Chapter Five
POV
Mira
The Farewell and the Shadow
Mama always said a mother's eyes could see what a child's heart tried to hide. That morning, as I folded the last of my clothes into the small suitcase by my bed, her eyes were sharper than ever; sharp enough to cut through the walls I had built inside myself.
"You've been… different," she said softly, sitting on the edge of the mattress. Her wrapper was tied loosely around her waist, her headscarf slipping to one side. "Since you started this passport matter. Quiet. Distant. Like your spirit is walking in two worlds." It is the truth' I wish I can share my dreams with her but I know; if I did, Mama will not leave me to travel out of Nigeria. I felt bad to keep this secret because I always share my troubles with her, she is my best friend, my good listener and judge; I will always miss her.
Her voice was calm, but I could hear the worry threaded through it. Mama had always been the first to notice when something shifted in me; when joy turned to silence, when confidence turned to hiding.
And she was right. I was walking between two worlds - one human, one… I didn't understand yet.
"It's just stress, Mama," I lied, my voice too light, too practiced. "The travel. The waiting. You know how Nigeria is."
'Her brow creased, 'her gaze steady and unyielding. "Don't lie to me, Mimi."
"I froze".
She reached for my hand, her palm warm and familiar. "You think I don't see it? Your eyes burn as though they've seen something not of this world."
'My throat tightened painfully. How could I tell her? How could I explain the dreams; the forest that whispered my name, the golden eyes that haunted me, the wolf that had saved me from harm as if he'd been sent by something greater?
How could I make her understand that I hadn't just seen something'. 'I had felt something awaken inside me that night?
"I'll be fine," I whispered instead, forcing a smile. "I just need this new beginning."
Her gaze lingered on me, full of knowing. She didn't believe me, not entirely. Mama's silence said more than words ever could.
Then she sighed, pulling me into her arms.
The scent of palm oil, soap, and lavender powder filled my lungs -the scent of home, of safety. I held her tightly, wishing I could carry her with me.
"America no be home," she murmured into my ear. "But you must carry home in your heart. Whatever is chasing you… face it before you go."
"How can I face what I don't know, or know that it's existing!
Her words made my chest ache. I didn't know if what was chasing me was danger or destiny.
'When she finally released me, her eyes were bright but steady. "You go make me proud, my daughter.
But remember- some things you can't run from. Some things will follow you, even across the sea."
I didn't know how right she was.
The house was unusually quiet after she left my room. My suitcase sat by the door, neatly packed; a picture of control I didn't feel.
'On my desk lay the remains of my old life: neatly stacked files from Dalesman+Mainstream Petrochemical -contracts, project reports, investor lists. Proof of the empire I had built from the ground up.
'My position as Managing Director had always been more than a job. 'It had been armor. I'd learned to stand tall among men who doubted me, to speak with calm conviction in rooms thick with ego and power.
'I remembered that last board meeting before I resigned.
"Madam Mira," one of the directors had said, leaning back in his leather chair, "if we close this deal with the Warri refinery before quarter end, we go break records o."
I had smiled faintly, tapping my stylus against the tablet in front of me. "Only if our investors stay disciplined. No more empty promises. We need stability, not just headlines."
The room had gone quiet for a beat. Then nods followed; some approving, others grudging. In the Nigerian corporate world, authority from a young woman was tolerated, not celebrated. But I'd earned mine; through sleepless nights, strategic risks, and a voice that refused to tremble.
'That version of me', composed, unshakable - now felt far away. The woman staring back from the mirror was split in two: Mira the MD and Mira the haunted.
When dawn broke, I sat on the veranda one last time with Mama. 'The sky was painted soft pink and gold, the call to prayer echoing faintly from the distance.
She held my hands and prayed for God to guide my ways-in a strange land with no family ties but I assured her, I will be fine; 'and if for whatever reason I can't cope, I will call home!
She poured me a cup of tea. Neither of us spoke much. Every word felt too heavy, every silence too loud.
'When the cab arrived, she rose, adjusted her scarf, and touched my face with trembling fingers. "Go well, my child."
"Mama" 'My voice broke before I could finish. Right from that moment I know I am leaving home, 'I am leaving my family! 'I am leaving my beloved MaMa..... "No longer the Mama's baby who lean or lay on her lab to be cuddled". My Papa brother's and neighbors'. 'I am leaving Nigeria!
She smiled, tears glinting. "Go. Before I change my mind."
The airport buzzed with the sound of goodbyes.
Families crowded near check-in counters, clutching passports, luggage, and one another. Children cried, porters shouted, voices blended in a chaos of languages. '
'The smell of coffee, perfume, and jet fuel filled the air.
I moved through the terminal in a daze, clutching my small suitcase. My heart beat in a rhythm that didn't match the crowd's noise; it matched something else, something deeper.
As I joined the queue for boarding, a familiar scent brushed past me -rain, forest, and something wild.
'My breath hitched!
'Slowly, I turned.
And there he was.
Across the hall, standing still amidst the rush of travelers, 'was a man.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dressed in black. His presence parted the noise like a blade through water.
'His eyes!
Even from a distance, I knew. "The Alpha King"
The crowd shifted between us; a blur of color, faces, movement but his golden eyes never left mine. They burned like fire, steady, unyielding, pulling me in as surely as gravity itself.
'I wanted to move. To run to him. To demand answers. Why me? Why now? What are you?
'But my feet were rooted to the ground!
A boarding announcement cracked overhead: "Passengers for Flight 342 to Florida, please proceed to Gate C."
My chest tightened. The invisible thread between us stretched taut, vibrating with something ancient and painful.
"Mira!" a woman behind me snapped in irritation. "Abeg, move now. You dey block road."
The sound jolted me back. I stepped forward, clutching my passport like a lifeline.
When I looked back again.
'He was gone!
The spot where he'd stood was empty. Only shadows remained.
On the plane, exhaustion finally caught up with me. As the engines roared and Abuja shrank beneath me, I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes.
I should've been thinking about the future; the refinery meetings in Houston, the energy summit in Florida, the investors expecting polished speeches and corporate precision.
Instead, "I thought of the wolf".
"The Alpha King!
'Of the way the air had crackled between us that night on the road.
I thought of his promise; the one I'd heard without words.
'That I was his!
That he would find me.
That our fates were already entwined.
Somewhere between the rumble of the plane and the hum of the engines, I drifted into sleep.
'The forest again!
The same moonlight spilling silver through the trees. The scent of pine and rain-soaked earth.
He stepped out of the shadows - no longer a wolf, but a man. His skin glowed faintly in the moonlight, the strength of a thousand lifetimes in his stance.
He reached for me, his hand steady, his gaze burning.
"You can't run from what's written in your blood," he said softly, his voice carrying both warning and tenderness.
I tried to speak, but the air around us pulsed with energy; the same hum that had wrapped around me that night in Abuja.
"No ocean can keep you from me, Mira," he whispered, his voice curling around my soul. "Wherever you go… I will follow."
He touched my cheek, and the world trembled.
I woke with tears streaking down my face, my chest tight, my heart wild.
The flight attendants were moving down the aisle, offering trays of food and coffee, their voices muffled beneath the echo of his words.
Outside the window, clouds stretched like endless white seas.
Somewhere beyond them, fate was moving.
I wasn't just flying to America.
I was flying straight into the arms of destiny.