As I boarded the plane, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the final chapter of my life here. It wasn’t just the end of my relationship with Eros. It was the end of everything. I didn’t belong here anymore, not in the pack, not in this house. Not with him.
As I took my seat and strapped myself in, my thoughts drifted. I could feel the weight of my decision settling on my chest. It wasn’t just the fire I had set. It was the life I was leaving behind.
Then, something caught my attention. On the large screen in the airport terminal, a news report flashed. The royal family was making headlines. It was a story about the king and queen searching for their real daughter—their stolen daughter.
I froze. The royal family had been searching for their real daughter for over 20 years. She was taken from them right after birth, and they had never stopped looking for her. They claimed to have seen a birthmark on her left wrist—a sign of her true identity.
I glanced down at my own left wrist, the wrist where I had always known there was a small mark, a crescent-shaped birthmark. My mind raced, but I quickly shook my head. No, it couldn’t be. It was just a coincidence, wasn’t it?
But my thoughts couldn’t settle. I kept staring at the screen, my heart pounding. I ignored the thought, pushing it aside. There was no way it was true. It was just some random coincidence, a random birthmark. Before I could think about it any further, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced at the screen, and my heart sank.
Eros.
I refused to answer.
The buzzing intensified. The messages came in, flooding my phone. “Our house is on fire. Are you in the house? Answer me immediately. What’s going on?”
Then another one. “I knew you weren’t in the house. Where are you? Come back now. Daisy’s suddenly so ill. I heard you have the Moonstone. You can help her. You need to come back right now.”
I almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Still asking for the Moonstone? Still asking me to sacrifice everything for them?They hadn’t changed, and they never would. They were just using me.
The next message came, more frantic than the others. “What’s with the divorce agreement? I don’t remember signing this. What’s going on? Listen, I can explain. Come back. I can explain everything.”
I scoffed. Explain? Now he wanted to explain?