening wounds I had spent years trying to heal.

"I can’t, Kian," I finally said, my voice barely a whisper. "I can’t go back."

He remained silent for a moment, studying me with those golden eyes I had always feared. Then he nodded slowly. "Alright. I won’t push you anymore tonight."

He turned and began walking into the darkness, leaving me alone with my thoughts. But deep down, I knew this wasn’t over.

The next night, my routine was interrupted again, but this time far more abruptly.

I had left the clinic late, walking through nearly deserted streets, lost in my thoughts. That’s when I felt something move behind me. Before I could react, a cloth was pressed against my face.

Everything went dark.

When I woke up, I was in a moving car. My head was pounding, and the smell of leather mixed with pine hit me. It was a scent I recognized.

"You’re unbelievable," I muttered, my voice hoarse.

Kian was sitting in the front seat, looking back at me. His expression was a mix of guilt and determination. "I told you we needed to talk."

"Kidnapping people isn’t exactly talking, Kian!"

He sighed, turning fully to face me. "You weren’t going to come back on your own."

I wanted to scream, to fight, but I was too exhausted. So I leaned back in the seat, trying to process what was happening.

"You can’t just drag me back," I whispered.

"I’m not dragging you anywhere," he said, his voice softer. "I’m trying to fix things."

I looked at him, incredulous. "After everything that happened, you think you can fix this? Fix us?"

He didn’t respond immediately. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, it seemed like he was fighting an internal battle.

"I don’t know if I can fix the past," he finally admitted. "But I know I have to try."

I turned my gaze away, but his words lingered in my mind as the car moved toward a place I never wanted to see again.