Every corner, every creak in the floor seemed to echo memories of us, moments that now felt like sharp claws digging into my heart.
I took a deep breath and stepped inside.
The moonlight streamed through the large windows, casting a glow over familiar furniture and keepsakes. There were silly little trinkets—matching mugs with cheesy wolf-themed designs, a framed photo of us at the pack’s annual bonfire, and even a pair of charms shaped like paw prints that supposedly glowed when we were close to each other. They’d all once meant so much. Now they felt like anchors pulling me into a sea of regret.
As I stood there, staring at those memories, a wave of exhaustion hit me. It wasn’t just physical—it was the kind of tiredness that seeped into your bones after fighting for someone who stopped fighting for you.
My mind drifted back to when I first met Asher, back when things were so different.
It had been years ago, during one of my late-night runs in wolf form. I’d gone deeper into the forest than usual, my paws crunching over leaves, the air thick with the scent of pine. That’s when I heard them—the low growls, the sharp snarls. Rogues.
I barely had time to react before they charged. There were three of them, their eyes glowing with hunger and desperation. My wolf fought back fiercely, but I was outnumbered and cornered. Just when I thought it was over, a blur of dark fur crashed into the rogues, sending them flying.
It was Asher; my brother best friend. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t falter. His wolf was relentless, taking them down one by one until they fled, yelping into the night.
After shifting back, he’d wrapped his jacket around me, his voice low but soothing. "You okay?"
I nodded, still shaken, and he smiled—a soft, lopsided grin that made my heart skip a beat. "Stick closer to the pack borders next time. I don’t want to have to rescue you again."
That was the start of everything. Asher became my protector, my confidant. He had this way of making me feel safe, like nothing could touch me as long as he was around. I remembered the nights we’d spent under the stars, talking about dreams and pack life, his arm slung casually over my shoulder. The way he’d always pull me close during bonfires, his warmth chasing away the night’s chill.