~FREYA~

The sun was dipping low over the hills, casting a warm glow over the forest that surrounded the pack’s lands. In a small clearing, two young children laughed and chased each other, their small legs sprinting through the tall grass. She had always felt like she belonged there, at least when she was with him.

At eight years old, she was skinny and a little awkward, her hair a tangle of wild curls that caught on branches and leaves as she ran. An orphan, she’d quickly learned to survive on her own in the pack, which was not as kind to her as it should have been. She was different, quiet, and without family—a mark that set her apart.

But he never saw her as different. He was her best friend, and she trusted him more than anyone. He was quick to laugh, with a mischievous grin and a spark in his eye that made her forget all the harsh words and sneers of the other pack kids. Even at a young age, he was protective. If anyone dared to pick on her, he’d step in, his small chest puffed out in a brave but childish display. And somehow, it worked. They left her alone when he was around.

They grew up this way, together and inseparable, bound by an unspoken promise to always look out for each other. He once told her that he’d always be there to protect her, no matter what. In their young minds, they were already planning lives of adventure, strength, and loyalty. But as they grew, he began to talk about the day he’d receive his wolf, that mystical part of him that would come with age, giving him strength and purpose. She’d be safe, he promised, when he had his wolf to protect her.

Then, one morning, he was gone.

There was no warning, no chance to say goodbye. His parents had packed up and left. She ran to their empty house, calling his name, her voice echoing through the rooms, but no one answered. Her friend, her only protector, had vanished. She sat in the doorway of his empty home until dark, feeling as if a part of her had been ripped away.

The pack didn’t wait long to notice. Without him, the children began to pick on her mercilessly, taking advantage of her solitude. They mocked her, shoved her, and stole what little she had. She felt the loss of him like a shadow that clung to her.

Years passed, each one harsher than the last. She dreamed of his promise to return, to come back when he was strong and had his wolf. She clung to that memory like a lifeline, even as she learned to endure the endless taunts and struggles of life alone.

Then, on the eve of her sixteenth birthday, she made a decision. She would leave the centre of the pack’s lands and go to the outskirts, to the old, abandoned cottage she’d seen hidden in the woods. She’d fix it up, make it her own, and live there in peace, far from the pack who treated her like an outsider. She wanted somewhere quiet, where the world couldn’t touch her, where she could exist without fear or judgement.

And so, she gathered what few belongings she had and left. The cottage was old and empty, with vines creeping up its stone walls and broken windows that let in the soft, whispering wind. But it was hers, and she worked hard, patching it up, tending a small fire each night. She found solace in the solitude, the quiet of the forest, and the feeling of finally having something that belonged to her alone.

As she settled into her new life, she found herself thinking of him often, wondering if he would ever return, wondering if he still remembered his promise. She hoped, even when it hurt, that one day, he’d come back for her, strong and fierce, just as he’d always promised.

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