But I don't have time to bask in that lightness, especially when I've had breakfast and feel energized for the day. I have a full day ahead of me, but it's not a daunting thought to work at the pack clinic.
It's what brings me fulfillment, and it feels like I'm meant to be there.
***
“Aren't you tired?” Dianna asks with a frown as she stands at the doorway, arms folded, looking more tired than I feel.
“No,” I shrug diffidently, smiling at her as I get to my feet. “But I would like a coffee.” I pause on my way to her, noticing the way she's watching me keenly. “What?”
Dianna unfolds her arms, then gestures toward me with one hand sweeping through the air from head to toe.
“Look at you, Sophie…” she whistles. “You're not tired. You're healing every single wolf that walks through these doors. You're like a blessing to Red Moon.”
I snort as I grab her arm and pull her toward the kitchen. “I am still me, you know?”
“Yeah, the new and improvedyou.You're actually pretty intimidating for a human. Except, you're not actually human, are you?”
“No!” I chuckle as I grab two coffee mugs while Dianna turns the machine on. “But…it's still taking some getting used to all of this.”
“You're a natural,” Dianna huffs. “It's like you were born in the valley.”
The aroma of rich coffee smells like a routine we've both gotten used to in such a short time, but it feels extremely natural as she passes me a mug. Clutching it with both hands, I close my eyes and inhale deeply, a memory of the staffroom at the hospital flashing through my mind.
As if on cue, Dianna asks, “Do you miss it? Your old life?”
I open my eyes, only for my brows to knit into a frown, and I shake my head slowly, almost hesitantly. “It's a strange thing. I mean, I had somewhat of a life out there. Friends—no—colleagues. And—” I break off with a sigh when I realize I didn't have much out there.
Work. Home. Rinse. Repeat.
I was merely existing, and the only time I ever felt real joy was when Damian and I had been dating.
I know I shouldn't put so much importance on a relationship, but from what I've learned about werewolves and fated mates, I understand now why the breakup hit me as hard as it did.
Dianna once explained what it was about, rejecting a fated mate. It's like a dagger to the heart, breaking the etheric cord that binds two souls.
It can even be fatal. And even if that's just theoretical, since fated mates were an unseen phenomenon, it almost felt deadly.
That's why the past two years were literal hell for me.
No human experiences that kind of pain.
But no human experiences the kind of love—
“No. I don't miss my old life,” I admit earnestly, feeling heat rise on my cheeks. I take a sip of my coffee, but Dianna doesn't stop watching me through narrowed eyes.
“Is it because of the valley, or because of Damian?”
My heart skips a nervous beat, and the heat on my cheeks rises to scorching levels. I want to avoid the question, but end up sighing instead.
“It's because of both,” I admit, biting my bottom lip as I turn away, facing the window now and watching as the man himself comes strolling toward the clinic cabin, two giggling kids in his arms, a smile on his face as he carries them into the clinic.
Right now, Damian appears to be the gentlest man I've ever seen, while his power, his sovereignty, remains quiet but present.
It's his most attractive trait—that quiet confidence which allows him to be supportive and lift others. He knows who he is, what he is, and there's no need for him to fight for dominance. He exudes that authority without even trying.
And my body’s reaction is a natural response to his presence, his mere existence.
I sigh as I turn back to Dianna, only to find her still watching me intently.
