Deadly Nightshade MXMXM

VI

After a while, I grew closer to Delores. She started opening up to me, sharing bits and pieces of her past, and I found solace in her stories. One evening, as we were closing up the bakery, she turned to me with a thoughtful expression.

"Azreal," she began, her voice gentle but serious, "I knew from the start that you were a wolf."

I looked at her in surprise. "You did?"

She nodded. "Yes. You see, I am one too, though my wolf never revealed itself. I'm one of the few whose wolf remains dormant. I've lived my life among humans, and they've accepted me as one of their own. I sensed your struggle, your need to hide, because I've felt it too."

Her confession left me speechless. I had always felt a peculiar connection to Delores, and now I understood why. "But you seem so at peace," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "How did you come to terms with it?"

She gave me a sad smile. "It wasn't easy. For a long time, I felt incomplete, like a part of me was missing. But I learned to accept it. I built a life here, found my own way to belong."

Her words resonated deeply with me. Despite being an omega, a status that had always made me feel inferior, I had never truly spoken to my wolf. I could sense him, feel his presence, but he remained silent, just out of reach. It was both comforting and frustrating, a constant reminder of what I was and what I couldn't fully become.

Days turned into weeks, and life in Moonstone settled into a steady rhythm. Working at the bakery brought me a sense of purpose, and Delores's company was a balm to my weary soul. But the sense of unease never fully left me. The encounter with the alpha and his betas lingered in the back of my mind, a constant reminder of the precariousness of my situation.

One evening, as I was cleaning up, Delores handed me a small, old book. "I think you should read this," she said softly. "It might help you understand your place in this world a bit better."

The book was a collection of stories and lore about wolves, their packs, and the laws that governed them. As I read through its pages, I found myself drawn deeper into the history and traditions of my kind. It was both fascinating and disheartening, reminding me of the rigid hierarchy that dictated our lives.

One passage, in particular, caught my eye. It spoke of a place where young wolves, especially those who struggled with their identity, were sent to learn, to be molded into their proper roles. It was a school, but the descriptions made it sound more like a training ground, a place of harsh lessons and even harsher punishments.

A chill ran down my spine as I read the accounts of those who had been sent there. It was a place where discipline was enforced through fear and pain, where wolves were broken down and rebuilt to fit the pack's needs. The thought of such a place filled me with dread.

That night, sleep eluded me. My mind was filled with dark thoughts, haunted by the stories I had read. As the first light of dawn began to filter through the curtains, I made a decision. I needed to know more about this school, to understand if it was a real threat or just a myth.

I spent the next few days discreetly gathering information, asking careful questions and doing research online whenever I had a moment alone. The more I learned, the more my fear grew. The school was real, and it was notorious among wolves for its brutal methods and the way it stripped away individuality, turning wolves into obedient servants of the pack.

One evening, as Delores and I were closing up the bakery, I decided to confide in her. "Delores, have you ever heard of a school where wolves are sent to be... reformed?" I asked hesitantly.

Her face paled, and she looked away, a flicker of pain crossing her features. "Yes," she said quietly. "I've heard of it. It's a place no one wants to go, Azreal. It's a last resort, a place where wolves are sent when they're deemed a threat to the pack's order."

Her words confirmed my worst fears. "Do you think the alpha might send me there?" I asked, my voice trembling.

She sighed deeply, her eyes filled with sorrow. "I don't know, Azreal. I truly don't. But you need to be careful. Stay out of trouble and keep your head down. Show them that you're no threat."

Despite her reassurances, a sense of impending doom settled over me. The town of Moonstone, which had once seemed like a sanctuary, now felt like a trap closing in around me. I continued my work at the bakery, but every interaction with the wolves in town was fraught with tension, each glance and whisper fueling my paranoia.

As the days turned darker and the nights more restless, I realized that I couldn't rely on hiding forever. I had to find a way to confront my past and my fears, to understand my wolf and my place in this unforgiving world. The school loomed large in my mind, a shadowy specter that threatened to consume me if I didn't find a way to stand against it.

My journey in Moonstone had started with a hope for a simple life, but it was clear now that simplicity was an illusion. The darkness within me was growing, and I could no longer ignore it. It was time to face the truth and fight for my future, no matter the cost.