4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

-Naomi-

T he dinner concluded, and while others migrated to the main room, I veered toward the hospital wing within the pack house, hopeful that our pack doctor was still available. As if anticipating my arrival, she greeted me with a smile upon my entry.

“Naomi? Need more blockers?”

“No, I’m stocked. I was wondering if you might have a moment. Something seems to be wrong,” I expressed.

Her attentive gaze scanned me before she tilted her head slightly. “You seem perfectly fine to me.”

“Well, I...” I hesitated.

“What?”

“I think something is wrong with my wolf,” I confessed.

“Your wolf? Having problems shifting?” she inquired.

“No, I don’t think so. I haven’t tried, but she seems to be in pain,” I clarified.

“In pain?” Her interest piqued, she suggested we adjourn to one of the examination rooms. I followed suit, settling onto the table before her. She took a seat opposite me, her expression filled with curiosity.

“So, explain a little more about what you’re feeling,” she prompted.

“I don’t know how to describe it. She just doesn’t seem like herself,” I admitted.

“Are you in pain?”

“No, I don’t feel any. But she keeps whimpering and saying she doesn’t feel good,” I elaborated.

“Hmm, that is perplexing. You’re too young for Moon Sickness. It shouldn’t manifest unless you’re in your thirties,” she mused.

“Moon Sickness?” I echoed, seeking clarification.

“You know, when wolves become desperate for a mate. It typically arises in your thirties if you haven’t found a partner.”

“Oh, right,” I acknowledged, absorbing this new information.

I hadn’t even considered the possibility. What if I were an anomaly? What if it manifested earlier in my case? While true mates could be discovered as early as eighteen, perhaps I was an exception to the norm.

“Could it still happen?” I pressed.

“I mean, nothing is impossible, but I haven’t heard of it, and you’re only 23,” she reiterated.

“But you said it’s not impossible,” I persisted.

“I wouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

“But—” I started again.

“Naomi, no conclusions. It would be very strange if that were the case,” she emphasized.

“But if it is, should I just pick a mate?”

“Let’s wait a little with that,” she urged. “First, I think it would be a good idea if you let your wolf out to run. When was the last time you did so?”

“Um...” I felt a sudden wave of embarrassment as I realized it had been a long time since I allowed her that freedom.

“Then I think it is safe to say she only feels confined. Give her some freedom, and you will feel better,” she advised.

“But what if it is Moon Sickness?”

“Then we take it from there,” she reassured before patting my knee. “Go for a run, but eat a little first too. It should keep you going.”

I nodded, though I wasn’t entirely convinced that a quick run in the woods behind the house would magically fix everything. However, I couldn’t go against the doctor’s orders. When she concluded the session, I decided to grab some food quickly before heading out for a run. Making my way to the kitchen, I ate alone before leaving the pack house.

Not everyone resided there. My mother had her own house where I was staying as well. Walking through the woods, not far from the main house, I called out to my mother as I entered the little house. She responded from her room, but I knew she wouldn’t be joining me. Since my dad passed away, she rarely left the house, clinging to it as the last connection to him.

Therefore, I respected her need for solitude. Instead, I retreated to change into my running attire before embarking on my jog. It didn’t take me long to locate a secluded spot where I could transition into my other form comfortably. The metamorphosis still caused discomfort, albeit less so with each occurrence.

Dark brown fur sprouted across my body, my hands morphing into paws, and my face shifting. Soon, I stood on all fours, panting slightly from the exertion, yet I relinquished control, allowing my inner wolf to surface. However, as minutes elapsed without the expected shift in control, a sense of unease crept in, prompting me to reach out to her.

No! she protested.

What do you mean, no?

No!

Perplexed, I couldn’t fathom her resistance. I always granted her the freedom to roam during our outings, which she typically relished. Yet, this time, she resisted without explanation.

Come on. The doctor assured us it would help you feel better, I reasoned.

No!

Can you offer any other response? I pressed.

She shook her head, obstinate in her refusal. It grew increasingly baffling. She seemed confused, unable to articulate her turmoil.

Attempting to coax her, I reached out, urging her to take control. In response, she snapped at me, coercing our reversion to human form. I sighed, collapsing naked onto the ground, perplexed by the unfolding events.

“Why did you do that?” I asked, but she remained silent. “I’m growing weary of this! You’re supposed to love these runs!”

She shook her head once more, retreating deeper into the back of my mind, beyond my reach.

“You’re being unreasonable! Running is something you adore,” I tried to persuade her. However, only silence came from her.

“Hey!” I called out, but received no reply.

I lingered on the ground, hoping for an answer, but she remained elusive, concealed within the depths of my consciousness. Growing weary of waiting, I began to dress again. Despite my disappointment, I decided to go for a brief run, though it failed to provide the solace I sought. Returning home, a sense of foolishness washed over me.

I should have anticipated the futility of my efforts, but I had adhered to the doctor’s instructions, feeling devoid of alternatives. Yet, apprehensions about the Moon Sickness loomed large. What if that was truly afflicting me? What course of action would I then pursue?

Attempting to dispel these troubling thoughts, I turned toward my mother’s room, finding her curled up on the bed, burying her face in one of my father’s shirts. Though his scent had long faded, it remained a powerful reminder of him.

“Mom?” I gently called out as I knocked on her partially open door.

She raised her head slightly, her expression vacant. “Yes?”

“Are you hungry?” I inquired.

“I ate,” she stated.

I knew it wasn’t true, but I opted not to challenge her.

“How about I whip up some pasta for you?” I suggested. “You’ve always had a soft spot for it.”

“That was your dad’s favorite. I simply grew accustomed to it,” she replied.

Exhaling deeply, I lowered my head slightly.

“Then how about some ice cream?” I proposed. While I preferred to ensure she had a proper meal, I was prepared to indulge her in anything she desired if it brought her comfort.

“Chocolate,” she specified.

“Of course, I’ll get that for you.”

A fleeting smile graced her lips as she settled back down. My heart ached for her. The years without her true mate had left her in this desolate state, and no medical intervention could mend her brokenness. Only a second chance at love could offer solace, but such opportunities were rare.

Navigating to the kitchen, I located some leftover ice cream and a spoon. Returning to her room, I assisted her in sitting up before handing her the sweet treat. I waited until I saw her take a few bites before retreating to the bathroom.