ll

olding. The house is quiet, not even the creak of a floorboard or the

in my defiance and aware of my plans. The moon is my only compan

started hatching this plan, an

o refill it with essentials-a change of clothes, some toiletries, and a few snacks. I r

like an e

ag. The cold steel feels heavy in my hand before I let it go, a grim pro

ure of my mother, her smile forever caught in a happier moment, long before she was

e. A lump forms in my throat, but I push it down. There's no room for weakness now. A si

window. My hand hovers over the latch, trembling. A voice in my he

een packs. And what about my father? Would he see this as the ultimate bet

them all, trading their

ulling away from the latch as if it were hot. But then, a surge of emoti

n and the unknown, the unknown beck

done, the window pushed open. Cool air floods the roo

pen window, landing lightly on the balls of my feet. The world outsi

de, to adhere to the comfort of conformity. But my resolve snaps me back to

ng the manicured lawns and elegant sculptures that have always signified home

s a natural boundary to our territory. Once I cross that, I'l

rimeter, their laughter riding the wind. The scent of their humanity laced with their wolfish undertones brushes pas

ly in my chest I'm convinced they can hear it- and they would if they weren't talking so much. Then they pass by,

it-another presence. It's neither human nor

equipped to seek and find. If anyone could locate me, it would be

hallow and quick. Through the gaps in the foliage, I see a figure approaching. He's m

ed trackers. He pauses, lifting his head, and I kno

arts across Victor's path. Startled, he looks in the direction of

reats in the opposite direction. I suppress a sigh of reli

he forest, but I've barely taken ten steps w

hat are y

close, and drenched in a soft-sp

from?" he asks, steppi

intentions. All I find is an odd blend of sadness and understa

illed with desperation, hoping I am not giving m

o happy endings," he warns, shaking his head. "This wil

, something flickers in his eyes, but then it's gone. "My father doesn't need me for anything but t

adow. "I can't stop you, but remember,

rkness as quietly as he came. I'm left standing there, my heart

genda here? But I have no time to t

llows the moonlight, but my wolf's instincts guide me through the tangled underbrush. My footsteps are

l fills the air, an emotional aria that speaks of farewells and new beginnings. With that, I face forwar

edom, or something else entirely-I'm ready to face it. My escape might not have th