The cabin is small and sparse, just like I remember it, but it has a roof, a couch, and walls to keep the world out. I lock the door behind me, sink onto the cushions, and rub the heels of my hands against my eyes.
I told her not to follow me. She didn’t. And now the magic has thrown us back together, whether we like it or not.
Chapter 4 - Skylar
I yank open the dresser drawer so hard it nearly comes off the rails.
Shirts. I need shirts. I grab a handful without looking at which ones and shove them into the duffel bag on my bed. Underwear from the next drawer down. A pair of jeans that might be too tight, but who cares. I’m not trying to look good for anyone. The emergency cash I keep hidden inside a hollowed-out book on my shelf—eight hundred dollars that felt like a fortune when I started saving it and now seems pathetically inadequate for starting a new life.
My hands won’t stop shaking.
I tell myself to pause, to breathe, to think about what I’m doing. But every time I close my eyes, I see Bryan’s face in the torchlight. I see his name on Elder Amelia’s lips. I hear the roar of the crowd celebrating a match that feels less like fate and more like cosmic punishment for sins I don’t remember committing.
The duffel bag gapes open on my bed, half-full and accusing. This is insane. I’m the senior healer at Silvercreek’s medical center. I have patients who depend on me, staff who look to me for guidance, and a life I’ve spent ten years building from the wreckage Bryan left behind.
And I’m about to throw it all away because I can’t stomach the thought of being bound to him.
I grab my toothbrush from the bathroom and toss it into the bag, followed by some deodorant. Then I go for the small first-aid kit I keep under the sink because old habits die hard, and you never know when someone might need stitches in themiddle of nowhere. My hands move on autopilot while my brain cycles through the same useless loop of panic and denial.
Bryan is back. Bryan is my match. Bryan is going to be my mate.
No. No, he’s not. Because I’m not going to be here when the sun comes up.
Just a few months ago, I sat in Fern’s living room with a cup of tea going cold in my hands and told her everything would be fine. She was terrified about being matched with Connor, convinced the lottery had made some kind of mistake. A human woman paired with a shifter? It didn’t make sense. The magic had to be wrong.
But I told her with absolute certainty that the magic doesn’t make mistakes and that you have to trust it.
I believed every single word.
Now the same magic has chained me to the man who shattered me at twenty years old, and I’m supposed to what? Trust that there’s a reason? Accept that fate has a plan, even when that plan feels like a cruel joke at my expense?
I zip the duffel closed and sling it over my shoulder. The weight settles against my hip, solid and real in a way that helps ground me. This is happening. I’m actually doing this.
The cottage is dark except for the lamp in my bedroom. I should turn it off and make the place look empty so no one comes checking on me too soon, but I can’t bring myself to walk back to the nightstand. Every second I spend in this house is another second someone might knock on my door with congratulations and questions about when the ceremony will be.
I ease the front door open and slip outside.
The night air carries the faint scent of pine and distant woodsmoke. Most of Silvercreek is probably still at the Hollow or heading home, gossiping about the latest match and speculating about when Bryan and I will complete the bond.
They have no idea I’m about to become a cautionary tale.
I stick to the shadows as I make my way through the back roads, avoiding the main streets where I might run into someone who recognizes me. Ruby texted multiple times while I was packing. Luna called twice. I ignored all of it. Whatever they want to say, whatever comfort or advice they think they can offer, it won’t change anything.
The houses thin out as I reach the edge of the developed area. I know this route better than I know the lines on my own palms. Years of emergency calls have taken me down this trail at all hours, rushing toward the eastern border to treat patrol wolves who ran into trouble they couldn’t handle alone.
I also know this is the least monitored section of the perimeter. Dylan focuses most of his security resources on the northern and western approaches, where the real threats have always come from. The eastern boundary is quiet and peaceful, which is exactly the kind of place where someone could slip across without anyone noticing until morning.
My boots crunch against fallen leaves as I head into the forest. The sounds of Silvercreek fade behind me with each step—no more distant voices, no more dogs barking at shadows, no more reminders of the life I’m walking away from.
Ten years. I’ve spent ten years proving I don’t need Bryan Dinac. Building a career, earning respect, becoming someone the pack depends on. And I did it all without him. Without anyone.
Find someone else,he told me that night under the oak tree.Someone who can actually give you a future.
Well, I did. I found myself.
And now the magic wants to take that away from me. It wants to tie me to a man who looked me in the eye and said whatever existed between us didn’t matter.
My wolf stirs beneath my skin, unhappy. She’s been agitated since the moment Amelia called Bryan’s name, pacing back and forth inside my chest like a caged animal. The mate bond we’ve both been trying to ignore came roaring back to life the second I saw him standing in the torchlight, and she hasn’t settled since.
