A Wolf's True Mate

Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

The scent of dust and aged paper wraps around me like a familiar embrace as I push open the heavy, carved door to the library. My footsteps echo softly across the polished hardwood floors, the sound a stark contrast to the chaos churning inside me. Ford's somber gaze haunts my thoughts; that mixture of resolve and hidden fear whenever he meets anyone's eyes. It claws at my heart, this sense of helplessness, knowing that an old woman's prophecy has sunk its teeth into his fate.

I weave through the high stacks of books, their spines whispering tales and secrets, until I reach my favorite alcove. Here, nestled between the mythology and history sections, is where I can breathe. Nobody else comes here, not really. They don't seek solace in the quiet company of books like I do.

Settling into the window seat, a shaft of light from the setting sun paints warmth across my skin, I let out a sigh, inviting the silence to seep into my bones. But silence is never just silence for me. Whispers, the thoughts of others, always find a way to creep through the walls I've built around my mind. Yet, in this space, they're distant enough to ignore.

Leaning my head back against the cool stone wall, I close my eyes and allow myself to drift back to the earliest memories that shape my existence. The Gold Paw pack found me, an infant shifter with no past, no identity other than what they chose to give me. I was told how they discovered me wrapped in a tattered blanket, abandoned at the edge of the woods that cradle our town.

"Skye," they had named me, after the unending expanse above us on the day they claimed me as one of their own. The Goldens took me in, raised me with kindness in spite of the questions that hung over my origins like gathering storm clouds. "You're one of us now," they'd say, but the truth is, deep down, I've always felt like an outsider looking in.

Despite their acceptance and love, there's a part of me that yearns to know where I came from before that day. Who was I? Who were my parents? And why did they leave me? These questions form the core of my very being, relentless and unsolved. They are the silent roar that echoes within the caverns of my soul, demanding answers that I fear I may never find.

With these thoughts swirling through my mind, I pull a book from the shelf without really looking at the title. My fingers trace the embossed cover, finding solace in the texture. Books are the keepers of stories, of lives lived and lost, of secrets kept and revealed. Perhaps, within their pages, I might find pieces of my story, too.

The library's silence wraps around me like a familiar shawl, the scent of old paper and dust a subtle reminder that within these walls, I can lose myself in other worlds. My fingertips graze the spines of books as I walk past the towering shelves, each title a whispered promise of escape.

"Skye."

The soft call of my name pulls me from my reverie, and I turn to find Luca leaning against the doorframe, his golden-blond hair catching the dim light filtering through the stained-glass windows. His blue eyes search mine, an unreadable expression etched into his features.

"Hey, Luca." I tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear, my heart knocking erratically against my ribs. "What brings you here?"

He pushes away from the wooden frame and approaches slowly, hands buried in the pockets of his jeans. "I've been looking for you," he says, stopping a careful distance away. The air between us crackles with unspoken tension, and I tighten my grip on the book in my hands.

"Is everything okay?" I ask, hoping my voice doesn't betray the sudden anxiety that grips me.

Luca takes a deep breath, then exhales slowly. "I just... I need to ask you something, Skye. And I want you to be honest with me." He pauses, hesitating before locking his gaze with mine. "Do you have feelings for Ford? Is that why you've been avoiding me?"

His question hits me like a physical blow, and for a moment, I'm speechless. The very idea sends a ripple of disbelief through me. Ford is... Ford. My childhood friend, the Alpha, the one who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. But my feelings for him are just that—friendly concern. Aren't they?

"Luca, no," I finally manage to say, shaking my head for emphasis. "Ford is going through a tough time right now. You know about the prophecy, the burden he's shouldering. I'm just trying to be there for him, as a friend. That's all it is." I meet Luca's gaze squarely, willing him to understand the truth in my words.

"Then why do I feel like I'm losing you?" Luca's voice is barely above a whisper, and the vulnerability in his eyes makes my heart clench.

"Because you're not looking at what's right in front of you," I say softly, closing the small distance between us. "You're too busy worrying about things that aren't even there. I'm here, Luca. With you."

He studies me, searching my face for any sign of deceit. After a long moment, he nods, and the tension eases from his shoulders. "I just needed to hear it from you," he admits, and there's a hint of relief in his tone.

"Always," I assure him, and for the first time since I entered the library, a genuine smile tugs at the corners of my lips.