Chapter 63 *

Chapter 63 Chapter 63
Angelina’s POV
I woke up early the next morning. The clock read 6:47 AM. I threw on my running gear and headed out.
The air bit at my face as I jogged through the neighborhood. My body—this weak, pathetic body—was already protesting after just ten miles. In my previous life, I could run thirty miles without breaking a sweat. Now I was gasping like a fish out of water.
I need to get stronger. Fast.
By 8:15, I was standing outside the local coffee shop. Derek had texted me last night: Tomorrow morning. Java Junction. 8:30.
I pushed through the door. The smell of roasted beans hit me immediately. Derek was already there.
He looked up when I approached. His eyes were bloodshot, heavy bags underneath.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey."
I slid into the booth across from him. A waitress appeared almost instantly, her blonde ponytail swinging as she pulled out her notepad.
"What can I get you folks?"
"Just tap water, please," I said.
The waitress blinked. Derek's eyes widened slightly, then he cleared his throat.
"Make that two."
The waitress's professional smile faltered for just a second. Her pen hovered over the notepad. "Seriously?"
"Yeah," I said.
"Coming right up." Her voice was flat as she turned on her heel and walked away.
Derek rubbed his face with both hands. When he looked at me again, he had this expression—like he'd tasted something sour.
"Look, about yesterday," he started, his voice low. "Just forget I said anything, okay? That whole thing—forget it."
I didn't respond. Just waited.
He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable. "I can't let go of my kid. That's just... that's who I am. I can't move on from that. Don't expect me to."
His mouth twisted into something that was supposed to be a smile. It looked more like a grimace. Like crying would've been less painful than whatever expression he was forcing onto his face.
The waitress returned with two glasses of tap water. She set them down without a word and left.
Derek took a long drink, then set the glass down carefully, aligning it with the edge of the table. "So are you actually serious about this? Joining up?"
"Yeah."
He was my biological father in my past life. I owe him that much. But more importantly, this body is weak. I need military training to build it back up to something useful. The physical conditioning, the combat training—I need all of it.
Derek leaned back, studying me. "Easy on the screen time, alright? Don't need you showing up with glasses to the physical."
I nodded.
"When you're old enough, you'll go through the standard recruitment physical," he continued. His tone shifted slightly—more businesslike, less emotional. "If you pass, I can pull some strings to get you assigned to my unit."
"Okay."
"But you gotta go through the process. No shortcuts, no special treatment. You understand? I'm not giving you an easy ride just because of—" He stopped, jaw tight. "You go through the same process as everyone else."
"Mm-hmm."
We sat there for another ten minutes. Derek talked about basic training requirements, physical fitness standards, what I'd need to work on. I gave him occasional "yeah"s and "mm-hmm"s.
Finally, Derek checked his watch. "I gotta head out. Got a shift at noon."
"Alright."
We both stood. He hesitated, like he wanted to say something else, then just nodded and walked out.
I stayed for another minute, finishing my water, then headed back to home.
The house was quiet when I got back around 10 AM. Grace's car was gone—probably at work. Nathan and Ethan were out too. Leo had mentioned something about hanging with friends today.
That meant only one person might be home.
Caelan.
I'd been thinking about this since yesterday. The fang necklace. Why Caelan was really here. It was the only explanation that made sense. Someone with his status, his severe cleanliness standards—why else would he tolerate living in this chaotic household?
The necklace was valuable. Powerful. Important enough that an Alpha would go undercover to retrieve it.
Fine. We can work together on this. I'll offer him a deal, and then he can leave.
I climbed the stairs, my footsteps quiet on the worn carpet. When I reached Caelan's door, I raised my hand and knocked three times.
The door opened immediately.
Caelan stood there, looking down at me with those cold eyes. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, but somehow he still managed to look like he'd stepped out of a magazine.
I pushed past the thought and looked beyond him into his room.
Holy shit.
I'd never actually seen inside Caelan's room before. It was immaculate. Spotless. The hardwood floor gleamed like it had just been waxed. His bed was made with military precision—the corners sharp, the comforter stretched tight without a single wrinkle. The window sill, the bookshelf edges, the desk surface—not a speck of dust anywhere.
It was cleaner than a hospital room. Cleaner than my room by a factor of ten, easily.
This is what severe OCD looks like.
Caelan raised one eyebrow, waiting.
I met his eyes. No point dancing around it.
"You're here for the fang necklace, aren't you?"
It has to be. That necklace is the only thing valuable enough to make someone like him suffer living here. The first time he saw my room, he asked to check it out. He was looking for the necklace then. An Alpha's fang necklace—that's worth putting up with this chaos.
Caelan's expression didn't change. His voice came out smooth, low, with that edge of arrogance that seemed permanently attached to him.
"No."
I blinked. That wasn't the answer I expected.
Is he lying?
I studied his face. But someone with Caelan's status wouldn't need to lie about this. If he was here for the necklace, he could just take it. He had the power. The connections. There was no reason to pretend otherwise.
Then why is he here?
"Then why—"
"For you."
The words hit me like a physical impact. My heart stuttered, then kicked into overdrive, pounding against my ribs.
For me?
What the hell does that mean?
I stared at him. Caelan stared back, completely calm.
Is he... does he know who I really am?
My mind raced. Reincarnation wasn't something you could just google. There was no paper trail, no evidence. Even if Caelan was the Alpha of Evergreen Pack, even with all his resources, how could he possibly know that this Omega body housed the soul of Riverbend Pack's Alpha King?
We never even met in my past life. Never crossed paths. How would he recognize my soul?
Unless—
No. That's impossible.
The second possibility crept into my mind, unwanted.
Does he... like me?
That's insane. Completely ridiculous.
But it was the only other explanation. And somehow, it was even less believable than him discovering my true identity.
An Alpha like Caelan Thorne, interested in a bullied Omega nobody?
That doesn't make sense.
I opened my mouth. Closed it. No words came out.
Caelan just stood there, watching me with those unreadable eyes, waiting for a response that I couldn't form.
My brain had completely short-circuited.
The next thing I knew, I was back in my room, door closed behind me.
When did I leave his room? Did I say anything? Did I just walk away?
I sat down hard on my bed, my heart still racing.
"For you."
What the hell does that mean?