The night before I planned to leave, I packed the last of my things into a suitcase. The pack house looked foreign now—bare and cold, stripped of every memory I’d poured into it. But in the emptiness, I felt a strange sense of relief.
At dawn, I walked out the door for the last time. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scents of the forest surrounding the pack lands. My wolf paced in my mind, uneasy but resolute. This was it.
Just as I reached the pack borders, my phone buzzed. It was my birthday, and messages started pouring in.
[Happy birthday! Hope this year is full of joy and success.]
[Wishing you strength and happiness.]
[You deserve the best—don’t settle for less!]
I smiled faintly. Each message reminded me that my life wasn’t ending here—it was just beginning.
I powered off my phone and took a deep breath, my feet crossing the boundary. The gates loomed behind me, closing with a soft clang.
But I didn’t look back.
As the plane took off, I couldn’t help but think to myself, I will be happy. With everything ahead of me, I knew I had so much to look forward to.
