⋆ Chapter 199

⋆ Chapter 199
Three months. That was how long it had been since I walked out of Cillian’s bedroom with tears still clinging to my lashes and the sound of my own heart breaking ringing in my ears. Long enough, I thought, to clear the fog in my head. To feel something close to certainty.
Now I stood at the edge of a runway, the morning sun casting a dull gold across the tarmac. The private plane Rafael had arranged for me waited quietly, engines still off, its open hatch yawning like a doorway to another life.
I had three suitcases with me—two of them full, the third nearly empty. I wasn’t sure what that said about me. Maybe I was still leaving room for something I hadn’t figured out yet.
Rafael stood beside me, arms crossed, a faint frown lining his face.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. “Are you a hundred percent sure you want to do this?”
I exhaled slowly. “I think I had enough time to think this through, and… yeah, I’m still sure I want to do this.”
He didn’t look convinced. “You sure you don’t want your family to come see you for the last time? Or your friends? Plane’s pack property. It can wait as long as you need. I can call them.”
“No, Rafael. They’d only ask me to stay.” And the truth was, I wasn’t sure I’d be strong enough to say no if they did.
“They’d hate you for this.”
“I know,” I said quietly. “Especially Trish and Georgia. They’re very much against me leaving, and they’re the most difficult ones.”
His brow lifted. “But the ones who’d fight the hardest to keep you here.”
I swallowed the sudden tightness in my throat. “I’ll reach out to them as soon as I’m ready.”
He didn’t press me. Instead, he glanced toward the jet. “They’re excited to meet you.”
I turned to him then, a brow arched. “Are you absolutely sure this place isn’t just some secret outpost of the Silver Moon Pack?”
That earned a laugh from him, and I found myself smiling despite the heaviness pressing on my chest.
“Nope,” he said with a grin, shaking his head. “They’re lycans who chose to live outside the packs. Kind of like someone else I know... total lone wolf.”
I rolled my eyes at him, and he laughed.
“But seriously—they’re good people. And they can help you. Train you so you can finally shift again.”
“Thank you, Alpha,” I said softly.
He cringed, as I expected, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Still not used to being called Alpha?” I asked.
“Not from you,” he muttered.
“Well, you are one now. Whether you like it or not.”
He sighed, his hand raking through his hair. “I still think you’d be a great asset to Silver Moon, you know.”
“I know,” I said, lifting my chin slightly. “But no, thank you.”
“I knew you’d say that,” he said, and that was all.
“Goodbye, Rafael,” I said, reaching out to shake his hand.
He glanced at it… then ignored it completely, pulling me into a warm, brief hug instead—the kind that says more than words ever could.
As he stepped back, he hesitated. His eyes lingered on mine.
“Hey,” he said, voice low. “Can I tell you something?”
I tilted my head. “What is it?”
But he didn’t answer right away. Something flickered across his face. Then he just shook his head, smiling like it didn’t matter.
“Never mind,” he said quietly. “Maybe another time.” He turned, but not before adding, “Take care of yourself, Matilda.”
“You too, Alpha Rafael.”
I boarded the plane alone, dragging my suitcases behind me. I didn’t look back until I’d taken my seat by the window. Rafael was still standing there, watching, hands in his pockets, shoulders squared.
When the door shut and the engines hummed to life, I leaned back and closed my eyes.
I tried to breathe. The seat was comfortable, and the lights were dimmed just enough to soften everything. Still, I kept wringing my hands, my fingers fidgeting over my wrist like they were searching for something.
I was nervous, but there was something else threading through that unease—something I hadn’t felt in a long while. Hope. A quiet kind of excitement.
The plane taxied, turned, and finally lifted into the sky. The pressure in my chest didn’t swell the way I expected it to. Instead, it lifted with the wheels. I leaned into the window, watching the ground shrink, the city below folding itself into a map of tiny lights and tiny streets. That was my past down there, slowly getting smaller until it looked like it could no longer reach me.
I smiled—quiet, barely there—but it was real.
I leaned back into my seat, loosening the grip I had on the armrest. My hand drifted again to my wrist. The skin there was bare now, but I still felt the weight of the bracelet that had once lived there. Even after taking it off for good, my skin hadn’t forgotten it. Neither had I. I rubbed the spot with my thumb, trying to soothe the ache that never fully went away.
That bracelet had once meant belonging…identity. Now it only reminded me of the girl I used to be—the girl who let others choose for her. And that girl was gone now.
I needed this beginning. This time, I wasn’t running away—I was choosing to leave.
Hours passed. I tried reading the paperback I bought at the airport, but I couldn’t keep my focus. The words swam across the page, and none of them stuck. So I closed the book and let it fall into my lap. My phone stayed dead, my laptop untouched. I wanted silence. I didn’t want to be found or needed or asked about anything.
Eventually, sleep took over, and I dozed off to the soft rumble of the engines and the dimmed cabin lights.
When I stirred again, the sky outside had shifted. The captain’s voice came through the intercom, calm and clipped, announcing our descent into Manchester.
I sat up, brushing the hair out of my face, slowly stretching the tension from my limbs. My legs ached from sitting too long, and my neck was stiff from sleeping awkwardly. I reached for the small bag beneath my seat and zipped it open with steady hands.
The window showed a gray sky, cloudy but not unfriendly. The ground below was green and unfamiliar—nothing like home, and that was exactly the point.
I braced myself as the plane tilted slightly for landing. The wheels hit the tarmac with a jolt, and just like that, I had arrived.
This was it. A new country. A new city. A new life.
I rested my palm against the glass one last time and whispered to myself, “Let’s see who I am without all of them.”
And for the first time in a very long time, I felt excited to find out.