Chapter 4

Rain drummed against the window, and the memories came flooding back.

I was sitting alone on the floor of my new apartment, surrounded by unpacked boxes. It'd been three days since I left Damian, but the dull ache from our mate bond was only getting stronger.

Damn werewolf biology.

I closed my eyes, and my mind went back five years, to when we first met.

The Werewolf Academy's annual hunt. I was the only one from the Lost Moonshadow Pack, and I'd already won three years straight. It was a game of strategy, not just brute force.

In the final round, I was up against the legendary Alpha heir—Damian Nightclaw.

"Heard you're pretty smart, orphan girl from Moonshadow." He was standing in the middle of the arena, his eyes glinting gold. "But smarts don't mean squat against real power."

I just smiled. "Really? Let's see about that."

In that match, I tricked him into a trap and won. Everyone was stunned. Nobody could believe a girl from some outlier pack could beat the Nightclaw Alpha heir.

Damian wasn't mad or anything. Instead, he just laughed and held out his hand. "You're something else, Elara."

That was the first time he'd ever said my name.

After that, Damian was like a different person. He started showing up outside my classroom for all sorts of reasons, bringing precious herbs and game—the werewolf version of flowers and chocolates, I guess.

I passed these valuable supplies on to the elderly and weak in our pack who needed them most.

A week later, Damian found me, looking a bit conflicted. "You gave away everything I brought you?"

"They needed it more." I pulled a ledger out of my bag. "Here’s the record of who got what. All the pack members who received something are really grateful for your generosity."

Damian stared at me. "So, you used my gifts to win people over, shouldn't you at least buy me a glass of moonwine for it?"

"If you wanted a drink, you could've just said so." I closed the ledger. "No need to trade supplies for it."

He looked stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Elara, you’re really something else."

That night, we drank moonwine together on the hill behind the academy, watching the starlight scatter across the lake. Damian told me about his family history, how amazing his older brother, Alaric, was, and how he was always trying so hard to surpass him.

"You don’t need to be him," I said softly. "You just need to be the best version of yourself."

Damian tilted his head, looking at me, his golden eyes shimmered in the moonlight. "I feel it... some kind of connection. Between us."

I felt it too. That night, the threads of fate began to weave us together.

The memory was broken by a knock on the door. I crept closer to the door, a little nervous. Then I smelled it—that perfume I knew. Seraphina.

"I know you're in there, Elara," her voice came through the door. "I just want to talk."

I hesitated for a second, then opened the door.

Seraphina stood there, looking even more beautiful than she had at the coming-of-age ceremony, but there was less of that proud look in her eyes.

"Can I come in?"

I stepped aside and let her in.

She looked around my simple new apartment. "So, you just left the Nightclaw mansion for... this?"

"Just get to the point," I said, pouring her a glass of water.

Seraphina took the glass but didn't drink. "I came to tell you, Damian and I... we called off the pre-bonding."

I raised an eyebrow. "And what's that got to do with me?"

"Because ever since you left, he hasn't been himself." She looked me right in the eyes. "He's a mess, has nightmares, and often calls out your name in his sleep."

I stayed quiet.

"At first, I thought he chose me because he loved me." Seraphina let out a dry laugh. "Now I get it. He was just... seeing your shadow in me. Or maybe, a shadow he thought he could control."

"So, why are you telling me all this?"

"Because sometimes, fate is more persistent than we think."She got up to leave, then stopped at the door. "If you'd just give him a chance... maybe he'd change."

I scoffed. "He's had tons of chances."

Seraphina looked at my right hand. "I heard you have an old injury on your wrist... you got it because of him, didn't you?"

I clenched my right fist without thinking. That old wound started to ache again.

I saw Seraphina out, then called the doctor. With the partner bond broken, the old injury was getting worse and worse.

"Elara," the old doctor sounded anxious on the other end. "You need to come in. Your wrist might be worse than you think."