Chapter 62
The week passed by slowly. Every day since my first physiotherapy session had been a journey of its own.
There were plenty of days when Dante had meetings to attend or training to complete, but he never failed to check in on me.
Since he refused to let me go to physiotherapy alone, his mother had practically insisted on becoming my escort whenever he couldn't make it.
And honestly, I didn't mind one bit.
Forget Abdie and his constant teasing. Dante's mother was a breath of fresh air. She never failed to make me smile, laugh, or encourage me whenever therapy became difficult. Somewhere along the way, she'd become someone I genuinely looked forward to spending time with.
Currently, the three of us-Mama (Dante's mother) , Abdie, and I-were sitting in one of the hospital gardens enjoying lunch together. The spread was surprisingly generous, with roasted meats, grilled chicken, fresh salads, and bowls of colorful fruit and pastries. I made sure to eat my fill.
Lately, I'd been eating a lot more than usual. The doctors said it was completely normal. My body needed the extra energy to heal, and the hormonal changes I was going through only added to my appetite. I was noticeably rounder than I had been before.
Dante loved teasing me about it.
He'd joke that soon he'd need both arms just to carry me around, only to immediately add that I'd never be a burden to him. No matter how much I weighed, he'd carry me without complaint.
"Ferial, dear," Mama called gently, drawing my attention away from Abdie, who was enthusiastically stuffing his face with pastries.
I smiled as I looked over at her.
"Yes, Mama?" I asked.
"You mentioned your grandmother earlier this week," Mama said thoughtfully. "The village-or was it the district?-that she came from... you said they worshipped the Goddess?"
"Yes... why?" I replied, surprised she'd remembered such a small detail, let alone brought it up.
"I spoke to my sister about it," she explained.
"She told me there are many human communities that worship the Goddess.
But you also mentioned the way your grandmother practised her faith.
" She paused, choosing her words carefully.
"It made me wonder if your grandmother might have had some connection to the werewolf world. "
Shock didn't even begin to describe what I felt.
A knot tightened in my stomach. I didn't know why her words bothered me so much, but they did.
Worshipping the Goddess didn't make someone a werewolf.
There was a difference between faith and race.
My grandmother had been a devoted worshipper.
She had prayed, observed traditions, and lived by her beliefs, but that didn't automatically mean she belonged to another species.
...Did it?
Or was I letting my emotions get in the way because this was my grandmother they were talking about?
I lowered my gaze to my plate, suddenly unsure of what to say.
Part of me wanted to dismiss the idea outright.
Another part couldn't ignore the strange events that had surrounded my life since coming here.
What if there were things about my grandmother-even about my family-that I'd never known?
"You also mentioned that your grandparents raised you from birth," Mama continued gently. "That you've never really known your parents. You once told us that, when you were little, you remembered a man visiting you. You remember his smile... but you can't quite remember his face."
Abdie stopped eating, his attention shifting entirely to us. He seemed to sense that the conversation had wandered into dangerous territory. I took a slow, steady breath before answering.
"Yes... that's true." I looked down at my plate.
"I try not to think about it anymore. I don't really care." The words tasted bitter on my tongue and heavy in my heart.
"No matter the circumstances, it doesn't excuse abandoning your child." Mama's expression softened as said that. She didn't argue. Instead, she slowly nodded, and I caught the sadness in her eyes.
"I understand why you feel that way." She hesitated before continuing. "You also told us about the time your district's Alpha chose you and a few other children to visit the aquarium." I nodded once.
"Baby... that's not something most Alphas do. They might grant permission for children to go on an outing, but personally selecting them, assigning guards to accompany them, and providing that level of protection..." She shook her head. "That isn't normal." I frowned.
"Oh? Well... the human children needed protection.
" My voice had become sharper than I'd intended.
"The government are responsible for our safety there too or are we once again the gutter rats that you make us out to be.
" The irritation simmering inside me was beginning to boil over.
It no longer felt like a conversation but rather like an interrogation.
"Ferial?" Abdie said quietly, pushing his chair back as if to come closer. I shook my head. Nobody was going to make the pain inside disappear. I felt violated that I myself gave anyone so much information about myself.
"No." If I hadn't been confined to a wheelchair, I would have stormed away. "I'm done talking about my sad little life growing up."
Without looking at either of them, I raised a hand and gestured to one of the nearby nurses.
She understood immediately. A moment later, she carefully helped me into my wheelchair.
Neither Mama nor Abdie tried to stop me.
My guards silently fell into step as the nurse wheeled me away, back toward the estate.
The tears came long before we arrived. I stared blankly ahead as the gardens, pathways, and buildings blurred together through watery eyes. I was furious.
Not because Mama had meant any harm. I knew she hadn't.
She had only been trying to understand, perhaps even make conversation.
Yet every question had peeled back wounds I'd spent years trying to bury.
The parents who had never wanted me. The memories I couldn't reach.
The loneliness that was never too far away.
The feeling of never quite belonging anywhere all came back.
By the time we reached the estate, I'd cried myself into exhausted silence.
The front doors opened before we even stopped.
Dante was already there waiting on me. The moment our eyes met, I saw it in his expression.
He knew what happened. Maybe Mama had called him when i left or maybe Abdie had sent a message to him.
Or maybe...
He simply came to know me well enough to recognize the heartbreak written all over my face.