Chapter 7
1414 Words
DECLAN
I stare at Antony like he's lost his mind.
"The orphan? Aria, the girl I banished six years ago... is Dr. W?"
Antony nods slowly, his expression carefully neutral. "The scouts confirmed it twice, Alpha. Same address. Same location."
I shake my head. "That's impossible. There has to be a mistake."
"I thought the same thing," Antony admits. "But the surveillance team triple-checked. Every letter we've sent to Dr. W has been delivered to Aria Sinclair's residence. Every single one."
My wolf stirs uneasily, torn between excitement and confusion.
It can't be her. The quiet girl who worked at the pack clinic, who studied basic herbs in the orphanage—there's no way she could be the legendary healer everyone's been searching for. Dr. W is supposed to be experienced, skilled beyond measure, someone with years of practice and knowledge.
Aria was nobody. She had no training, no resources, no—
I stop myself.
That's not fair. And it's not true.
She had potential. My mother said so herself just hours ago. Aria studied healing, worked harder than anyone I knew, pushed herself to learn everything she could despite having nothing.
But this? This is different. This is—
"Should we still proceed with the recall order for Aria Sinclair?" Antony asks carefully.
I look up at him, momentarily thrown by the question.
My mouth opens, then closes.
I'm over her. I am. It's been six years. Six years of distance, of moving on, of accepting that what we had is dead and buried.
But even as I think it, unease coils tight in my chest.
"I'll handle it," I hear myself say. "I'll contact her directly."
Antony blinks. "You're going to call her yourself?"
"Yes." I pull out my phone before I can second-guess the decision. "If she really is Dr. W, then we need to approach this carefully. Respectfully."
That's the reason. The only reason.
It has nothing to do with the fact that I haven't heard her voice in six years.
I pull up the contact information the scouts provided and dial the number.
It rings once. Twice. Three times.
My heart pounds harder with each ring.
Four times. Five.
She's not going to answer.
Six times. Seven.
The call goes to voicemail.
I hang up without leaving a message.
My heart drops—heavy and cold, like a stone sinking into deep water.
"Alpha?" Antony's voice is quiet, almost hesitant. "What are your orders?"
I set my phone down on the desk and force my expression into something calm. Controlled.
"Forget about Aria Sinclair," I say flatly. "Focus only on Dr. W. Now that we have her address, we'll go in person. Show our sincerity. Make it clear we're serious about securing her services."
"And... Aria?"
"She's irrelevant." The words come out colder than I intend, but I don't take them back. "She's just an orphan who ignored a recall order. She has no place in my priorities anymore."
Antony nods slowly. "Understood, Alpha."
He leaves, and I'm alone in my office again.
I stare at my phone, at the call log showing her unanswered number.
She didn't pick up.
Why didn't she pick up?
I shove the thought away and turn back to the paperwork on my desk. There's work to do. Plans to make. My parents are dying, and I need Dr. W—whoever she is—to save them.
That's what matters.
Not Aria.
Not the girl I exiled six years ago.
But my thoughts keep drifting back to her anyway. No matter how hard I try to focus, her name keeps circling through my mind like a ghost I can't shake.
***
Three days later, I'm sitting in the back seat of a black sedan, watching the human world blur past the window.
A pack member is driving. Antony sits in the passenger seat beside him, occasionally checking his tablet for updates. Two other wolves are in the vehicle behind us—backup, just in case. We left pack territory hours ago, and the landscape has shifted from dense forest to rolling hills to the sprawling suburbs of human civilization.
This is the road that connects our world to theirs. The only road.
I stare out at the pavement stretching ahead of us, and an unwanted thought surfaces.
Is this the road she fled down?
I try to push it away, but it clings.
Six years ago, when she ran—did she take this exact route? Did she stumble through these same trees, terrified and alone, with the pack hunting her?
How is she now?
The question rises before I can stop it.
Has she moved on? Built a new life? After six years, she must have. People don't just stay frozen in the past.
My jaw tightens.
Could she have a family? A husband?
The thought hits me like a punch to the gut.
Children?
My wolf snarls violently, a possessive rage flaring so fast it makes my hands clench into fists.
I force it down. Force myself to breathe.
Is that why she ignored the summons? Because she has someone else now? Someone who matters more than an old recall order from a pack she left behind?
"Alpha, are you alright?" Antony glances at me, concern flickering across his face.
"I'm fine," I say curtly.
I'm not fine.
I'm sitting here imagining Aria with another man, imagining her laughing with him, living with him, raising children with him—
Stop.
I shut the thoughts down hard, refusing to let them take root.
This isn't jealousy. It's not. I don't care what she's doing or who she's with. I'm over her.
I have to be.
The road stretches on, and I stare out the window, trying to focus on anything else. But the thoughts keep creeping back, unwanted and relentless.
***
We're about an hour from her address when Antony suddenly slows the car.
"What is it?" I ask, snapping out of my thoughts.
He's staring ahead, his nostrils flaring slightly. "Do you smell that?"
I focus, and then I catch it.
Werewolf.
More specifically—werewolf pups.
My wolf immediately perks up, alert and curious.
The scent is coming from a car pulled over on the shoulder ahead of us. A small sedan with a flat tire.
"Stray wolves in the human world?" I say slowly. "That's rare."
"Almost unheard of," Antony agrees.
Most werewolves who live among humans are loners by choice, and they sure as hell don't have pups. Pups need a pack. They need structure, safety, territory.
Something about this doesn't sit right.
"Pull over," I say.
Antony eases the car onto the shoulder behind the sedan. I step out, my wolf pushing closer to the surface, instincts sharpening.
The scent grows stronger as I approach the car.
Three pups. Young, probably five or six years old.
I move closer and peer through the window.
Three small faces stare back at me—two girls and a boy. Their eyes are wide and curious, completely unafraid. One of the girls waves enthusiastically.
I blink.
There's something... familiar about them. Something I can't quite place.
The boy rolls down the window a c***k. "Hi, mister! Are you here to help?"
"Where's your mother?" I ask, my voice coming out rougher than I intended.
"She went to get help," the boy says seriously. "Our tire's flat. But she said to stay in the car and not talk to strangers."
"You're talking to me," I point out.
He grins. "You don't feel like a stranger."
The words hit me strangely. I stare at him, at the shape of his face, the color of his eyes.
Gray. Storm-gray.
Just like—
No.
I shake the thought away.
"She'll be back soon," one of the girls says brightly. "She just went to the gas station."
I nod slowly, still unsettled by the strange sense of familiarity radiating off these kids.
"Alright. You three stay put. We'll wait until she gets back."
"Okay!" The girl beams at me.
I step back from the car, my mind racing.
Who are these kids? Why do they feel so—
"Alpha."
Antony's voice cuts through my thoughts. He's staring down the road, his body going tense.
I turn.
A figure is walking toward us from the direction of the gas station. A woman, moving fast, her posture rigid with tension.
She's wearing a mask.
My wolf surges forward, recognition slamming into me like a freight train.
"You...?!"
- Writer
