CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
A shiver runs through me, not from cold but from the raw vulnerability that comes with sharing my deepest scars. Gina's eyes, usually so full of mischief and rebellion, now soften with empathy as she waits for me to unravel the threads of my past.
"Being a healer... it's a rare gift," I begin, my voice barely above a whisper, as if the trees themselves might eavesdrop on my confession. "But in my pack, it was a curse."
Gina leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees, our hands almost touching atop the mossy rock we've claimed as our confessional in the heart of the forest. The sunlight filters through the canopy, casting dappled shadows that dance across her face, mirroring the flicker of emotions in her eyes.
"They feared what they couldn't understand," I conti
