The Royal Blood of the Lycan Princess

Chapter 13: A New Life

The city smelled different—no trees, no earth, just concrete, iron, and the faint scent of food wafting from the street vendors. It was both overwhelming and oddly comforting. I could walk these crowded streets without the constant pressure of eyes on me, without the weight of my past dragging me down. But the silence in my mind wasn't the peaceful kind; it was a haunting silence, filled with echoes of a life I couldn't seem to escape.

My first few days in the human city passed in a blur of faces and strange noises. I tried to keep my head down, moving through the busy streets as if I were just like everyone else. But every time I looked into someone's eyes, I couldn't help but feel like I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. The world of the Lycans, the pack, Nicolai—it was all still so fresh in my mind. Even in this place, this city of strangers, I couldn't shake the memories of what I'd left behind.

I had found a small, rundown apartment not far from the center of town. The building was old, its walls cracked and peeling, but it was a place to call my own. For the first time in years, I could breathe without looking over my shoulder, without wondering if someone was going to find me. The freedom was intoxicating, but it was also lonely.

I had a part-time job at a local café, working mornings and evenings. The work was simple enough—serving coffee, cleaning tables, taking orders. It was menial, but it allowed me to keep to myself, to blend into the background. I wasn't ready to be seen, not yet. I couldn't afford the luxury of making friends or letting anyone get too close. Not while my heart was still torn between the life I had left and the one I was trying to build.

The first few days were hard, the nights longer. I spent hours lying awake in the silence of my apartment, the weight of my past pressing on me. I could hear my mother's voice in my mind, telling me to be strong, to keep moving forward. I could hear Nicolai's cruel words, his rejection echoing in my ears, and it was enough to make my heart twist in a painful knot.

But I kept moving, kept pushing forward. What else was there to do?

---

The café was crowded this morning, as usual. The sound of chatter filled the air, mingling with the soft clink of mugs and the hiss of the espresso machine. I kept my head down as I wiped down the counter, my hands moving on autopilot. The manager, a woman named Emily, walked by, giving me a quick nod of approval. I wasn't sure if she was doing it out of kindness or because she felt sorry for me. I didn't care.

The door jingled as it opened, and I automatically looked up to see a man step inside. He was tall, with dark hair and sharp features that immediately caught my attention. His eyes scanned the room briefly before landing on me.

I quickly turned away, pretending to focus on the dishes in front of me, my heart skipping in my chest. I had no reason to feel nervous. No reason to feel anything at all. But it was hard to ignore the unsettling feeling that crept up my spine every time someone looked at me for too long.

The man ordered a coffee in a low voice, and I went through the motions of preparing it, my hands shaking slightly. I couldn't help but wonder what people saw when they looked at me. Did they see the broken girl who had run away from home? The girl who had been rejected by her fated mate?

I was still trying to figure out who I was in this new life, this new city. Was I just Amelia, the girl with no past, no future, just a stranger among strangers?

The man handed me the money, and I took it without meeting his eyes. But then he surprised me. "You don't look like you're from around here," he said, his voice smooth and calm, but with an underlying curiosity.

I blinked, caught off guard by the question. "I'm not," I replied quickly, forcing a smile. "I'm just passing through."

He studied me for a moment, his gaze lingering in a way that made me feel exposed. "You're lying," he said, as though it was a simple fact. "You don't belong here. But then again, maybe none of us do."

I froze, unsure of how to respond. There was something about him—something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. He wasn't just any stranger. He wasn't just anyone who'd walked into the café.

"I... I don't know what you mean," I stammered, forcing myself to look away.

He smiled softly, though his eyes didn't hold any warmth. "It's okay. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. Just... be careful. This city isn't as safe as it seems."

I blinked, confused by his sudden shift in tone. "What do you mean?"

His eyes darkened, and he leaned a little closer, lowering his voice so that no one else could hear. "There are people here who know what you are. And they'll come for you. They always do."

A shiver ran down my spine, and I took a small step back, feeling the walls around me closing in. "What... what are you talking about?"

But before he could answer, he turned and walked out of the café, leaving me standing there, staring after him in shock.

I shook my head, trying to push the feeling of unease away. It was probably nothing. Just a strange encounter. People had a way of saying weird things, especially in a city full of strangers. But something about that man's words stuck with me, gnawing at my thoughts.

I kept telling myself that I had left it all behind—that the pack, Nicolai, my past—none of it mattered anymore. I was free. I could live a new life, start fresh, be anyone I wanted to be.

But as I went about my day, my thoughts kept drifting back to him. To what he had said. They'll come for you. The words echoed in my mind like a warning I couldn't ignore.

---

The rest of the day passed in a blur, my mind too preoccupied with the stranger's cryptic message to focus. My shift ended, and I made my way back to my apartment, trying to push the unease down. But it didn't work. I couldn't shake the feeling that my past wasn't as far behind me as I had hoped.

That night, I sat by the window in my apartment, looking out at the city below. The lights blinked like stars, too far away to touch, too cold to feel. I could feel the weight of my past pressing on me, despite all my efforts to run from it.

Could I ever escape it? Could I really start over when the memories, the people, and the bonds still haunted me?

I didn't have the answers. I didn't have anything but a deep, gnawing fear that maybe I would never truly be free.