The Reluctant Path

Part 5

Elara's POV

As I brushed through my wavy orange hair, now long and silky, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. My green eyes, vibrant and expressive, reflected a mix of excitement and a hint of nervousness as I got ready for school. Over the years, I'd grown into a more refined version of myself, with the freckles across my nose and the mole at the side still giving me a youthful charm. I looked so much like her-my birth mother. Only for the freckles and moles that marked me as slightly different. Every time I saw her face in the photo inside the locket, it was like staring at an older, more serene version of myself.

I pulled on a fitted denim jacket over a light pink blouse, pairing it with dark jeans and my favorite boots. Around my neck hung the silver locket, the one with a photo of my birth mother and me inside. It was a gift from Alpha Roderick, given on my seventeenth birthday last year, a day that still lingered in my mind with bittersweet clarity. After presenting me with the locket, he took me for a trip and it turned out, it was a trip to my mother's grave.

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Flashback

"This is your mother," Alpha Roderick had said, his voice soft yet imbued with a profound sadness. His eyes, usually so steady and commanding, were filled with a rare vulnerability. They glistened slightly in the dim light, reflecting the weight of the words he was about to share."We tried our best to look for her but we were too late," he continued, his tone heavy with regret. His usually stern expression softened into something almost pained as if he was grappling with a deep-seated sorrow he had kept hidden.

"She brought light to this pack, Elara. And that light is you."

His gaze lingered on the gravestone, which was meticulously maintained despite the encroaching overgrowth and the few dried flowers left behind. The care given to it was a poignant reminder that the pack continued to honor her as a symbol of a life that once held the chance of being lived with me. It was a tribute to a woman who had lived a normal human life, a stark contrast to the extraordinary existence I had come to learn about since starting high school.

"If she had survived, would you have allowed me to live with her?" I asked, my voice tinged with curiosity.

Alpha Roderick studied my reaction carefully before answering. "Yes—" he hesitated, then continued, "Well, not exactly." He paused, choosing his words with care. "I might have offered her a place to stay temporarily."

I nodded in understanding. After all, we were human, and he had to protect his pack and territory. Learning about werewolves, I had come to realize that they were not very accepting of outsiders-except for me, perhaps.

I stood there, my hands resting gently on the cold stone, feeling the weight of my thoughts. Since starting high school, I had been grappling with the reality of living as a normal human, devoid of the extraordinary senses and abilities that defined those around me. I couldn't help but think that if I had been able to live with my mother, I might not have felt so isolated and out of place.

But these were thoughts I kept to myself. If Alpha Roderick ever knew, I feared he would be furious or deeply disappointed in me. So I stood in silence, the lump in my throat a physical manifestation of my loneliness and the painful longing for a different past.

As I looked up at him, seeing his green eyes that mirrored my own, I tried to piece together the past. I remembered hearing about how he had once been a very traditional leader, resistant to human ways and modernization. It was only after I began living with them, as the pack adapted to human norms, that I saw the significant improvements: their security had notably enhanced, and he had even sent some of the warriors to learn about IT. This change showed how embracing new ideas had made the pack more efficient and better prepared.