Asrai

Chapter 2:Present

The wind whipped through my unruly dark alabaster curls, the crisp mountain air grazing my cherry-walnut skin like a whispered warning. I adjusted the rear view mirror as I hugged the curve of the mountain road, fully aware I was flying past Denver’s speed limits. But today, my adrenaline was my medicine—my reckless remedy for the knots twisting in my stomach.

It was the day of the Annual Monaco Family Baazar, and I was making my grand entrance. Cue the sarcasm.

I cast a quick glance at the looming clouds and smiled—softly, with a hint of sorrow. This would be the last time, at least for a while, that I’d see the human sky in its raw, unfiltered form. No glamour. No enchantment. Just the real thing. It was simple, yes, but achingly beautiful in its honesty. The storm clouds rumbled overhead, their darkness pressing down, and in that bleak hush, I felt a faint, sorrowful kinship with the gloom..Most people shut their windows when the storm rolls in. But not me. I leaned into it. I welcomed the wild weather—the wind, the rain, the electric tension in the air. Stormy days felt like home.

As the sky darkened above, I murmured a soft thank you to God.

If nothing else, my time at school taught me to have faith. I was no longer who I used to be—now a reformed Christian, grounded in the quiet certainty that Christ hears and answers prayers. Today, my prayer was simple: just let me make it through. As the words settled, a sigh escaped me, unburdened and honest.

Today marked my reluctant return. After years away, I was heading back home—not by choice, but by command. The summons had arrived a month prior, tucked inside an envelope with just seven words on cream colored paper: Time to come home, my river wolf.

Its loving tone didn’t fool me. Beneath the softness lay a demand I couldn’t ignore. There was no room for refusal. Not this time. My freedom had come to a crashing and crying end. Having spent the last five years in Seattle, soaking in every ounce of independence college had to offer. I enjoyed every bit of my freedom and had hoped as my graduation came closer my past would continue to forget I even existed.

But hope, sometimes, fell hard. That fateful day resurfaced in my mind, and I couldn’t help but frown. Deep down, I had always known that staying away forever wasn’t an option. As much as I longed to build a life far from the weight of that sorrow filled town and the people who filled it, my absence had never truly been mine to decide. To them, my return was inevitable. A Non-negotiable.

It was never truly safe beyond the town’s protection. The risk of being exposed—and the strain on the eye—was too great. Honestly, it was a miracle I’d been allowed to stay away this long. I always thought they’d drag me back the moment I left, five years ago. But no one came. No one called. Not even Gran. They gave me the space I asked for, and yet the silence echoed louder than I ever imagined. It was my heart's desire—but the sting of truly thinking I was unwanted, unthought about by my family, my pack, cut deeper than I was prepared for. In those first few months away, I cried myself to sleep more nights than I care to admit. The distance left room for doubt, and with each passing day, the urge to go back grew stronger. I almost did. I’d convinced myself to return, face whatever consequences awaited me, and embrace the shame I carried like a second skin. I would embrace my shame whole heartedly. Continue to let myself be the dust beneath their heels—unseen and "unworthy".

It wasn’t until that unexpected encounter with Casey that I felt, for the first time, as if God had acknowledged my quiet determination. My will to rise beyond what was expected of me. It was as if He had smiled on my resolve—and finally, things began to shift—from something heavy to something quietly joyful. Casey had a way of pulling people in, and soon I found myself surrounded by new friends, new chances, and a sense of belonging I hadn’t realized I was missing.

We became a tribe—Casey and I, along with the twin brothers, Lucas and Elias. They were our late-night co-conspirators, our muscles when furniture needed moving, our dates when we didn’t want to go alone, and our protectors when the guys at the bars got too beside themselves. Greek by heritage, with olive-toned skin and athletic builds, curly dark hair and flirtatious smiles, they were walking chaos and charm. More than anything, they made us laugh—deep, breathless laughter that stitched us together like family. They became the family I never had. Casey was the sister I’d always longed for, and the boys—Elias and Lucas—were the brothers I never knew I needed. From the moment we met, we were inseparable, bound together like threads in a t apestry. We gave them advice on girls, listened to their secrets, and shared our own. Nothing was off-limits between us.

Well—almost nothing.

There was one truth I kept buried deep: that I'd never share with them

I wasn’t from this world.