Fated to a human

Haylie POV  

As I moved through my childhood years, a flood of memories washed over me when I arrived at the scene of my fifth year in my life. 

 The park, filled with vibrant colors and the sound of children's laughter, held a special place in my heart. The scent of freshly cut grass mingled with the sweet aroma of chocolate ice cream, my favorite treat. My mother and I walked hand in hand, the warmth of her touch comforting me as we made our way to the car. 

Approaching our house, the porch creaked beneath my feet, and I caught a whiff of Aunt Camelia's perfume, a mix of floral and musk. 

She sat there, patiently waiting for my mother, her voice carrying through the air as she mentioned Matthew's name. Intrigued, I furrowed my brow, trying to recall the last time I saw him. 

It had been five long years since that day in the hospital. 

 Inside, the kitchen bustled with activity. The clinking of dishes echoed, accompanied by the sound of my mother's soft humming. 

The wooden table, worn and weathered, served as the centerpiece for our family meals. Uncle Jacob's boisterous laughter filled the room as he recounted stories from his day. The warm glow of the kitchen lights enveloped us, creating a sense of comfort and security. 

 After supper, my mother led me to the bathroom, the cool tiles under my feet contrasting with the warmth of the water. As I finished my bath, I caught a glimpse of my younger self running down the hallway, leaping onto the sofa with a burst of energy. 

 "Loony Tunes!" I exclaimed excitedly, calling out to my uncle. Bugs Bunny and his animated adventures always brought a smile to my face. 

 Curiosity piqued; I followed my mother back to the kitchen. She stood there, engrossed in a serious conversation with Aunt Camelia, their voices hushed. 

The scent of dish soap lingered in the air, mingling with the tension that seemed to weigh on every corner of the room. My mother's expression tightened as she spoke to Aunt Camelia, her voice barely above a whisper. Though she tried to hide it, the flicker of old feelings for Matthew betrayed her. I could see how it pained her to mask them, her hands trembling slightly as she returned to her chores. 

When she finished, she stepped into the living room where the little me sat snuggled against Uncle Jacob, fast asleep on the sofa. A soft smile tugged at my lips as I watched the scene unfold—a memory I hadn't visited in years. I used to love these moments, curled up with cartoons and family, safe and content. 

Quietly, I followed her as she bent down and scooped the younger me into her arms. She held me close, the kind of embrace only a mother could give, and carried me to the bedroom. 

Once there, she laid the little me on the big bed, tucking me in with the kind of care that felt like a ritual of love. My younger self stirred, blinking drowsily. 

"Mommy?" the little me murmured, barely audible. 

"Yes, sweetie," my mother whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her voice was warm, like a lullaby. 

"I love you, Mommy," I heard myself say, my voice tinged with the haze of sleep. 

Her emerald eyes glistened as she leaned down, her smile soft and full of unspoken emotion. "I love you more," she said, brushing a hand through my hair before pulling me into a gentle hug. 

"Goodnight, Mommy," the little me murmured, eyes fluttering closed. 

"Goodnight, sweetie. Remember, Mommy loves you so much," she said, her voice cracking slightly as she kissed my cheek. 

Standing invisible in the corner, I felt tears sting my eyes, mirroring the emotion in my mother eyes. Her hand lingered on the younger Me's, holding it gently as she stayed by my side, waiting until I drifted into a deeper sleep. 

I stood there, taking in this memory of my life. I wished I could freeze time forever, to hold onto this precious moment of my mother. 

 But as I stood still, the ground beneath me began to shift. Anxiety crept in as I glanced around, watching everything dissolve into thin air. Suddenly, I was no longer standing in the bedroom but surrounded by towering trees—I was back in the forest. 

It was dark, with moonlight breaking through the tall pines, casting faint cascades of light to see by. 

The wind was cold, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself to ward off the icy chill. I wondered what part of my life this memory belonged to. 

I looked around, listening to the distant cry of an owl high in the trees and the chorus of crickets filling the night air. Then, I heard two voices—familiar voices—drifting through the stillness. 

Curious, I followed the sound, each step bringing the voices into sharper focus. I halted behind a tree, my breath catching in my throat. The voices belonged to my mother and Mathew. 

Hidden, I watched them. They stood close, their conversation serious, their expressions somber. 

"I will always love you, Olivia, even if you betrayed me," Mathew said, his voice raw with emotion. 

I stepped closer, unable to resist, and watched as his voice took on an even deeper, heartfelt tone. 

"You are the only one who holds my heart," he added. 

My eyes darted to my mother, whose lips parted as she gasped for air. Tears shimmered in her emerald-green eyes as she looked at Mathew. 

My heart shattered into a million pieces. Mathew might not have been my father, but the love he held for my mother was undeniable. It was real, and it was deeply painful for him. 

"I need to go," my mother said, her voice trembling as tears slipped down her cheeks. 

I wiped my own tears away, watching as she turned to leave, but Mathew reached out, grabbing her wrist. He pulled her closer until their bodies collided, and then he kissed her. 

I froze, my mouth falling open as I witnessed the scene—the intensity of their kiss, raw and passionate. I didn't know whether to look away or keep watching. Then, my mother broke the kiss, stepping back. 

"I can't—I can't do this," she said, her voice cracking with emotion. "I'm scared that I'll hurt you again." 

"Olivia, please," Mathew whispered, desperation etched into every word. "We can figure this out. We always have." 

I stood there, frozen, as I absorbed the scene before me—two people who were still in love after all these years. Mathew was clearly not ready to move on, and the raw pain etched on their faces was undeniable. My own breath hitched in my throat as I watched the heart-wrenching moment unfold. 

"I have to go," I heard my mother mutter, her voice thick with emotion as she stepped back. 

My gaze darted between them. My mother's eyes were red and swollen, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks, while Mathew's face mirrored her anguish, his own tears falling freely. 

"Olivia, please… just give us a chance," Mathew pleaded, his voice broken and desperate. "I still love you, and I'll never stop loving you." 

Something shifted in my mother's expression—her eyes softened at his words, but her response was a dagger of sorrow. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'll always love you too, but I can't risk hurting you again, like I did before." 

And with that, she turned and ran into the forest, her silhouette disappearing among the shadows of the trees. 

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I tried to wipe them away, but my heart clenched painfully as I looked back at Mathew. He broke. I had never seen such a strong, powerful man crumble like this. His body trembled with grief, his shoulders heaving, and tears poured down his face as if there was no end to his sorrow. 

I never knew this side of my mother's past. Mathew's love for her was deep and unrelenting, a love that had endured unimaginable pain. 

I took a hesitant step closer, compelled to reach out to Mathew, but before I could, a piercing scream ripped through the air, chilling me to the bone. Every hair on my body stood on end. 

It was my mother's scream. 

My eyes snapped to Mathew, who instantly bolted into the forest, chasing the sound. Without a second thought, I followed him, fear and adrenaline propelling me forward. 

Liam POV 

I barely slept that night after Melody's visit. The thought of Haylie—her absence, the fact that she was gone—kept me awake, gnawing at me like an open wound. And Melody… Melody carrying my child was a nightmare I couldn't escape. 

Guilt and hatred clawed at me relentlessly. I wanted her gone. I wanted this madness to end, for everything to go back to the way it was when it was just me and Haylie. 

As the first rays of sunlight stretched across the horizon, I was already awake and dressed. My body had recovered from its wounds, and my strength had returned, but my heart remained shattered, leaving me numb. I threw on a hoodie, jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers, then made my way to the witch's house—the house where Haylie had lived. 

Resting wasn't an option. My wolf was restless and eerily silent, barely speaking to me since the moment Melody had appeared. The bond between us felt fractured, almost as broken as I was. 

When I arrived at the house, I stopped in my tracks. My father was already there with some of the pack members, clearing away the wreckage. My chest tightened as I took in the sight. The house, once beautiful and alive with Haylie's presence, was now a pile of shattered wood and dust. 

"Liam, what are you doing here?" my father called out, surprise lacing his voice. 

I took a deep breath and walked toward him, stopping on what used to be the front porch. "I couldn't stay," I admitted, my voice raw. "I needed to get out… to see if there was something…" I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. 

My father sighed heavily, his expression clouded with concern. "My guards will head out again today to search for Haylie's body," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Once they find her… we can give her and Camelia a proper ceremony." 

His words were like a dagger to my chest. A funeral. I wasn't ready to say goodbye to Haylie. Tears welled up in my eyes, my gaze dropping to the ground. My eyes were still raw from the crying I'd done, but the grief kept pouring out. 

Everything was covered in dust, shattered into fragments of what it once was. It was hard to believe that this had been a home—a place filled with warmth and memories. As I walked closer, the crunch of broken wood beneath my feet filled the silence. 

The pack members worked steadily, hauling what was left of the furniture to the truck, each piece a reminder of what had been lost. 

I took a deep breath, but all I inhaled was the acrid scent of burnt wood and thick black dust. My chest tightened as I scanned the debris. Shattered furniture, broken beams, splintered memories—until something caught my eye. 

Amid the wreckage, something small and delicate glinted faintly through the layers of ash and dust. I knelt down, brushing away the grime with trembling fingers. As the soot cleared, my breath hitched. It was Haylie's necklace. 

My heart shattered all over again as a thick knot of emotion rose in my throat. It was her necklace—the one she had sworn never to take off. Her mother's necklace. The charm, though dusty and tarnished, still held its unmistakable shape, an emblem of everything she held dear. 

Tears blurred my vision as I clutched it in my hand, the weight of it both comforting and devastating. I tried to wipe the charm clean with my thumb, but no amount of effort could remove the ash or the ache in my chest. 

Where had it been? Why wasn't she wearing it when I last saw her? Questions swirled in my mind, unanswered and unrelenting. 

I struggled to rise from my kneeling position, my legs heavy with grief. Just then, I heard my wolf's voice, quiet and strained in my head. 

"Liam, let's go home." His pain mirrored mine, a shared anguish that was too much to bear. And though I couldn't blame him, I wasn't ready to leave. Not yet. 

I reached out to my wolf. "Ace, I know this is hard, but maybe we could find something of Haylie here," I said, my voice trembling with a hope I wasn't sure I believed in. 

A deep, sorrowful growl resonated through me. "What do you expect to find? She's gone, Liam. All of this... it's just a memory of her." 

His words struck me like a blow, forcing me to take a shaky breath. It was just a memory. What did I truly expect to uncover here? Something that would make it hurt less? Something that would undo the reality I couldn't bring myself to face? 

I looked around at the devastation, the broken remains of what once held so much life and love. 

Silent tears slipped down my cheeks, each one a testament to the unbearable weight of her absence. The heaviness of her death pressed on me like an anchor, refusing to let go. 

The pain was sharp, relentless, but my body felt numb. I couldn't stay here any longer. My legs moved on their own, carrying me away from the house. I didn't care where I was headed—I just needed to get away. Away from the ruins. Away from the memories. Away from the suffocating truth I wasn't ready to accept. 

As I walked, the world around me blurred, my mind clouded with grief. All I wanted was to escape the ache in my chest, but no matter how far I went, the pain followed.