The End After Ten Years of Pain

Debbie’s POV

When I came to, a subtle scent of herbs lingered in the air. I found myself resting on a cushioned bed inside the healer’s hut. The elderly woman tending to me offered a kind smile, her eyes lined with worry.

“You were lucky,” she said, her tone both gentle and reprimanding. “Another few minutes, and we would’ve lost you.”

I tried to speak, but my throat was raw, and only a faint rasp escaped. Though the agonizing pain had passed, an unbearable weariness weighed down my limbs. I reached for my wolf… but felt nothing. She was silent—too weak to answer. We had both been dragged too close to the edge.

“Child,” the healer said, patting my chilly hand softly, “you must never consume anything with berries again. For your kind, it’s a deadly toxin.” She shook her head. “Elisha brought you here, begging for your life. Said you’re Alpha Darrell’s intended. Future Luna.” Her gaze turned pointed. “You have a duty to protect yourself, not just to him, but to the pack.”

Her words were caring, yet they pierced me. Future Luna. Once, that title filled me with pride. Now, it echoed emptily in my soul.

She handed me a glass vial containing a silvery liquid. “Drink this three times daily. Two days, and you’ll be strong again.”

I gave a small nod, my gratitude unspoken. That day passed quietly—I rested, gathered the shreds of my strength, and tried not to think too much. But silence never lasts long.

The door creaked open.

Darrell entered.

His presence once brought warmth, comfort, even joy. Now, it only reopened wounds that hadn’t yet healed. He approached, kneeling beside me and gently taking my hand.

“Debbie,” he whispered. “The Goddess must’ve heard my prayers. I’m so sorry I couldn’t come earlier. Carla’s been unwell—she needed me.”

His words sliced into me like shards of glass. I wanted to scream, to tell him how I’d nearly died while he played guardian to someone else. But I stayed silent.

He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from my face. His touch was achingly familiar. A part of me wished, foolishly, that this moment belonged to just the two of us.

“I’ll come back soon,” he promised, rising to his feet. “But Carla needs me again. She’s Alpha Maxon’s daughter, and I have a responsibility to protect her. I hope you’re not upset. It’s just duty, Debbie. Nothing more.”

He leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead—tender, like old times—and then left without waiting for a response.

He didn’t return.

Elisha later told me that Darrell and Carla had traveled to settle a conflict in another territory. He’d taken her with him—trusted her to stand beside him where I once had.

Alone, I stared at the carved wooden box by my bedside. Inside it were 498 handwritten letters—each one from Darrell, each filled with declarations of love. He once said, when I reached letter number 500, he’d ask me to marry him.

That last letter came six months ago.

My fingers trembled as they grazed the box’s edge. I couldn’t open it. The memories felt too sharp, too unbearable. Instead, I rose to my feet. I needed air. I needed something—anything—that wasn’t this room filled with the ghosts of broken promises.

I headed toward the pack house entrance, hoping the sound of the young wolves I taught might offer distraction. But I froze.

Darrell was there, standing under the warm sun, his laughter echoing through the open air. He was helping Carla carry a basket of apples. His smile—so wide, so carefree—hadn’t looked that genuine in months.

Once, the sight of them together would’ve crushed me.

Now, I just felt… hollow.

Carla spotted me first. Her voice rang out, falsely sweet. “Debbie! Want some apples? Beta Muxim gave them to us. Darrell said you love them.”

Darrell turned, grinning like we were friends. “Debbie loves apple pie,” he chimed in.

I met his gaze, unflinching. “No,” I said. “I don’t like it.”

He blinked. “What? Of course you do. We both—”

“I said no,” I cut in, steady. “You love it. Not me.”

Carla’s expression twisted, a mask of innocence and hurt. “Did I do something wrong? I only wanted to share with you…”

I could see right through her act. Every time I refused her false kindness, Darrell treated me like the villain.

His voice snapped like a whip. “Debbie, what is wrong with you? Carla’s being nice. Could you stop being petty and just try to get along?”

I bit back the storm of emotion threatening to rise. Arguing was useless. I was done being the one who always had to defend herself.

I managed a forced smile and reached for the basket. “Thanks, Carla,” I said, selecting three apples. “I need to get to class. The pups are waiting.”

I turned away, but before I could step forward, Darrell caught my arm.