The Chosen One •

8

✨ Isabel ✨

The house was quiet when I got back inside after talking to Kun, the faint hum of conversation and movement coming from deeper inside. I rubbed my arms against the chill, my face tight from the dried tears that still stained my cheeks. I hadn't even looked at myself in a mirror, too preoccupied with everything swirling in my head.

As I stepped into the hallway, Mr. Ito emerged from one of the side rooms, his imposing frame filling the space. His sharp gaze landed on me, softening slightly as he took in my appearance.

"Isabel," he said, his voice calm but curious. "Are you all right?"

I hesitated, the lump in my throat growing heavier. I nodded quickly, my movements jerky and unconvincing.

His dark eyes narrowed slightly, and he sighed. "Come with me." He gestured toward his office, already turning and expecting me to follow.

I didn't have the energy to argue, so I trailed behind him.

The office was as I remembered it—clean, orderly, and suffused with the faint scent of aged wood and leather. He motioned for me to sit in one of the chairs across from his desk while he settled into his.

For a moment, he simply looked at me, his brow furrowing as if trying to place something.

"Who is your father?" he finally asked, his voice measured.

The question caught me off guard. "My father?"

He nodded, his gaze steady.

I cleared my throat, trying to push back the unease creeping in. "Joel... Joel Soto," I said. "And my mom's name is Stephanie."

Something flickered across his face—disappointment? Sadness? It was gone before I could figure it out.

"And these are your birth parents?" he pressed. Odd.

I hesitated, feeling a strange compulsion to answer honestly. "...No. I'm adopted."

That sparked something in him. He leaned forward slightly, his interest clearly piqued. "I see," he said slowly. "Where were you born?"

I blinked, caught off guard again. "I... I don't know. I was raised in Phoenix like I told you guys," I admitted. "I've never asked. I don't even know who my real parents are." The confession brought a familiar ache to my chest, one I hadn't let myself feel in years.

He sat back, his expression thoughtful. "I'm sorry you don't know anything about your past," he said, his tone surprisingly genuine.

I nodded, unable to meet his gaze. "Me too," I murmured.

Silence stretched between us, heavy and full of unspoken thoughts.

Then, out of nowhere, he asked, "Is there something going on between you and Kun?"

My heart stopped.

I felt the blood drain from my face, my pulse pounding in my ears. "What?" I managed to croak.

He tilted his head slightly, studying me. "You heard me."

I swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. Lying didn't feel like an option, not with the way he was looking at me. "We... we found out we're mates," I admitted quietly, the words barely above a whisper. "But I don't think we'll be mates for much longer."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Mates?" he repeated, his tone laced with disbelief. "You know about mates?"

I nodded hesitantly. "A little from folklore that felt too real, before I met Tara. She's the first wolf I've ever interacted with, though."