Fated to a human

Haylie POV 

I found myself enveloped in complete darkness, standing in a place that was cold and foreboding. My breath came in shallow gasps as I glanced down, realizing my clothes had 

changed. The grand, red ball gown I'd worn before was gone, replaced by a plain white dress. 

I was no longer in the water. No longer anywhere I recognized. I stood frozen, utterly alone, fear creeping into my chest like a tightening vice. 

"Where am I?" I whispered, my voice trembling. The sound echoed back at me, a hollow repetition that did little to ease my growing panic. 

 A faint, dim light shone down on me, illuminating only the small patch of ground beneath my bare feet. It was so cold that I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself, rubbing my upper arms in a futile attempt to stay warm. 

"Hello? Is anyone out there?" I called out, my voice cracking. 

Silence. 

The emptiness pressed against me, unyielding and suffocating. Tears pricked my eyes as the chill seeped deeper into my bones. My lips trembled, my feet numb from the icy ground. I looked around, desperate for anything—any sign of life, of JC, or anyone familiar. 

Where was I? The last thing I remembered was being submerged in the water. And now… this. 

A sudden, sharp pain shot through my head, so intense it wrenched a scream from my throat. My hands flew to my head, clutching at my hair as the agony overwhelmed me. Another wave of pain followed, even sharper than the first, forcing me to my knees. 

I screamed again, the sound raw and desperate, as the cold darkness seemed to tighten its grip. My eyes squeezed shut against the pain, my body trembling. 

Just as abruptly as it had come, the pain began to fade, leaving me gasping for air. Slowly, I opened my eyes, blinking against the dim light. 

I was no longer in the void. 

The darkness was gone, replaced by a strange and unfamiliar place. I looked around, confusion and fear swirling in my chest. Nothing about this place made sense—it was as though I had been transported somewhere else entirely. 

I found myself in a forest, surrounded by towering trees whose branches tangled together to block out most of the light. The air was crisp, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and earth. I had no idea where I was or how I had gotten here. 

As I stood there, disoriented, faint voices reached my ears—people talking. Instinctively, I turned toward the sound. Maybe they could help me. 

Cautiously, I began walking in the direction of the voices. My bare feet crunched softly against the forest floor, and I kept my movements slow and quiet. As I got closer, the figures of three people came into view, and I ducked behind a tree to observe them. 

 The first was a tall young man, probably around 18, with dark brown hair that fell neatly over his forehead. He was handsome, with striking hazel eyes and long lashes that framed them. There was something familiar about him, though I couldn't place it. 

Beside him stood a woman with flowing red hair, her features so eerily similar to mine that I froze. My breath hitched as I studied her face—her delicate nose, her lips, even the way her hair caught the light. She was… me. Or at least, she looked exactly like me. 

But her clothing was different. She wore a green, off-the-shoulder summer top, paired with skinny jeans and flat shoes. I couldn't remember ever wearing something like that. 

Standing opposite them was another young man, also around 18. His blond hair glinted in the filtered sunlight, and his piercing blue eyes seemed to hold a quiet intensity. He had a strong jawline and a lean, athletic build that hinted at hours of physical training. 

I strained to hear their conversation. 

"Olivia, I want you to meet my old friend, Kyle," the dark-haired man said, his voice calm and steady. 

Olivia. That name sent a jolt through me. It sounded so familiar, but I couldn't figure out why. 

I watched as the woman extended her hand toward the blond man. "It's nice to meet you, Kyle," she said warmly. 

The blond man—Kyle—gave a small smile and shook her hand. 

My mind raced. Who were these people? The dark-haired man was named Matthew—I'd heard Kyle address him by that name—and the woman, Olivia, shared my face. Why? How? 

I leaned back against the tree as they began to walk away, their voices growing fainter. I didn't want to risk being seen, so I stayed hidden, holding my breath. 

But then I felt it. 

A presence. 

I turned my head slowly and froze. 

Standing a few feet away, a wolf as white as freshly fallen snow stared back at me. Its bright, intelligent eyes seemed to pierce through me, as though it could see into my very soul. 

My heart pounded, and I couldn't move. The wolf didn't growl or move closer. It simply stood there, watching me. 

I swallowed hard, my mind racing with questions. What was happening? 

Liam POV  

After the doctor completed my examination, I was finally discharged, though with strict instructions. My upper arm was still healing from the deep cuts inflicted by black magic, leaving faint traces of its dark touch on my skin. I was allowed to go home only on the condition that I took it easy—no transformations, no using my wolf for at least a few days. 

My heart and body were still in the delicate process of recovery, too fragile to endure any strain. 

Both my mother and father were present when the doctor handed me my discharge papers. I tried to stand on my own, but my legs betrayed me, trembling under the weight of my weakened body. 

 My father didn't hesitate, fetching a wheelchair and helping me into it. 

I swallowed my pride, a lump forming in my throat as he wheeled me through the sterile corridors of the hospital and out to where a car waited for us. 

The air outside was crisp, carrying a faint promise of rain. 

The helplessness hit me hard when my father gently lifted me from the wheelchair and into the back seat of the car. His strong arms steadied me, but I felt like a child again, dependent and fragile. It was a far cry from the strength I once had—the strength I desperately needed now. 

As he closed the door behind me, I caught a glimpse of my mother, already seated in the passenger side, glancing back with concern etched on her face. 

 My father climbed into the driver's seat, his jaw tight with unspoken worry. 

I leaned my head back against the seat, the soft hum of the car engine beginning to soothe me. 

 Yet, the sense of frustration gnawed at my insides. I wasn't a child, but the way they treated me now made me feel like one. It was suffocating. 

I used to heal quickly. My wolf's regenerative abilities always worked in my favor. 

 But now, with the lingering effects of the black magic, my body needed more time, and time was a luxury I didn't have. 

I clenched my fists weakly in my lap. Haylie needed me, and every moment spent recovering felt like an eternity separating me from her. 

As the car pulled away from the hospital, I stared out the window, watching the trees blur past. 

My thoughts spiraled with worry, guilt, and a burning determination. I would heal. I had to heal. For her. 

I rested my head against the car seat as we drove home. The car was silent, but I could see the stress in my father's eyes. He didn't say anything, but his body betrayed him—his grip on the wheel too tight, his shoulders tense. 

I didn't blame him. Everything was a mess. Aunt Camelia was dead, and I didn't even know if Haylie was still alive. The house she used to live in was destroyed. 

I let out a heavy sigh and turned to look out the window, watching the buildings blur past. "It's okay, Liam," my wolf's voice echoed softly in my mind. "I'm here for you. When you're strong enough, we'll find Haylie together." 

Closing my eyes briefly, I replied to him in my thoughts, "Thank you." I missed being able to transform, to feel the strength and freedom that came with it, but I knew I had to get stronger first. 

 Wherever Haylie was, I prayed she was safe. And Melody… I didn't care if she claimed to be carrying my child. That woman had no soul, and I couldn't trust a single word that came out of her mouth. 

The car came to a stop in front of our house's parking lot. I glanced out the window at the familiar sight of home. It felt like a lifetime since I'd been back, even though it had only been three days. 

I heard my father's door open first, followed by my mother's. A few moments later, my father opened my door and leaned down. "Let me help you out of the car," he said gently. 

I nodded and allowed him to assist me. My mother had already prepared the wheelchair, and my father carefully lifted me out of the car and into it. 

Once I was seated, I looked up at my father. His face was lined with worry, the tension clear in his expression. "The doctor said we could try giving you crutches tomorrow," he said softly, his voice hesitant. "You could see if you're ready to walk again." 

 I took a deep breath, the weight in my chest growing heavier. I glanced at my mother, searching for comfort. She offered a small smile and said, "Let's get you inside." Her voice was steady, but I could see through her brave front. 

She was trying so hard not to show her emotions, but it was there—in the way her hands fidgeted and her eyes darted nervously. 

No matter how much my parents tried to stay strong, I could feel their fear and worry. It cut deeper than I wanted to admit, knowing I was the cause of their pain. I didn't want them to feel this way—not for me. 

My father began pushing the wheelchair toward the house. As we drew closer, I noticed someone standing by the front door. For the first time in what felt like forever, a genuine smile crept onto my face. It was my old friend, Titan. 

A smile cross Titan lips as we come closer and I hear him say "Here come the man of the hour "say Titan with smile " I miss you man" 

A smile spread across my face as Titan approached, placing a firm yet reassuring hand on my shoulder. He stood beside the wheelchair, his brown eyes filled with genuine concern. "How are you feeling?" he asked softly. 

"I'm okay," I replied, though the words felt hollow. 

My mother's voice broke the moment. "Why don't you two head to the living room? I'll bring some warm beverages and something to eat," she said with a small but encouraging smile. 

I glanced at her, then turned my gaze toward my father, who quietly opened the front door and slipped inside without a word. His silence was heavy, but I didn't blame him. 

"Thank you, Mom," I said, my voice sincere but weighed down by exhaustion. I wished I could do more, to help ease their burdens, but I felt powerless—like my hands were tied, my energy drained. 

Titan moved behind the wheelchair, his hands gripping the armrests. "Hold on," he said gently before pushing me toward the house. 

The wheels rolled smoothly over the threshold as we entered. 

 Who would've thought I'd come home like this? But as soon as the familiar scent of home reached my senses, I felt an unexpected comfort. 

It was a balm to my weary soul, and for the first time in days, I allowed myself to feel the simple relief of being home. 

Everything was just as I remembered, unchanged by time. The only difference was me—I could no longer walk through the doorway on my own two feet. Instead, I sat confined to a wheelchair, feeling the weight of that reality settle over me. 

As Titan pushed me into the living room, he guided the wheelchair to the far end, near the window. 

The morning sun spilled through the glass, bathing my skin in its soft warmth. It felt wonderful, almost like a gentle reminder that life, despite everything, still held simple joys. 

The wheelchair came to a halt. "Is this, okay?" Titan asked, his voice careful. 

I looked around and realized where we were. The living room. The very same one where Haylie and I had last spent time together. In my mind, I could still see her sitting there, her face glowing with a shy smile as she blushed, looking at me. Except that was not Haylie and it was Melody. 

The memory hit me harder than I expected, and I could feel sadness full my heart but I pushed it aside and forced a nod. 

"This is fine," I said, reaching for the brakes on the wheelchair and pulling the lever up to lock it. 

Titan moved to the sofa in front of me, sinking into the cushions with ease. When I met his gaze, his expression was serious, his concern written all over his face. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and looked me straight in the eye. 

"Now, you've got to be real with me, man," he said, his voice low and full of worry. "How are you holding up? And don't just tell me you're okay—I know you better than that." 

My friend knew me better than anyone else—we'd been friends for as long as I could remember. 

I held his gaze for a long moment, then took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before I answered him. 

"Before I woke up in the hospital," I began, my voice heavy, "I had this dream. It felt so real, like I was actually there—with Haylie." 

My heart grew heavier as the words left my mouth. 

 I ran a hand through my hair, trying to steady myself before continuing. The memory of the dream surfaced vividly, stirring emotions I wasn't ready to face. 

 I turned my eyes to the window, staring out as I tried to calm the wave of sadness threatening to overtake me. My chest tightened, and I felt the sting of tears building. 

"What was the dream about, Liam?" Titan's voice cut through my thoughts, pulling me back. 

I turned to face him again, drawing in another breath before speaking. "I dreamt we were in a hospital room," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "Haylie was sitting on the bed... holding a baby in her arms." 

My words faltered, and I paused to keep the tears from falling. 

 It was harder to continue than I thought it would be. "It was our son," I finally managed, my voice breaking under the weight of the revelation. 

Titan's eyes widened; his shock evident. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, the housekeeper entered the room, carrying a silver tray. The silence was palpable as she set it down on the coffee table, arranging two mugs and a plate of biscuits and small sandwiches. 

Her movements were efficient, her presence a brief interruption in the charged atmosphere. 

Once the housekeeper left, Titan's voice broke through the stillness. "How is that possible? That dream—how could you dream about that?" he asked, his tone laced with both curiosity and concern. 

I turned my gaze back to him, shaking my head slightly. "I don't know," I replied, my voice low. "But the dream didn't end there. Just when it felt so real, I suddenly found myself underwater." 

Leaning forward, I wrapped my hands around the mug in front of me, letting its warmth seep into my palms. I brought it to my lips, taking a slow sip of coffee, trying to steady myself. 

"What happened?" Titan's voice came again, quieter this time, almost hesitant. 

I took a deep breath, then spoke. "I was underwater somehow, and I saw Haylie. She was wearing a red ball gown, floating in the water. But when I swam closer to her, she wasn't moving... Her eyes—they were cold and lifeless." My voice faltered, and I paused, gripping the mug tightly as I continued. "I called her name, but it was too late. She was already gone." 

 A single tear escaped, sliding down my cheek. The image of Haylie under the water was vivid in my mind, as if it had happened moments ago. The memory—or dream—was so sharp, so real, that it left a hollow ache in my chest. 

"Liam, do you think this means something?" Titan's voice shook slightly, betraying the unease he felt. 

My eyes met his, and I saw the shock and worry etched in his expression. "I don't know what it means," I admitted, my voice heavy with uncertainty. "But that dream—it felt real. Too real." 

I hoped Haylie was okay. Deep inside, I could feel my wolf releasing a silent howl, a cry of longing that echoed the ache in my chest. My heart howled for her, aching with the unbearable weight of missing her. 

I tried to keep my tears at bay, but one escaped, slipping down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away, unwilling to let my emotions overwhelm me. 

My throat felt thick with grief, a lump of unspoken fears and pain. To steady myself, I took another sip of coffee, letting its warmth attempt to ease the storm within me. My heart and my thoughts were at war, clashing relentlessly. I felt trapped, helpless in a body too weak to do anything, and it tore at me. 

"We'll find her, Liam," Titan's voice broke through my turmoil, firm but gentle. I turned to him, his words offering a glimmer of hope amidst the despair. 

"I know it's hard," he continued, his tone filled with genuine empathy. "I miss her too. Claudine's been going out of her mind missing her friend and wanting to bring her back. But we need a plan first. And in the meantime, you have to focus on getting stronger." 

I took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady the chaos inside me. 

Titan was right, but the truth was almost unbearable. This was the hardest thing I'd ever faced in my life—losing someone I loved and not knowing if she was safe or even alive. It was driving me crazy, the uncertainty gnawing at every corner of my mind. 

More than anything, I wanted to protect her, to keep her safe, and to bring her back home. But right now, I couldn't. That knowledge weighed heavy on me, crushing me with guilt and helplessness.