Torn Between Destinies

Chapter 27: Chapter Twenty Seven

I waited.

I gave him one more chance.

I turned back after a few steps, tears stinging my eyes, and I asked again—quiet, fragile.

"Was it more than once?"

Darius looked at me.

And said nothing.

No words. No lies. No apologies.

Just silence.

A silence that screamed louder than any howl, louder than any fight we’d ever had.

I broke.

Something inside me shattered.

A sharp breath escaped my lips as I stepped back from him. My arms wrapped around myself, as if I could hold the pieces together. But I was already falling apart.

"Okay," I whispered.

His brows furrowed. "Luciana—"

"No," I said, voice shaking. "You had your chance to fight for us. To deny it. To reach for me. But you didn’t."

He reached out, a slight movement. "Please—"

I turned and ran.

Fast.

Faster than I ever had.

I ran from the warrior grounds, from the lights, from the people who would ask too many questions. I ran from his scent. From his silence. From the part of me that still loved him.

The forest welcomed me.

Dark, cold, wild.

The moment I crossed into the trees, I shifted.

Bones cracked. Fur burst through skin. My body stretched and reshaped, and the pain was nothing compared to what my heart was going through.

My wolf sprinted.

I didn’t think. I didn’t stop.

I howled.

Loud. Raw. Broken.

The sound echoed through the woods like a wounded cry, and I didn’t care who heard it.

I ran until the world blurred around me. Until the scent of pine and earth filled my lungs. Until the wind tore through my fur and numbed the ache inside.

Still, I couldn’t escape it.

His silence.

His betrayal.

I slowed near the edge of the river, paws trembling. My legs gave out, and I collapsed into the dirt, chest heaving.

Everything felt wrong.

I’d crossed worlds for him. For us. I’d risked everything to bring my mother and sister back. I’d believed we would rebuild, that he’d wait for me.

But he hadn’t.

And now I was alone.

The moon glowed high above, watching me like it always did. But I didn’t feel like its child anymore.

I felt like a shadow.

A discarded thing.

Footsteps crunched nearby. My ears twitched, and I rose fast, growling low in my throat.

But it wasn’t danger.

It was Amira.

Her scent was calm, steady. She didn’t come closer, just stood a few feet away, watching me.

"I heard your howl," she said softly.

I shifted back, breathing hard. My skin was damp with sweat and dew, my body shaking.

"You shouldn’t be out here alone," she said.

"I don’t want anyone," I replied, voice hoarse.

"I’m not just anyone," she said. "I’m your friend."

My eyes met hers, and I let out a shaky breath. "He didn’t deny it."

Amira’s face fell.

I swallowed. "He let me walk away. He didn’t even try to explain."

She walked over slowly, kneeling beside me. "I’m sorry."

"I feel stupid," I whispered. "I kept waiting. Hoping. And the whole time, he was—he was with her."

Amira placed a hand on my shoulder. "You’re not stupid. You’re brave. You fought for love. That’s never wrong."

I stared at the river. The moonlight danced over its surface, taunting me with how calm it looked compared to the storm inside me.

"I don’t even know who I am anymore," I said.

"Yes, you do," Amira said. "You’re Luciana. The girl who crossed into the human world to save her family. The wolf who brought a prophecy to life. The Luna who howls even when her heart is breaking."

I clenched my jaw. "He broke me, Amira."

"No," she said gently. "He cracked you. But you’re still whole. You’re still standing."

I looked down at my hands, still trembling. "I don’t want to love him anymore."

"You don’t have to," she replied. "You just have to love yourself more."

We sat in silence after that. Just the sound of the river. The wind. The leaves rustling above us.

And my heart... trying to beat again.

"I need time," I whispered.

"Take all the time you need," Amira said.

I stood up slowly. "Can you stay with Kiani tonight?"

"Of course."

"I just... I can’t go back yet. Not to that house. Not to him."

She nodded. "I’ll take care of her. You take care of you."

I gave her a small nod and shifted again, letting the wolf take over.

This time, I didn’t run.

I walked.

Let the pain stretch with every step.

Let the broken howl inside me echo across the trees.

Because even broken, I was still a wolf.

And I would heal.

Eventually.

----

The sky was gray when I returned.

Not the fierce gray of a storm, but the quiet kind—muted, heavy, like the world itself was tired. My limbs ached from the cold. My thoughts were quieter now, dulled by the silence of the woods and the long hours I’d spent alone.

I hadn’t planned on going back so soon. But Kiani needed me. And deep down, I missed the scent of home—even if it wasn’t the same anymore.

I slipped into my room through the side door, avoiding the main house. I didn’t want to run into Darius. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

The room was still just as I left it. But something was different.

A letter sat on my bed.

No name. No seal. Just folded parchment, slightly creased, placed with care.

I stared at it, heart racing. My fingers hovered over it like it might burn me. A part of me wanted to toss it away without reading. Another part—smaller, shakier—needed to know.

I picked it up.

The parchment was warm from the sun that had slipped through the window earlier. I unfolded it, hands trembling.

And I saw his handwriting.

Darius.

I didn’t breathe as I read.

---

Luciana,

If you’re reading this, it means I didn’t find the courage to speak. Not in time. Not before the damage was done.

I deserve your silence.

I deserve the way you looked at me—like you didn’t know me anymore.

Because I became a stranger to you.

And to myself.

When you left to the human world, I told myself I’d wait. I told everyone else the same. But as the moons passed, as the days turned longer without your scent, something in me twisted. I felt... abandoned.

I hate myself for saying that.

You were out there fighting for your family. You crossed a world for them.

But I was here. Drowning in uncertainty. Losing grip on who I was without you beside me.

And then she came.

Neralie.

I won’t lie to you.

There was one night. Only one.

And every second of it felt like betrayal—like I was clawing open a wound that had barely begun to heal.

But it wasn’t about her.

It was about the void inside me I couldn’t explain. The ache. The fear that you’d come back changed. That you wouldn’t look at me the same.

And when you did return...

You were stronger.

Brighter.

More powerful than ever.

And I felt smaller. Unworthy. Like I hadn’t earned the right to stand beside you anymore.

So I pushed you away.

I thought it would protect you. I thought if I kept my distance, you wouldn’t see how broken I’d become.

But all I did was hurt you.

And that... that I will never forgive myself for.

I don’t expect you to come back. I don’t expect forgiveness.

But I needed you to know the truth.

I still love you.

I never stopped.

Even when I failed you.

Even now, when I don’t deserve a second chance.

Yours always,

Darius

---

I dropped the letter.

The parchment fluttered to the floor, silent and soft—too soft for the storm inside me.

I sat down hard on the edge of the bed, staring at the space in front of me like it would offer answers.

My heart thudded in my chest, unsure whether to break again or begin to mend.

He hadn’t denied it because he was ashamed.

Not because he didn’t care.

He was scared.

Just like me.

I pressed a hand to my lips, breathing in slow.

Neralie.

I’d heard the name. A female warrior from another pack who’d come to Thornridge during the border long time ago. She’d left soon after. I never gave it thought. Until now.

One night.

Only one.

I could still feel the sting. The betrayal. But now I also felt something else.

Grief.

For what we lost.

For how we both hurt each other in different ways.

The door creaked behind me.

I turned sharply.

It was Kiani. Her wild curls framed her small face, and her eyes—so much like Aira’s—were wide.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly.

I folded the letter quickly and wiped at my eyes. "I’m fine."

She frowned. "You look like you’re not."

I reached out and pulled her close. She climbed onto the bed beside me, tucking herself under my arm.

"I just miss things," I whispered.

"Like what?"

"Like how simple things used to be," I said. "When love didn’t hurt."

She was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Is this about Darius?"

I blinked. "Why do you think that?"

"Because you cry his name in your sleep sometimes."

My breath caught.

"Oh."

"It’s okay," she said, snuggling into me. "I think you still love him. Even if he made you sad."

I kissed her hair. "Maybe I do. Maybe that’s what makes it hard."

She didn’t answer. She just held me tighter.

Later that night, when she had fallen asleep, I read the letter again.

And again.

Each time, the words cut a little less.

Each time, I found pieces of the man I loved between the lines.

But I still didn’t know what to do.

Could I forgive him?

Did I want to?

Would loving him again mean losing myself?

I folded the letter and placed it in my drawer, deep beneath spare cloth and old memories.

For now, I would carry the ache.

But maybe...

Just maybe...

I didn’t have to carry it alone forever.