Chapter 3

The first night after spitting out the drugs was long and agonizing. I lay awake, ears straining for any sound from Blaze, terrified he might discover my deception. But he didn't.

The second day, the third day, I repeated the same charade—drinking the milk, then quietly spitting it out. This secret ritual became my new routine, and as the drug's influence faded, my mind grew sharper each day.

It had been three days since I started my quiet rebellion, and every moment I'd been pretending everything was normal.

Blaze was waiting for me in the living room, his expression worried.

"How are you feeling? Better?"

"Much better." I forced a smile. "Fresh air really does help."

"That's good. You should get more rest." He headed toward the kitchen. "I'll prepare lunch for you."

After he left, I began carefully observing this house. The drugs had clouded my mind before, but now I could see more details clearly.

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows, and I noticed things I hadn't seen before.

The bed frame... it was welded to the floor.

I crouched down to examine it. This wasn't ordinary mounting—it was secured with heavy steel welding. Why would they do this?

The windows had steel reinforcement bars on the inside, looking like... a prison.

I ran my hand over the wall surface. Beneath layers of paint, I felt uneven marks. I scraped away some paint with my fingernail, revealing the truth underneath.

Deep scratch marks.

These weren't marks human fingernails could make. They looked more like... claws. Very large claws.

"Frost? What are you doing?"

I spun around quickly. Blaze stood in the doorway with a sandwich in hand, his eyes somewhat tense.

"Nothing, just noticed the wall surface felt rough." I said casually.

He set down the plate and came over to look at the wall. "You had a lot of strength when you were sick. These were for protecting you and the baby. The doctor said hormonal changes could sometimes make you... hard to control."

I nodded, pretending to accept this explanation. But I quietly pressed my hand against the wall—those scratch marks matched my hand size perfectly. Yet now, my fingernails couldn't possibly cause this kind of damage.

'What was I like back then?'

In the afternoon, I found an excuse to visit the town library. It was an old building with shelves full of books about local history.

I was flipping through a book about Ice Wolf Bay legends when an aged voice spoke behind me.

"What are you looking for, child?"

I turned to see an old man with graying hair and deep, wise eyes.

"Just browsing around." I said. "You are?"

"My name is Timothy." He sat across from me, his voice soft. "I've lived here for many years, watched everyone in this town grow up."

Something felt different. He looked at me completely unlike the others—no fear, but rather... nostalgia?

"You used to be the leader of all of us." He suddenly said quietly. "Now you look fragile, but that's not the real you."

My heart raced. "I don't know what you're talking about—"

"Your child." He interrupted, his gaze moving to my belly. "He will be very powerful, more powerful than you imagine. Someone fears that."

"What do you mean?"

"When the full moon comes—"

"Frost, you shouldn't be wandering around alone."

Blaze's voice suddenly rang out as he strode toward us, his eyes alert. "Timothy, thank you for keeping her company."

Timothy looked at Blaze, then stood up. "Of course, I should head home."

"We should go home too." Blaze took my arm. "There's going to be a blizzard."

Indeed, when we left the library, snow began to fall thick and fast. The wind was strong with low visibility, and people on the street were struggling to walk, some even needing to support each other.

But... I didn't feel cold.

In fact, this weather made me feel comfortable, even excited. My steps were steady and strong, while Blaze beside me was obviously struggling against the wind and snow.

"Are you feeling alright?" he shouted, his voice scattered by the wind.

"Very good." I replied, discovering this was true. The blizzard felt like a gentle spring breeze to me.

On the way home, I noticed shadows moving in the distant woods. When I looked carefully, I saw a pack of wolves.

They didn't run away, but stood quietly, watching us. No, watching me.

I felt the child in my belly begin to move strongly, as if responding to something.

"Frost?" Blaze's voice was tense. "Your eyes... they look different."

When we got home, I immediately rushed to the bathroom mirror.

In the bathroom's dim light, I saw it clearly: my pupils held a shimmering golden glow, just like a wolf's.

"Who am I really?" I whispered to the mirror.

The child in my belly kicked again, as if answering: 'You'll know soon, mama.'