Chapter 312 312
Sabine POV
It had been more than six months since I’d last had any contact with the werewolf world since I’d last seen Aurélie, Damien, and… Maurice.
I had needed to run. Needed distance. I couldn’t become what they wanted me to be. I couldn’t accept a wolf living inside me, sharing my body like a second soul, when they’d grown up with this had a lifetime to understand their culture, their instincts, their duality.
It terrified me.
I simply couldn’t be what they expected.
Was that really so wrong? To go from a purely human life into a world where werewolves weren’t myths or fiction, but real? A world where they were attacked constantly, hunted simply for existing?
With every inch of control my wolf gained, I felt myself slipping further away losing the parts of me that felt real, familiar, human. I knew I’d left when they needed me, but the truth was… they didn’t truly need me. They only believed they did.
I hadn’t left until I knew Aurélie was safe. Until I was certain Florence and the children were no longer in danger.
The lake water had been ice-cold as I dragged Aurélie’s lifeless body from it, my hands shaking as I began CPR. I’d shown Dominique what to do the moment I heard Damien returning.
He would have locked me away. He would have tortured me the way he tortured Stéphane wouldn’t he? I’d caused chaos, bloodshed.
Why should I be spared simply because I was his sister? Because I was supposedly his best friend’s mate?
I knew they were safe.
The moment I watched Geneviève’s dead body sink into the depths of the lake, and saw Stéphane’s already-lifeless body sprawled on the decking, I knew the twins were no longer in danger.
I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t face Damien. And I certainly couldn’t be… marked. Forced into a life with a mate I barely knew no matter how strong the pull, no matter how intense the tingles beneath my skin.
It was better to disappear. To live off the grid. That’s what Father wanted for me to stay hidden.
I didn’t care about the money. I would have given it all up without hesitation just to have one more day with Mum. These past six months had proven something to me: wealth wasn’t necessary for happiness. I didn’t need any of it.
I just needed solitude.
Alone where no one could hurt me, and where I couldn’t hurt anyone else. Because that was always how it ended. You loved someone, and eventually they were taken from you. So what was the point? Of love? Of family? Of closeness when loss was inevitable?
I hadn’t heard from Father. He was still hiding, just like I was. But when I did see him again, I knew one thing for certain: I wouldn’t turn against Damien or his family. No matter how much pressure Father applied, I wouldn’t endanger them. If he expected that from me, he’d have to find another way because I wouldn’t help him.
The days here were noisy, just the way I liked them. The nights, though… the silence unsettled me. Being alone with my thoughts after dark had never been a good thing.
That was why I’d once relied so heavily on television in my apartment. But there was no television here.
I truly was off the grid.
All I owned was an old prepaid mobile phone, used sparingly, only when absolutely necessary. No one had any way of reaching me.
It was probably for the best that I wasn’t speaking to Father either. My anger toward him had only begun to fade in recent weeks. The disgust I felt being the daughter of a man capable of treating his own grandchildren so cruelly still made my stomach churn.
I loved working on the farm. I lived and worked here, completely off the grid.
I had my own caravan my sanctuary at the end of each exhausting day. The physical labour helped me sleep, though it couldn’t completely silence the part of me that still wanted Maurice.
I dreamed of him often. I didn’t understand much about mate bonds, but it felt like something inside me was calling out, urging me back to him. Sleep was the only time my mind allowed itself to wander there. During the day, I stayed busy intentionally.
I’d been on this farm for six months now. Nothing here could lead anyone to me. Everyone lived disconnected from the outside world. I didn’t need to look over my shoulder. I didn’t need to fear disappointing anyone.
Here, I could exist on my own terms… as long as the Head Farmer approved.
And he was a soft-hearted man. He saw how hard I worked, how quickly I learned, how efficiently I sowed the fields.
I had friends here. Real friends.
People who liked me because of who I was not because they were paid to, or because I was related to someone powerful. Friends who belonged to me.
It was a beautiful spring morning. I was up early, feeding the animals and warming up the farm equipment for the day ahead.
Six a.m. the best hour of the day.
I rarely made it past nine in the evenings now, sleep pulling at me the moment I stepped into the caravan. Sometimes I skipped dinner entirely, though the farmer’s wife made sure we were well-fed every morning, knowing the toll the work took on our bodies.
“It’s my turn today…” a voice called out near the cows as he opened the barn doors to let them out.
“No, I’m on rota,” I replied. “But you can help me with the tractor.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“I don’t know it’s not starting properly. Maybe it’s out of fuel?”
“Is that your professional diagnosis?” he teased.
“Well… what else could it be?”
“A thousand things,” he said lightly. “I’ll take a look. Go shut the cow gate before they terrorise the chickens.”
I did as he asked. His excuse about the rota being wrong wasn’t new and it only ever seemed to happen when I was on morning shift.
I crossed over to the gate, shooing a few cows aside. When I tried to lift it, it didn’t move.
“It’s stuck,” I called out.
“Use your strength!” he shouted back.
“I am!” I yelled, earning a chorus of irritated moos.
“Try harder…”
I strained, tugging at the gate. My strength wasn’t what it used to be not like back in the apartment. The gate refused to budge, and the cows were starting to push past me, eager to reach the next field.
“Gilles,” I snapped, “will you just come and help me!”
The End