When Layla's eyes fluttered open, the first thing she noticed was the softness of the blanket against her skin and the muted light seeping through the curtains. The familiar walls of her room surrounded her—a safe space that felt miles away from the dark woods where her nightmare had unfolded.
Her body felt heavy, every muscle aching as if weighed down by invisible chains. Her mind was a chaotic storm, fragments of fear and pain swirling just beneath the surface. The images—the chase, the claws, the beating—hovered at the edges of her thoughts, refusing to let go.
I'm safe now, she told herself, but the echo of that terror clung to her like a shadow.
Beside her, Janet's gentle presence was steady and warm. She reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from Layla's damp forehead, her eyes soft with concern.
"You're awake," Janet whispered. "They've been sent out of the pack. The wolves from the other pack—they're gone for now. Dorian said they'll deal with it later."
Layla's throat tightened. She swallowed hard, the lump too big to speak at first. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, "Janet… I need you to know… what happened to me. I never told anyone. Not the full story. But now… I can't keep it inside."
Janet's eyes glistened as she nodded, squeezing Layla's hand gently.
Tears welled up in Layla's eyes, and before she could stop herself, they spilled over. The floodgate opened. Years of fear, pain, and loneliness poured out in silent sobs.
Janet didn't hesitate. She wrapped Layla in a tight embrace, her own tears falling freely.
They cried together—two souls holding each other in the fragile aftermath of darkness, finding a small spark of light in their shared pain.
The next few days passed in quiet comfort. Janet stayed by Layla's side, sleeping in her room, offering steady companionship. Training was excused, allowing Layla the time she needed to heal without pressure.
But today was different. Today, Layla made a choice.
She had come so far—so much progress—and she refused to let the shadow of her past control her any longer.
No matter how haunting the memories, no matter how deep the fear, she would not give in.
She would fight.
She would rise.
She was stronger than the darkness that tried to claim her.
The first light of dawn painted the sky in soft hues of pink and gold as Layla stepped out onto the training field. The cool morning air filled her lungs, sharp and invigorating.
She spotted Arwen already waiting, her arms crossed and eyes sharp, a hint of a challenging smile on her lips.
No words were needed. Layla squared her shoulders, feeling the familiar mix of nerves and resolve.
Without hesitation, she moved forward, falling into the rhythm of their training—swift strikes, precise footwork, each movement a battle against the shadows of her past.
Arwen's gaze never wavered, pushing her harder, but Layla met every challenge with steady breath and steady heart.
Today, she wasn't just training her body. She was reclaiming herself.
That afternoon, after training, a guard came to summon Layla. The Alpha wanted to see her.
When she entered the office, the Alpha sat silently, his gaze unreadable, while Cael—the Beta—stood nearby.
Cael spoke first, his tone calm but firm. "We were unable to get your full account earlier because you lost consciousness. You've been resting these past few days, and we did not wish to disturb you."
Layla nodded, steadying herself. She took a deep breath and explained briefly what had happened—the attack, the chase, and how she had ended up near the border of their park, wounded and barely alive.
The Alpha remained silent throughout, his presence alone conveying his judgment.
After they talked for a while, Layla was dismissed.
She left the Alpha's office feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on her chest. She made her way back to her room, each step heavy with exhaustion.
Once inside, she freshened up quickly, the motions automatic and distant. The memories she had shared clung to her like a shadow, draining what little energy remained.
She collapsed onto her bed, the soft sheets a small comfort against the storm inside her.
Sleep came quickly and deeply, a necessary escape from the heaviness of the day.
The days following Layla's meeting with the Alpha passed quietly, marked by gentle routines and steady care. Janet rarely left Layla's side, her presence a steady anchor in the storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface.
In the early mornings, they would head to the training field—slow, careful movements at first. Janet's patient guidance helped Layla reconnect with her body, one deliberate step at a time.
"Don't rush," Janet would remind her softly, adjusting Layla's stance or encouraging her to breathe through the ache. "You're stronger than you think."
Some afternoons, they'd sit together in the shade, talking or simply sharing silence. Janet never pressed for details for how she's feeling or what she's thinking, but listened when Layla chose to speak, offering comfort without expectation.
One evening, as the sun dipped low, Janet caught Layla's gaze and smiled gently.
"You're healing," she said quietly. "Not just the wounds others can see, but the ones inside." looking at Layla with so much pride shining in her eyes for her.
Layla looked away, a mix of gratitude and vulnerability flickering across her face.
"Thanks for not giving up on me," she whispered, happy to have someone who cares this much about her. She hasn't had such kind of comfort or support since her parents died and it's a nice feeling to know someonr is in your corner.
Janet squeezed her hand. "I'm not going anywhere." She assured, pulling her into a hug.
"Do you know what you need?" Janet asked, releasing Layla from the hug with a teasing smile.
"No… no… no," Layla stammered, eyes wide with a mix of comfort and terror. "Don't say it, don't say it," she pleaded, trying to wriggle free.
Janet's grin deepened, mischief sparkling in her eyes. "I will," she declared loudly. "A makeover, spa session, and clubbing!" she shouted gleefully, her voice echoing through the garden.
"Never!" Layla laughed as she bolted across the grass, the sound light and free. Janet chased after her, arms outstretched, laughing too.
The warm afternoon sun bathed them in golden light, and for a moment, the shadows lurking in Layla's mind lifted.
"You will," Janet promised, steady and sure, closing the distance between them.
Layla's laughter bubbled up uncontrollably, the heaviness in her chest easing as she savored the rare feeling of care and belonging.