Chapter 83 WORDS THAT BREAK
AMBER’S POV
I couldn’t sleep after Derek’s words. I lie there with my back to him long after his breathing evens out, long after the room grows quiet. My chest hurts in a way I can’t explain, like something is pressing down on it, making it hard to breathe. I replay everything he said, every sharp edge of it, and no matter how I turn it around, it all comes back to the same thing.
I don’t belong here, if there was ever a doubt in my mind, tonight kills it. Derek doesn’t see me as someone worth understanding. I’m a problem to manage, a burden he tolerates because he has to. Maybe I’ve always known this, but hearing it from him, even indirectly, makes it real.
I wipe my face quietly, careful not to make a sound. Crying won’t change anything and staying will only make it worse.
I stare at the ceiling as the hours crawl by, and by the time dawn breaks, my decision is already made.
I’m leaving and I didn't care if anyone thought me to be evil. From the very beginning, he never wanted me here, always looking for an avenue to chase me away but this time around, I have already made up my mind and no one could change it.
The day passes slowly, every minute dragging. I move through my duties like a ghost, barely hearing anyone speak to me. Derek doesn’t look at me once, and that somehow hurts even more. Maybe this is how it’s meant to be…quiet, distant, already over.
When morning finally comes, my heart starts to race. This is it, this is the moment I'd been waiting for for as long as I can remember.
I slip away when no one is paying attention and make my way toward the back of the pack grounds, where the trees grow thicker and the path narrows. Fauna is already there, waiting like she promised. She looks around once more before turning to me.
“You’re sure about this?” she asks softly.
I nod. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
She studies my face, then sighs. “Alright. We don’t have much time.”
She hands me a small bundle…food, water, and a cloak darker than the night sky. I take it with trembling hands.
“Thank you,” I say. “For everything.”
She gives me a sad smile. “Just get home safely.”
We move quickly, keeping to the shadows. The sky darkens, the last traces of light disappearing as night settles in. My heart pounds with every step, fear and excitement mixing together. I expect someone to shout, to stop us, but no one does.
When we reach the outer gate, the guard on duty barely glances at us. Fauna murmurs something to him, and he steps aside without question. Just like she said, just like she promised he would. I didn’t know how she had done this but I was grateful to her for saving my life. She didn’t know it but everything she had done leading up to this moment was much more than what Derek and Damien had done for me and I loved her for it.
I don’t look back because truthfully, there was really nothing to look back to except pain and suffering I had been used to.
The moment I pass through, it feels like a weight lifts off my chest. I mount the horse Fauna prepared for me, adjusting my grip on the reins.
“This is as far as I go,” she says. “Once you hit the old trail, just follow it straight. It’ll take you home.”
I swallow hard. “I won’t forget this.”
She nods. “Go.”
I kick the horse gently, and we move forward, faster and faster, the pack fading behind me. The wind rushes past my face, cold and sharp, but I welcome it. Every mile puts more distance between me and a place that never truly wanted me.
The ride feels endless. My body aches, my hands sting from gripping the reins, but I don’t stop. Fear pushes me forward…the fear that if I slow down, I’ll lose my nerve.
When the familiar landmarks finally appear, my throat tightens. The old oak tree and the broken fence. The road I’ve walked a thousand times.
I’m home and I could feel it with every minute that passed.
I dismount clumsily, my legs weak, and the moment my feet touch the ground, I almost collapse. The door swings open before I can knock.
“Amber?”
My mother’s voice.
She freezes when she sees me, then gasps, her hands flying to her mouth. “Amber!”
She runs to me, wrapping her arms around me so tightly it almost hurts. I bury my face in her shoulder, breathing her in, and for the first time in days, I feel safe.
My father appears behind her, his eyes wide. “You’re here,” he says, disbelief clear in his voice. “You’re really here.”
“I came home,” I whisper.
My siblings crowd around me, voices overlapping, questions pouring out faster than I can answer. They touch my arms, my hair, like they need to be sure I’m real.
Inside the house, warmth surrounds me. Someone presses a cup into my hands, another drapes a blanket over my shoulders. The simple kindness breaks something in me.
I sit at the table, finally telling them everything. The pack and Derek. The way I felt invisible, unwanted. My mother listens quietly, her jaw tightening with every word.
“You did the right thing,” she says firmly when I finish. “You never belonged where you weren’t valued.”
Tears fill my eyes again, but this time, they aren’t painful.
As night deepens, I lie in my old bed, staring at the familiar ceiling. The room smells the same, feels the same, like time never moved here.
I think of Derek, of the pack I left behind, and for the first time, I don’t feel guilt, only relief. Whatever comes next, I’ll face it here, with people who see me, who love me and as sleep finally pulls me under, I know one thing for certain.
Leaving wasn’t running away, it was c
hoosing myself.
WHERE I BELONG