Human

I spent the entire day confined to my room, feeling like a shadow of myself. The moment I left the alpha's office and walked away from him, a heavy sadness settled over me, weighing down my chest. It was as if he alone was holding everything back. I tried to distract myself, but the grief was relentless, crashing over me like waves. I paced, then sat, then eventually broke down completely—crying, sobbing, and hurting all over. 

There were murmured voices outside my door, but no one disturbed me. Except for Eren, the pack doctor, who eventually entered despite my tear-streaked, pitiful state. I immediately pulled the blanket over my head, trying to hide the ugly mess that was on my face. 

"If she lost her memory, what the hell is she crying about?" Oliver's annoying voice filtered through from outside. He is mean and rude and I will deal with him when I am done with all the crying. 

Thankfully, someone hushed him and shooed him away, sparing me from further irritation. I silently thanked whoever it was. 

Eren patiently waited until my sobs subsided enough for him to examine me. His presence was surprisingly gentle, and I found myself reluctantly pulling the blanket down. His calm demeanor was a balm to my frazzled state. 

"Did you remember something?" he asked softly, as though trying not to spook a fragile animal. 

I swallowed thickly; my throat raw from crying. "I don't know," I whispered hoarsely. "It just feels like... someone betrayed me. Or like someone drove a knife straight through my heart." 

It was the truth, i was done with the lies but it was not the full truth. and I hoped it was enough to pacify their questions. I was in no state to weave elaborate excuses to protect myself from suspicion. 

Eren tilted his head, a thoughtful frown creasing his forehead. "I guess... maybe your wolf remembers," he mused aloud. "Sometimes the emotional bond with your wolf is stronger than memory. Once you're able to shift, it's possible that your memories will return gradually." 

I nodded weakly, grateful for the plausible excuse he provided. It was better than anything I could have come up with in my current state. 

"Rest," Eren advised gently. "Your body and mind need time to recover." 

I gave a half-hearted nod, sinking back into the pillows. The truth was, I wasn't sure if rest would fix anything. My heartache felt deeper than that—this was my first betrayal and from the two people who are closest to me. I just didn't know how to piece it back together. 

It was late, the sky outside painted with dark indigo hues, only faint stars dotting the vast expanse. The room was dark, the only light was the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window. The winds howled softly, whispering secrets I didn't care to hear. I sat by the window, knees pulled to my chest, my head resting on them feeling like an empty shell. My thoughts spiraled, heavy and restless. 

A knock on the door broke through my haze. I waited for the person to barge in like everyone else, but the knock came again, soft and patient. 

"Come inside," I said weakly, my voice barely above a whisper. 

The door creaked open, and someone stepped inside carrying a tray of food. Plates from the afternoon still sat untouched on the table, the food cold and forgotten. I guess that explained the weakness weighing down my body. 

"Why are you sad?" the person asked gently, flicking on the lights. 

The sudden brightness made me wince. I raised my hands to shield my eyes, hiding behind them like a child. Slowly, I peeked through my fingers and saw a woman standing there. She was about the age of my mother. 

Instead, I heard the clatter of a tray being set down on the table. The smell of warm food wafted through the room, making my empty stomach twist. 

She was looking at the plate of untouched food from this afternoon. 

"You haven't eaten anything," a gentle but firm voice said. her expression stern at first, as though ready to scold me for not eating changed when she noticed my tear-streaked, pale face, her features softened. She was looking at the plate of untouched food from this afternoon. 

"You've been crying for hours," she said softly, but there was no pity in her tone—only understanding. 

"So?" I snapped, the bitterness in my voice surprising even me. "Why does everyone here care so much? Are you just waiting for me to get better so you can torture me?" My voice broke, and fresh tears welled up. I hated how weak I sounded, and how pathetic I felt. 

She didn't flinch at my outburst. Instead, she reached out and gently patted my hand. "I understand," she said calmly. 

I scoffed, pulling my hand away. "You don't understand anything." 

Her eyes softened, and for a moment, she seemed lost in her own memories. "Oh, but I do," she said quietly. "I was human once." 

Her words startled me. "What?" Her presence was steady, like a warm hearth on a cold night. 

"I was human before," she said simply, as though that explained everything. 

Her words caught me off guard. I blinked at her, unsure how to respond. "What do you mean?" I finally asked, my curiosity momentarily eclipsing my misery. 

"I was a human," she repeated. "Until a rogue werewolf bit me and left me for dead." Her voice was steady, but there was a hint of pain beneath it. "I had no idea what was happening to me. I was terrified, confused, and angry. I thought my life was over." 

I swallowed hard, my curiosity momentarily overpowering my sadness. 

"But this pack found me," she continued. "They saved me, took me in, and taught me how to survive. It wasn't easy—there were days I wanted to run, days I thought I'd never belong. But they never gave up on me." 

Her gaze grew distant, a small smile tugging at her lips. "And then I found my mate here. That turned my life upside down, in the best way possible. He was patient with me, helped me heal. The pack supported us every step of the way. They made me into who I am now." 

"You don't have to trust us yet," she added, her voice gentle. "But you do have to eat. You won't win any battles—not with yourself or anyone else—if you starve." 

She put the tray in my hands and glared at me until i took a bite. Reluctantly, I gave in as my stomach growled in agreement, betraying my stubbornness.