The Wolf Within

Chapter Three: Echoes From the Past

I’ve barely slept. Every creak in the floor, every gust of wind brushing against the windows, has me jumping like prey being hunted.

There’s this heaviness in the air, like something ancient is breathing down my neck—and I felt it, deep in my bones. A wolf. But not just any wolf. An alpha.

I wrapped my cardigan tighter around myself as I stood by the kitchen window, staring out into the stillness of Willowridge. The streets looked the same. Peaceful. Ordinary. But nothing felt right anymore. It was like something dark had slipped through the cracks of my carefully built life.

Why was he here?

Wolves recognize their own, even after years apart. His presence lit something in me I hadn’t felt since I left home: fear. Raw and primal.

I thought I’d buried that part of myself.

Three years. That’s how long it’s been since I left the Frost Pack. Since I ran from my father, from the bloodlines and battles and burdens I never asked for.

I thought I was far enough away. I thought I’d erased that life completely. I was wrong.

I touched the small scar just below the corner of my right eye without thinking—an old mark, mostly faded now, but still there. A reminder. Not of pain, but of choice.

The night I walked away from everything. The night I told my father I’d never return.

(Ethan’s POV)

I watched Serena pace around the kitchen, a cup of tea in her hand trying to ease her anxiety. I could tell something was off but didn’t bother to pry. I never do.

Things weren’t the same between us and we both knew.

She was sweet, kind — never accusatory — but it was like there was this wall she didn’t even realize she’d built. She’d never really let me in.

(Serena’s POV)

I could feel Ethan’s eyes on me as I moved around the kitchen. Pretending to sleep, I didn’t bother to look.

I brought the mug to my lips, letting the steam rise and warm my face. Chamomile. Calming.

That night I dreamt of brown eyes, golden flakes dancing around, drawing me closer and closer.