I expected disappointment or frustration, but Liam nodded with understanding.
“I can wait,” he said simply; he had already waited twelve years. “It won’t matter if it takes a little longer.”
His response perplexed me: “Twelve years?” What do you mean?”
Liam’s expression softened with recollection.
“We have met before, Amelia. You don’t remember, but I can’t forget.”
He went on to tell me a story that astounded me: Twelve years ago, when I first started working and had saved enough money for leisure activities, I took skiing lessons at a resort near the Silvermoon Pack territory.
Liam had also been there, temporarily escaping his family’s business pressures. In his haste to find solitude, he’d ventured into an unmonitored section of the mountain and suffered a serious fall, trapping him in a ravine.
“I would have died of exposure if you hadn’t spotted me,” he said quietly. “You called the resort staff and stayed until they found me. You even paid me a visit at the medical centre afterward.”
After that incident, I never saw him again; he explained that he had looked for me, hoping to properly express his gratitude, but I had vanished.
“It wasn’t until your mating ceremony with Dylan was broadcast on the regional pack news that I discovered who you were,” he continued. “But you were already mated. I couldn’t interfere with that bond.
“Is that why you recognised me at the flight school? I was surprised by this connection that I had completely forgotten. The coincidence, or perhaps fate, seemed almost unbelievable.””I asked.
Liam nodded, “I’ve never forgotten your face.” When you signed up for lessons, I assumed the Moon Goddess was giving me another chance.”
“And then you discovered I was a rejected mate,” I remarked bitterly.
“No,” he gently corrected, “I learnt you were a survivor. Someone strong enough to walk away from a broken relationship rather than put up with it.”
His words warmed something within me that had become cold.
Despite my rejection of his romantic interest, Liam did not distance himself; instead, he offered friendship, accompanying me on outdoor adventures and respecting my boundaries. He became a steady, calming presence in my new life, supportive but not demanding, close but not intrusive.
We developed a comfortable routine: helicopter lessons twice a week, weekend hikes, and quiet evenings discussing books or pack politics. Sometimes we’d sit in companionable silence, watching the sunset from my chalet’s porch, with Noctara and Groveborn playing at our feet.
It wasn’t love just yet, but it was healing.
Two years later, I learnt about Dylan.
After being removed from Hunter territory that day, he was apparently retrieved by Mabel, and their reunion had turned volatile, erupting into a fierce argument, in which Dylan pushed her.
The fall caused Mabel to miscarry the pup she was carrying, which I had no idea about.
Mabel’s mind was shattered by the loss of both her mate’s love and her child, and she deliberately ran Dylan down with her vehicle, leaving him in a vegetative state.
Mabel was then committed to a mental health facility, where she would likely spend the rest of her life.
When I heard about their tragic death, I felt no satisfaction, vindication, or sorrow–only a distant recognition of lives poorly lived and bad decisions.
These people who had once dominated my life were now just footnotes in my story; they had left their imprints, yes, but they had not defined me.
Does it bother you?” Liam enquired when he noticed me reading the news report.
I folded the paper and shook my head, “No.” It’s like hearing about characters from a book I finished years ago.”
Later that evening, as we walked along the forest path near my chalet, Liam’s hand brushed against mine, posing a question without words.
After a brief hesitation, I laced my fingers through his.
Some wounds and bonds require time to heal or form.
Sometimes, the Moon Goddess grants second chances to those who muster the courage to start over.
