The morning light streamed through the thin curtains, casting a soft glow over the small room where Anne had been resting. The night had been long and restless, with memories she wished she could forget haunting her dreams.
A gentle knock on the door pulled Anne from her thoughts. The door creaked open, and Emily stepped inside, her expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. When she saw Anne sitting up in bed, her eyes widened in surprise.
"You're awake!" Emily exclaimed, her gaze sweeping over Anne. "And you've healed so quickly! How is that even possible?"
Anne offered a small, strained smile. "I've always been a fast healer. And honestly, I wasn't that badly injured."
Emily frowned, her eyes narrowing as if she couldn't quite believe it. But before she could press further, Anne swung her legs over the side of the bed, the movement smooth and graceful despite the ordeal she had been through.
"Thank you," Anne said, her voice quiet but sincere. "For everything. For the help, the clothes, and the shelter. But I think it's time I leave. I don't want to trouble you any more than I already have."
She stood up, smoothing down the borrowed clothes, and began gathering her few belongings. Emily watched her, still clearly unsettled by how quickly Anne had recovered, but before she could say anything, the door opened again, and Heather walked in.
"Are you sure you're well enough to leave?" Heather asked, her voice warm and filled with concern. She approached Anne with a kindness that made Anne's heart ache—a kindness she hadn't experienced in a long time.
Anne hesitated, the weight of Heather's gaze almost too much to bear. "I'll be fine," she replied, her voice a little too quick, a little too forced. "I don't want to be a burden."
"Nonsense," Heather said, waving off the notion. "You're no burden. You've been through something terrible, and it's clear you could use some time to recover properly. Why don't you stay a little longer? There's no rush."
The offer was tempting—more tempting than Anne wanted to admit. But she knew she couldn't stay. The longer she remained here, the more danger she brought to these kind strangers. They didn't know who—or what—she really was.
"Really, I appreciate it," Anne said, trying to keep her voice steady. "But I don't want to put you at risk."
Heather's eyes softened, and she reached out, placing a gentle hand on Anne's arm. "What happened to you, dear? Were you assaulted? If you need help, we can go to the police. No one should go through something like this alone."
Anne felt her throat tighten, panic bubbling up inside her. How could she explain the truth? that she was a wolf and that two packs were trying to kill her? That her very existence was a threat to anyone who sheltered her?
She forced herself to smile, a sad, resigned expression that she hoped would suffice. "It's complicated," Anne began, her mind racing to come up with a plausible lie. "I'm an orphan. My parents died when I was young, and I've been on my own for a long time."
Heather's expression became even more sympathetic, her grip on Anne's arm tightening slightly. "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that."
Anne nodded, swallowing hard as she continued her story. "I had a boyfriend, but things didn't end well. He was abusive, and when I tried to leave, he got angry. He's been trying to hurt me ever since."
The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, but it was the only way to protect them. Heather's eyes filled with understanding, and she pulled Anne into a gentle hug.
"You don't have to go through this alone," Heather whispered, her voice soft and reassuring. "We can help you, protect you. No one should be treated like that."
Anne felt a lump form in her throat, guilt and gratitude warring within her. She wished she could accept their help and wished she could stay in this warm, safe place where kindness was freely given. But she knew it wasn't possible.
Pulling back from the hug, Anne forced another smile. "Thank you, Heather. But I've been on my own for a long time. I'm used to it. I just need to keep moving."
Heather studied her for a long moment, as if searching for any sign that Anne might change her mind.
"Anne," Heather began softly, her voice tinged with emotion. "I want you to know that I understand what you're going through more than you might think."
Anne turned to look at her, curiosity flickering in her eyes. Heather's gaze was distant for a moment, as if recalling a painful memory. "My husband was abusive. An alcoholic. For years, I tried to make it work, thinking things would change, but he never did. Eventually, I found the strength to leave him, for my sake and for Emily's."
Anne hadn't expected Heather to share something so personal, but the sincerity in her voice made it impossible to turn away.
Heather continued, her tone softening even more. "When I look at you, I see someone who's been through so much. You remind me of Emily, and I can't just leave you to fend for yourself. You deserve better than that, Anne."
Anne blinked, the sudden wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm her. She shook her head, trying to keep her resolve intact. "Heather, I appreciate everything you've done, but I don't want to be a burden. You've already helped me so much—"
Heather gently interrupted, placing a comforting hand on Anne's arm. "You're not a burden, Anne. You're someone who needs a little help, and there's nothing wrong with accepting it."
There was a brief silence as Heather's words hung in the air. Finally, Heather asked, "What are your plans, then? If you're determined to leave, where will you go?"
Anne bit her lip, uncertainty gnawing at her. She hadn't thought that far ahead, not really. She had been so focused on escaping, on staying ahead of the danger, that she hadn't allowed herself to think about what came next. "I guess I'll try to find a job," she said hesitantly. "Something to keep me going."
Heather's eyes lit up with an idea, and she smiled warmly. "How about you come work for me?"
Anne blinked in surprise, taken aback by the unexpected offer. "Work for you?"
Heather nodded, her smile widening. "Yes. My parents own a small café, but they're getting too old to manage it on their own. I've been planning to move in with them to help out, but I could use an extra pair of hands. It's nothing fancy, just a cosy little place, but it's home. Why don't you come with me? You could help out at the café, and in return, you'd have a safe place to stay."
Anne's mind raced, the offer both tempting and terrifying. A part of her longed for the stability and safety that Heather was offering—a place where she could hide, where no one would find her. But there was also the fear of getting too close, of putting these kind people in danger.
She hesitated, her thoughts swirling. "I don't know. Where are you moving to?"
Heather's smile remained, though it softened slightly. "Alaska. It's a small town, quiet, and far from here. A fresh start for both of us."
Alaska. The word echoed in Anne's mind. It was so far away, so remote. Perhaps it was exactly what she needed—a place where no one knew her, where she could disappear and finally escape the shadows of her past. There was only one wolf pack in Alaska, and if she was careful. She could avoid them.
But was it right to accept? Could she really uproot herself and trust these strangers with her life?
Heather squeezed Anne's arm reassuringly. "You don't have to decide right now. But think about it, Anne. You don't have to face everything alone. Let us help you. Let me help you."
Anne looked into Heather's kind eyes, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt the smallest glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this could be her chance at a new life—a life free from fear, from running.