I shook my head, snapping myself out of the memory. That Asher felt like a lifetime ago. The man who had protected me, who had laughed with me, wasn’t the same one who now believed every lie Celeste fed him.
Unable to sleep, I grabbed a large cardboard box and started packing. The mugs, the charms, the blanket we’d fought over on countless cold nights—it all went into the box. Every item felt heavier than it should, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.
By the time the sun rose, the place barely looked like mine. It was stripped of everything that had made it feel warm and personal. The colorful pillows were gone, the pictures packed away, the trinkets boxed up. The rooms were plain and cold, just like his absence.
Asher didn’t come home that night. Or the next. Days blurred into weeks, and the only sounds that broke the silence were my pen scratching across paper as I worked on my designs. At first, I missed his presence, but over time, I started to feel something else: relief.
I buried myself in my work, sketching late into the night. My wolf stirred occasionally, restless and aching, but even she knew it was time to move on.
One evening, when the weight of everything felt unbearable, I decided to reach out one last time. He deserved that—a chance for closure. I dialed his number, and it rang several times before going straight to voicemail. Moments later, a message buzzed in:
[If you’re god-damn ready to apologize to Celeste, then maybe we can talk. Otherwise, don’t bother.]
I stared at the screen, his words slamming into me like a rogue’s attack. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. That was it, then.
The night before I planned to leave, I packed the last of my things into a suitcase. The pack house looked foreign now—bare and cold, stripped of every memory I’d poured into it. But in the emptiness, I felt a strange sense of relief.
At dawn, I walked out the door for the last time. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scents of the forest surrounding the pack lands. My wolf paced in my mind, uneasy but resolute. This was it.
Just as I reached the pack borders, my phone buzzed. It was my birthday, and messages started pouring in.
[Happy birthday! Hope this year is full of joy and success.]
[Wishing you strength and happiness.]
[You deserve the best—don’t settle for less!]
I smiled faintly. Each message reminded me that my life wasn’t ending here—it was just beginning.