Someone greeted me and pulled me back to reality. He was pleasantly surprised to see me return and asked how I had been. I told him about my experiences in Icebourne, and he couldn’t stop expressing his admiration.
Under his expectant and reverent gaze, I erased the last trace of emotion I had left for Anderson. I strode forward.The sky was bright and clear, just like the life I had ahead of me.
Three years later, I had risen to become a renowned healer, sought after by alphas from packs far and wide.
More and more wolves were healed by my hands, and in gratitude, they swore to protect me. For years, I continued to make significant contributions to werewolf medicine.
I traveled through the forbidden jungles of Viremont, explored the Eternal Night Wastes of Nordhollow, and even witnessed a Blood Moon gathering of werewolves deep in the Ashen Dunes. I discovered more potent healing methods, bringing countless
wolves back from the brink of death.
By the time I finished my work for the day, the clock had already struck midnight. Drowsy, I returned to my increasingly luxurious home, only to find a tall figure standing at my doorstep.
I halted warily, and sharp claws instinctively extended from my fingertips. Years of perilous exploration had transformed me.
I was bold enough to face any threat head–on. The wolf heard my movement and turned around, revealing his face.
It was only after a moment that I managed to recognize him–Anderson, who had completed his sentence and was about to be exiled. His fur had grown sparse and dull. He had lost an eye, leaving a jagged scar.
The bones in his face looked shattered and uneven. He had a noticeable limp, his entire posture crooked as he stood. He was no longer strong or handsome.
Looking at me, now more beautiful and powerful than ever, he seemed to realize he was no longer worthy of even being in my presence, let alone being my mate.
“Irene…” he called my name in a voice laced with guilt and a lingering hint of longing.
I didn’t respond and simply stared at him, my expression unreadable. He wasn’t surprised by my cold reaction.
His lips trembled as he reached into his worn coat and pulled out a moonstone. It carried a potent blessing.
I could sense that the enchantment was meant for my child. He cupped the moonstone in his calloused hands and let out a bitter, self–deprecating laugh. “I know doing this now only makes me look like a hypocrite.
But I’ve always loved babies and was truly looking forward to having our child.
“Nothing I do will ever make up for the immense pain I caused you, but I want to at least do this one thing. Before I was imprisoned, I bought our child a burial plot. I even went hunting for the extra money to have the blessing inscribed on this
stone.”
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