It snowed that night after the burial. Thick white cover blanketed the earth ever since.

The frost painted with expert brushes beautiful shapes on my window glass, new ones to discover each morning as I sat by my place to the window in my rocking chair.

Just gazing out in hope for the smallest glimpse of him.

I would hear the wolf howling at night, chanting its song for me to listen to or maybe because it was the animal's nature and it enjoyed the sound.

Perhaps it was fear that gripped my chest, perhaps it was me sinking deeper into depression, but I never set a foot into the woods for these couple of weeks.

I couldn't be the one to seek him out into the cover of the forest when he was the one who left. I just couldn't do that.

He needed to come on his own, yet even if he did, I wasn't sure I was going to take him back.

After weeks of waiting, staying put, avoiding everyone but the woman who imposed her company on me by coming several times a day to check that I was healthy and fed, I didn't know how much I could wait before I gave up.

My patience was running thin and I was already starting to accept that him wanting me had always depended on that broken bond. And I needed neither if this was the truth.

Sometimes, I even felt at peace with my universe without him, with the fact that I was going to raise the child inside of me on my own.

And after the message I'd received a week ago, I knew the pack was going to support my decision.

Three weeks after his disappearance into the wild, even his own sister had stopped to plead his cause with me.

Rising from my seat, I went to rummage through the wardrobe. Laying out cloth after cloth on the bed, I put several layers on my body, shoving the rings' chain from Lucas under and brushing my hair back.

The mirrors—one in the bathroom and one here—were both still covered with the black curtains, but I no longer needed them to make myself presentable.

I had no need to prove myself to anyone and no one expected me to. Actions spoke the loudest.

The knock sounded just when I had wrapped my scarf around my neck. "Come in," I called.

It was probably Healer coming to fetch me out with her sudden development of having the habit to tremble over me every time she had the opportunity.

To say the least, it was more annoying than anything else.

Quiet steps followed as she made her way in and then said, "They are gathered and waiting for you."

Having expected Christine, I almost jumped from the surprise of hearing Oracle's voice. She had been in recovery for a while but Christine had patched the older woman up quite quickly. Almost a week after her admission into the hospital wing of the house, Oracle had walked out of it on her own, or at least, that was what Christine said.

Looking at the older woman and noticing the healthy glow she had regained, I was willing to believe Healer's words.

That, however, didn't change how I felt toward the white-haired witch. She had lied to me which resulted in Lucas' death, and I'd be damned if I ever forgave her for toying with me like this—her and Michael who obviously schemed the whole thing together.

"Let's go then. We don't want to keep the pack waiting," I gritted out in answer to her and made my way toward the door.

Tonight was the first time I was going to venture into the woods. A week ago, Christine had relayed beta Jason's message to me and a day of consideration later, I'd sent him my answer.

The pack wanted a bond and a leader, and they wanted me to provide them with both. With or without Regan, life had to go on, and so did I.

I was going to shoulder the responsibility and tonight we were going to meet the first full moon of the first season of the year together. Like one.

"Let them wait. I need to talk to you, Scarlet," Oracle said, stopping me with my hand clasped over the doorknob.

I glanced over my shoulder, meeting her blank eyes. "I have nothing to say to you and I'd rather not listen to your lies." Again, I added silently.

She sighed. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning so I'll be out of your hair very soon, but please... just hear me out this once."

It was the first time her voice was that gentle, almost pleading and sure, the woman was a master at manipulation, but I was still curious what she was going to say.

Maybe just once I could...

"Speak," I said before I'd changed my mind. I didn't offer her to seat or say anything else. I just waited with my hands folded over my chest.

For a few moments her jaw worked like she was chewing on the words she needed to say, and then she finally spoke.

"I think he's stuck as a wolf, Scarlet," she blurted, her statement not making any sense at all.

I shook my head. "A mistake, apparently. Better go bug someone else with these riddles because I'm done listening to you, Oracle," I told her and turned to leave.

"Wait, Scarlet!" Once again she interrupted my departure, this time closing fingers around my elbow. She was like a mosquito that bit you again and again just for the heck of it.

"What?" I snapped.

"Regan is stuck. He's been calling you every night. He's been asking you to help him. Don't you realize that, Scarlet?" she spurted, not even breathing in her determination to let me know what she was thinking, or what the 'divine' had disclosed to her.

"Explain it to me. How is he stuck?" I asked, doubt lacing each syllable.

Regan left me and there was nothing to it than him being an asshole.

"You broke two bonds that night, Scarlet. The pack bond and your bond to him, and he took the whole impact. You could have killed the whole pack if he didn't do that and he survived through it too..." she trailed off.

It was one of these moments when you just knew a 'but' was coming.

"He's like them now, the wildlings. He's stuck in between. He needs help to come back, Scarlet. He can't change..."

I didn't wait for her to finish. I ran.

The snow crunched under my feet as I sprinted toward the forest, calling his name as soon as I entered the tree line.

Again and again and again.

Hoping he would hear. Praying I wasn't coming too late. Losing track of time.

I didn't know when it happened—minutes or hours later—but hearing the sound of thundering feet had me instantly in tears.

In a heartbeat, he was slithering his way through the trees, stopping at the only illuminated patch in the small clearing right in front of me. He was moving on two feet, but looked nothing like a human, and nothing like a wolf.

He wore the same shirt from before, a pair of jeans that were barely recognizable now. The shreds of clothing.

"Will you change back for me? Can you change back for me, Regan?" I said, slowly inching my palm toward his cheek, resting my fingers against it, trying to stop their nervous tremors.

The wolf watched me with its spring eyes - human eyes that glinted with the wild's intelligence.

Regan wasn't completely gone. He was still Regan - a wilder, savager, much more terrifying version of himself, but was he my Regan?

"Please, change back for me," I whispered, wishing with my voice aloud as the tears flowed out freely.

The wildling stared at me for a long time, inspecting me with his mistrustful eyes before a guttural sound escaped Regan's throat and he turned back, crouching down, folding into himself.

More of these same sounds followed - not groans, not howls, not panting that came from the bottom of the lungs, it was none of that, but it was still pain. Notes of it resonated with each tear in the fresh and every crack in the bone.

Time was crawling.

It felt like hours when I saw the man, huddled into himself and shivering in the snow.

Slipping off my coat, I placed it on him, hoping it was going to provide him a bit of warmth but too afraid to approach him yet.

Did he want me to get closer or to walk away?

"There should be clothes hidden somewhere here," I muttered, feeling uncomfortable in the silence. Just listening to the clatter of his teeth.

A minute later, my search rewarded me with a pair of male jeans that were going to fit him and a wooden blouse. Returning to where he was still in the same position on the ground, I offered him the clothes and he took them, quickly donning the jeans but leaving the blouse on the ground next to him.

"You should take it," I told him, avoiding to glance at his bare feet.

His eyes met mine. Stared.

"It's very cold out here," I stated.

"Tell me..." The words came out rough. He cleared his throat, trying again. "Is this real?"