Chapter 5: Unraveling the Past

I followed Isla into the clinic, my feet heavy on the floor as though the weight of her uncertainty was pressing down on me. She moved ahead, the journal still clutched in her hands like it held the answers she didn’t yet know she was searching for. There was a strange tension between us, a pull neither of us could deny, and it made the air feel thick, like the calm before a storm.

The clinic was quiet now, the bustle of the day long gone, leaving only the soft hum of fluorescent lights above. The smell of antiseptic and animal medicine lingered in the air, mixing with the faint trace of pine and earth that clung to me from the forest. Isla walked to the counter, setting the journal down with a soft thud. She seemed to be trying to process everything—what had just happened, what she had seen, and what it meant for her.

I leaned against the doorframe, watching her with a mix of wariness and something I couldn’t quite place. She was braver than most people I knew. Hell, braver than I’d been at her age. But there was something fragile about her too, something hidden behind that determined exterior. And I wasn’t sure if I was the right person to help her understand all of this.

“What is this?” she asked, her fingers tracing the crescent moon mark on the cover of the journal. She didn’t look at me as she spoke, her voice distant, as though she were trying to make sense of the situation without letting herself fully believe it.

I pushed away from the doorframe, my body moving instinctively closer, but I kept my distance. “It’s... complicated.”

She looked up at me, her expression one of quiet frustration. “I think I can handle complicated.”

I hesitated. I wanted to tell her everything, wanted to explain who I was and what this world really meant for her. But there was a part of me that wasn’t ready for her to know. Not yet. There were too many dangers, too many unknowns. Too much of my own past that I’d buried deep in the shadows.

“You need to understand something,” I said, my voice steady, but my hands balled into fists at my sides. “This—this life isn’t easy. It’s not something you can just jump into without consequences.”

“I’m not jumping into anything.” Her tone was sharp now, defensive, but beneath it, I could hear the unease. She was as unsure as I was, even if she was doing her best to mask it. “I just want answers. About my father. About what’s really going on.”

Her words hung in the air, and I felt the weight of them. Her father’s disappearance had been a wound that never fully healed, and I knew that this journal—this mark—was connected to everything that had gone wrong. To everything I’d tried to avoid.

“Your father was more involved in this world than you realize,” I said quietly, my voice rough. “He wasn’t just a vet. He had ties to the pack. To me. To the prophecy.”

She blinked, clearly taken aback. “What prophecy?”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The truth was dangerous. “The prophecy of the Bound Alpha. It’s an ancient belief. A myth passed down through the generations. It speaks of a bond between a human and a werewolf—two worlds coming together. It’s said that the Bound Alpha will unite both sides, but at a great personal cost.”

Isla’s gaze flickered from the journal to me, her expression full of questions. “What does that have to do with my father?”

I clenched my jaw, unsure how to explain something so heavy, something that had haunted my family for generations. “Your father was part of this. He knew about the prophecy. He tried to protect you from it. But it’s not something that can be avoided. It’s... destined.”

Isla took a step back, her eyes wide. “You’re saying that I’m supposed to... what? Be part of this prophecy?”

I couldn’t meet her eyes. “You’ve always been part of it, Isla. From the moment you were born, you were tied to it. Your father tried to keep you away, but the mark—the one on the journal, on his wrist—he knew this day would come. He knew you’d find out. He just... he didn’t know how to prepare you for it.”

She shook her head, her fingers gripping the journal tighter. “You’re telling me my father was involved in some... some werewolf prophecy? And I have no choice but to be part of it?”

I could hear the disbelief in her voice, but there was something else there too—fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of something bigger than she could comprehend.

“You have a choice, Isla,” I said softly, taking a step closer. “But it’s not an easy one. You can choose to walk away, forget about everything, go back to your old life. But the truth is, you’re already a part of this world. Whether you like it or not.”

She didn’t respond right away, her gaze fixed on the journal in front of her, as though searching for some kind of clue, some sign that she could make sense of it all. I couldn’t blame her. The weight of it all was heavy, and I knew she wasn’t ready to face the reality of her situation.

“You don’t have to face this alone,” I said, my voice low, steady. “I’ll help you. But you need to trust me.”

Isla’s eyes flickered up to meet mine, and for the briefest moment, I saw the uncertainty in them. The same uncertainty I felt every day as I tried to balance my responsibilities to the pack and to her. But beneath that uncertainty, there was something else—something stronger.

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” she said quietly, her voice thick with emotion. “Not yet.”

I nodded, my heart sinking. I hadn’t expected her to trust me. Hell, I didn’t even trust myself half the time. But if there was one thing I knew for certain, it was that I wasn’t going to leave her to figure this out alone.

“I understand,” I said, my voice soft. “But when you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

She looked at the journal one last time, and then, with a deep breath, she closed it and set it down on the counter. There was a long silence between us, the air thick with the unsaid. But even in that silence, I could feel the pull between us. It wasn’t going away.

She was part of this world now. And I was going to do everything I could to make sure she survived it.

Even if it meant sacrificing everything I had left.