05
The air within the pack felt heavier than Amara remembered. Even after all these years, the scent of damp earth, burning firewood, and wild grass still felt familiar. But at the same time, everything seemed distant, as if she had never truly belonged there. Perhaps because she never had.
She walked through the corridors of the main house with slow steps, trying to ignore the curious and distrustful glances of the wolves passing by. She knew they were murmuring about her return, trying to understand what had brought her back after so many years of disappearance.
It was strange how time did not erase certain things. She was still seen as the orphan who should never have stayed in the pack. The one who was rejected. The one who was never good enough.
She hugged herself tightly, trying to silence the voices in her mind. She had come here for Marcus, not for Kian, not to prove anything to anyone. As soon as the Alpha was stabilized, she would leave for good.
No matter how much she wanted to believe that, a part of her knew it wouldn’t be that easy.
Marcus lay on the large bed in the center of the room, his face paler than the last time she had seen him. His presence had always been imposing, but now, the weight of years and illness had drained his strength.
Amara took the stethoscope and placed it around her neck, stepping closer to him.
“How are you feeling today?” she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral.
Marcus gave a small smile. “Better now that you’re here. I didn’t think Kian would manage to convince you.”
She scoffed lightly. “He didn’t. I came because I wanted to.”
“Wanted to?” Marcus raised an eyebrow, clearly doubtful. “Or felt obligated?”
Amara didn’t respond immediately. She simply placed the stethoscope in her ears and pressed it to his chest, listening to his slow, weak breathing.
“Your heart is overworked, but it’s not irreversible. I need a few days to better assess the situation. If all goes well, I can stabilize you.”
“And after that?”
She swallowed hard. “Then I leave.”
Marcus sighed, looking exhausted. “You’ve always been running, Amara. But at some point, we have to stop.”
Amara didn’t reply. She simply stepped back and jotted down some notes in the notebook she had brought with her. She knew Marcus was trying to reach her, but the past between her and Kian was an abyss that couldn’t be ignored.
And she wasn’t ready to deal with it.
As she exited Marcus’s room, she nearly bumped into Kian, who was leaning against the wall in the hallway, arms crossed over his chest.
“Do you have a habit of spying on people now?” she asked, crossing her arms as well.
“I was waiting,” he replied, his voice calm but with a slight edge of exasperation. “How is he?”
“Better than I thought, but he needs constant monitoring.”
Kian nodded but didn’t move. His gaze was too intense, as if he was trying to decipher something about her.
“What is it?” Amara questioned, feeling uncomfortable under his scrutiny.
“You’ve changed,” he said simply. “Your scent… your presence. It’s different from what I remember.”
Her heart pounded for a second, but she kept her expression firm. “Years away do that to a person.”
Kian’s eyes flashed for an instant, his Alpha instincts awakening. “There’s more to it, isn’t there?”
Amara felt a chill run down her spine. If there was one thing she wanted to avoid, it was raising suspicion. She took a step back, creating distance between them.
“I don’t have time for your theories, Kian. I came here to help Marcus, not to relive the past.”
He didn’t respond immediately, only tilted his head slightly, as if analyzing her every move.
“You can say whatever you want, Amara,” he said, his voice low. “But I know you. And I know when you’re hiding something.”
Her heartbeat quickened once more, but before she could respond, a voice interrupted them.
“Alpha, a moment?”
They both turned to see Jarek, one of the senior warriors, standing at the end of the corridor. He glanced between them before focusing on Kian. Amara took the opportunity to slip past Kian, heading toward the guest room she had been assigned.
She closed the door behind her, exhaling sharply. She had barely been back a day, and already Kian was questioning her. If he kept pushing, if he got too close—he would find out about the children.
And that was the last thing she wanted.
Later that night, Amara walked through the empty hallways, heading outside for some air. She couldn’t sleep, and the weight of being back in the pack was suffocating.
She stopped near the edge of the training grounds, watching the dark expanse of the forest beyond. Memories flooded back—nights spent running through those very trees, dreaming of a life where she belonged. A life where Kian had chosen her.
She clenched her fists. Those dreams had died long ago.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
She tensed at the sound of Kian’s voice behind her. She turned slowly, seeing him standing a few steps away, his golden eyes unreadable in the dim light.
“I just needed air,” she said simply.
Kian nodded, but he didn’t move. “You always came here when something was bothering you.”
Amara let out a breath. “That was a long time ago.”
He studied her for a moment. “You know, when you left… I looked for you.”
Her chest tightened. She had spent years convincing herself that he had never cared. That she had been easy to forget.
“And yet, you found your mate,” she replied, bitterness creeping into her voice.
Kian’s expression darkened. “She wasn’t my choice. She was my obligation.”
Amara let out a dry laugh. “And now she’s gone. Convenient, isn’t it?”
Kian took a step closer. “What do you want me to say, Amara? That I made mistakes? That I regret them?”
She lifted her chin. “It wouldn’t change anything.”
He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “You’re right. It wouldn’t. But it doesn’t mean I won’t try.”
Amara turned away. “I didn’t come here for this. I came for Marcus. That’s all.”
Silence stretched between them before Kian finally spoke again. “For now.”
She looked at him over her shoulder, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, without another word, she walked back inside, leaving Kian standing there in the moonlight.
Alone.