Chapter 3 Goodbyes and New Beginnings
Lily's POV
I jerked awake to the bite of dawn's chill, my body stiff from a night spent on cold stone. Confusion clouded my mind for a moment before the memories rushed back—the storm, my desperate flight from home, finding shelter in this forgotten temple.
Shivering, I pulled the tattered ceremonial robe I'd found tighter around my shoulders. It smelled of dust and time, but had been my only protection against the night's cold. Through the crumbling ceiling, I could see the sky lightening to a pale gray. The rain had finally stopped.
My clothes were still damp, clinging uncomfortably to my skin as I rose and peered outside. The forest was quiet except for the steady drip of rainwater from leaves and branches. No one had followed me. No one had even noticed I was gone.
The journey home was a blur of mud-slicked paths and racing thoughts. What would I say? Would he still be angry? Would mom be okay after helping me escape?
Our stilted house appeared through the trees, looking smaller and more fragile in the weak morning light. I crept up the steps, testing each one to avoid the telltale creaks that might announce my return.
The door was unlocked—it always was. Dad sprawled on the living room floor, an empty bottle still clutched in his hand, snoring loudly. The acrid smell of alcohol and sweat filled the room.
Mom was sitting with her back against our bedroom door, her knees pulled to her chest, head bowed as if standing guard. When she looked up, I saw the fresh bruise blooming on her cheekbone. Her eyes found mine, widening slightly. Recognition. Relief. Fear.
"Lily," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You made it back." She quickly pressed a finger to her lips, gesturing toward Dad with her eyes.
I rushed to her side, stepping carefully around the broken glass on the floor. "I'm sorry," I murmured, kneeling beside her. "I shouldn't have left you—"
"Shh." She gripped my hand tightly. "Don't wake him. Silver just fell asleep."
I listened and heard my brother's ragged breathing from behind the door—the telltale rhythm of someone who had cried themselves to exhaustion.
"He heard everything," Mom whispered, fresh pain crossing her face. "He wouldn't stop crying. Kept saying he wanted to help, but I couldn't let him out of the room."
I felt sick. While I had been hiding in my sanctuary, Silver had been forced to listen to our father's violence, unable to escape even that small mercy.
Mom's arms wrapped around me suddenly, pulling me close with surprising strength. I felt her tears against my neck as she held me, both of us shaking with silent sobs.
"I'm glad you got away when I distracted him," she whispered fiercely. "I was so worried about you all night. I didn't know if you'd found shelter from the storm."
I nodded against her shoulder, unable to form words around the lump in my throat. But even as I made that silent promise, I could feel that wild part that had awakened during the storm stirring within me. It was already a part of me, a frightening and alien new reality.
Three years later, I stood once more before that same statue, though both of us had weathered differently with time. Her stone features had eroded further, while I had hardened in ways not visible to the eye.
The abandoned temple had become my sanctuary over the years—the one place where I could find moments of peace away from prying eyes.
I'd repaired what I could with limited resources: patching the roof with salvaged materials, clearing years of debris, restoring a semblance of dignity to this forgotten sacred space. No one ever came here anymore; it was the perfect place to hide when my wolf stirred restlessly beneath my skin.
So much had changed during the past three years. Dad's drinking had led him deeper into debt with Blake's enforcers. When he couldn't pay, they threw him in the pack's detention cells, where he still rotted, forgotten by most—including me. I'd stopped visiting months ago when he failed to recognize me through his Shadow Brew-addled mind.
Mom couldn't bear the shame and harassment that followed. Six months after my secret Awakening, she swallowed a handful of pills in the quiet darkness of our kitchen.
When I found her the next morning, her face looked peaceful for the first time in years, a half-empty bottle of sedatives still clutched in her cold fingers. That image still haunts my dreams.
Silver and I might have followed similar fates if not for Old Martha, a childless widow who took us in when everyone else turned away. Her kindness became our sanctuary, though I never revealed my early awakening to her.
Each full moon, I'd sneak out to this temple, shifting in solitude where no one could discover my secret.
Now, at eighteen, I had finally finished school and decided to start working full-time. Old Martha had already sacrificed so much for us; it was time I helped shoulder some of the burden. Her arthritis was getting worse, and Silver's appetite grew with each passing day as he approached his own Awakening age.
Through her connections, she'd secured me a position at Green Thumb, the flower shop in town. It wasn't much, but it was a start—my first step toward building something stable for the three of us. Tomorrow would be my first day, and I'd come to the temple tonight not to say goodbye to Silver Ridge, but to mark the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.
I knelt before the Moon Goddess statue, placing a small bundle of wildflowers I'd gathered from the mountainside at her feet. My eyes fixed reverently on her.
"Moon goddess," I whispered, my voice filling the empty chamber. "I'm here to say goodbye to you."
My fingers traced the cracked marble base of her statue. The elders told stories of how Moon goddess blessed those who prayed faithfully and punished wolves who rejected or disrespected her gifts. Blake had abandoned these rituals years ago, calling them "outdated," but many older pack members still honored them in private.
"Please watch over Silver and me as we prepare for our new life," I continued, my voice catching. "Soon, we'll have nothing but each other."
My wolf stirred restlessly inside me. She had been with me since that terrifying night when I'd fled my father's drunken rage and somehow found myself at this temple during a violent storm.
No one knew about her early emergence. Not even Silver. That secret was mine alone, a burden and a blessing I carried silently.
"I know you led me here that night," I whispered to the statue. "I believe you have a purpose for us beyond this place."
I pressed my forehead against the cool stone, feeling the familiar calm wash over me. Whatever tomorrow brought, at least we were finally taking steps toward escape.
