Chapter 292

The plush pillow felt cool against my cheek as I stirred from my fitful slumber. Sunlight seeped through the sheer curtains covering the windows, illuminating the tiny dust particles dancing in the air. My body ached from the awkward position, my hair a tangled mess from hours of restless tossing and turning.

Somehow, I had managed to fall asleep last night, but just barely. I hardly felt as though I slept at all without Nathan by my side, and I knew that I would be paying for it later.

“Nathan?” I croaked out, my voice barely above a whisper. I hoped beyond hope that he had decided to return home at some point during the night, but I knew that that wasn’t true. I would have heard him come home in my half-asleep, half-delirious state.

The empty echo of the room provided a bleak answer, but the soft cries of the babies from the adjacent room added to the urgency of my life. It was a cruel irony that they were oblivious to the turmoil our family was in.

But I preferred it that way, and I hoped to make sure that they would grow up in comfort. Just as soon as I solved our next big dilemma: the witch.

I staggered to my feet, legs trembling, and made my way to the nursery.

The cribs stood side by side, the white paint contrasting with the pastel-colored walls. The twins, my beautiful babies, were awake, their chubby faces scrunched up in distress. Aurora, with her tufts of golden hair, reached out for me, her small fingers grasping the air.

“Shh, my love,” I whispered, picking her up and cradling her close, feeling the dampness of her tears. The weight of my mistake in the mines bore down on me, the pain almost unbearable. “I promise, Aurora, I’ll fix this. I’ll make it right.”

Elliot, sensing his sister's comfort, began to cry louder. I gently set Aurora back in her crib and took Elliot into my arms, trying to soothe him with a lullaby. It was the same one my mother had sung to me as a child, its melody familiar and comforting.

Once the babies had their breakfast and were changed, I secured them in the stroller and ventured outside, determined to right the wrongs and protect my family from the malicious witch’s clutches.

Outside, the town was like a postcard of the past, with cobblestone streets, wooden houses, and blooming gardens. The scent of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, making my stomach growl. It still amazed me how the town always kept going after our strifes, refusing to be held back by what the Redclaws had done.

As I continued toward the town’s center, where most of the devastation had taken place, the savory aroma of freshly baked bread wafted around me. My stomach growled again, betraying my prolonged hunger.

Inside, the sun-kissed bricks and rustic wooden beams of the bakery interior created a feeling of home. Little golden loaves sat neatly behind glass counters while pastries of all shapes and colors tempted patrons.

Mrs. Abernathy, the rotund and rosy-cheeked bakery owner, stood behind the counter, kneading dough and humming a tune. The moment she caught sight of me, her eyes lit up. “Olivia! Come, come. It’s been a while.”

“Hello, Mrs. Abernathy,” I greeted, my voice soft. The hunger gnawing at my insides overcame the bitterness of recent events, and I motioned towards a croissant. “I’ll have one of those, please.”

She nodded, wrapping the croissant in a little parchment paper, but her attention had already shifted to the twins in their stroller. “Here’s two. Everything is free today, by the way. Just my way of giving back to the community.”

I smiled, taking a bite of one of the buttery croissants. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

Mrs. Abernathy nodded, then glanced down at the stroller. “Oh, look at these two!” She cooed, reaching out to pinch Aurora’s and Elliot’s cheeks. “Growing so fast!”

I chuckled. “They certainly are. Keeps me on my toes.”

Mrs. Abernathy straightened, her hands flour-dusted, her gaze thoughtful. “This town... we've seen our fair share of troubles. But we always come out stronger. Your little ones remind me of that.” She shot me a knowing smile. “We’ll be right as rain soon.”

The undercurrent of her words was clear. Despite the recent hardships, the strength and resilience of the community remained unyielding. I found comfort in her words, the steady assurance of someone who had seen decades of change.

Then her gaze shifted, and she looked around. “Speaking of strength, where’s Alpha Nathan? Usually, he’s right by your side.”

I felt a sting in my heart but quickly hid it behind a mask of calm. “He’s... busy,” I replied, avoiding her searching gaze.

She nodded slowly, her eyes filled with understanding. “He’s such a good Alpha. Always looking out for everyone.”

“Yes,” I whispered, the weight of our last encounter pressing down on me. “He is.”

Mrs. Abernathy placed a comforting hand on mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Everything will be okay, dear.”

I managed a smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Abernathy.”

With croissants in hand and a little less pain in my heart, I continued toward the town’s center. The library, which had once stood tall and grand in the town square, was now a sad pile of burnt rubble and ash. Villagers were working tirelessly, picking up charred pieces of wood and tossing them into carts.

“Ah, Olivia!” Mr. Peters, a portly old man with a beard down to his chest, called out. “Didn’t expect to see you here today.”

“I...” I hesitated, looking around. “I thought maybe I could help, even if it’s just a little.”

He smiled warmly, handing me a pair of gloves. “There’s always work to be done. You can start by helping Martha over there.”

I nodded, walking over to where a middle-aged woman was trying to move a large wooden beam. Together, we managed to lift it, the weight of the task momentarily distracting me from the weight in my heart.

Throughout the day, I found myself lost in the rhythm of manual labor, occasionally checking on the twins in their stroller beneath the shade of a large oak tree.

With every piece of debris I cleared away, I felt a sense of purpose. This town had been my home, and these people were my family. And if I was to protect my own family, I had to be a part of this community.

“You okay?” Martha asked, wiping the sweat from her brow.

I looked up, forcing a smile. “Yes. Just lost in thought.”

“You and Alpha Nathan, you’ll figure it out,” she said, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “Love has a way of healing even the deepest wounds.”

“I hope so,” I murmured.

As the day waned and shadows stretched across the ground, I found myself on the outskirts of the town square, my hands stained and sore. I was so engrossed in my task that I didn’t notice him at first.

It was his scent, a mix of grapefruit salt and a newfound musk that had come to my senses ever since I shifted, that caught my attention. Slowly, I lifted my gaze, my heart pounding.

Nathan stood a few feet away, his silhouette framed by the setting sun. His tawny blonde hair was as disheveled as ever, and the lines on his face seemed deeper, as if etched by pain and fatigue. I knew instantly that he hadn’t slept well last night, either.

Our eyes met, and in that instant, the world around us faded away. Every emotion, every memory, every shared moment, it all came rushing back. The air between us crackled with tension, thick with unsaid words and unresolved feelings.

“Nathan,” I began, my voice quivering. I took a step forward, wanting nothing more than to close the distance between us.

But he held up a hand, stopping me in my tracks. The hurt in his eyes was evident, the walls he had built high and impenetrable.

“We can’t,” he said, his voice breaking. “Not now, Olivia.”

“I…” The words caught in my throat. I wanted to explain, to apologize, to make him understand. But the pain in his eyes, the raw emotion, it was all too much.

Without another word, Nathan turned on his heel and walked away, leaving me standing there, shattered and heartbroken.