I wiped the steam from the mirror with the back of my hand and stared at myself.
For a long moment, I didn't recognize the person looking back.
My hair had grown far too long, uneven and wild, falling into my eyes in a way that made me look unkempt. It curled at the ends from neglect, strands sticking out in directions that made it obvious no one had cared for it in a very long time not even me. My face looked thinner than I remembered, cheekbones sharper, skin dull. And the bags under my eyes were so dark they made me look sick. Like a ghost haunting a body that hadn't quite caught up yet.
I leaned closer to the mirror, examining myself like I was some stranger.
Ugly.
Unkept.
Out of place.
This bathroom looked like something out of a magazine. It has marble floors, golden accents and mirrors framed in polished metal. Everything gleamed. Everything screamed luxury. And then there was me, standing barefoot on the cold tile, wearing nothing but borrowed clothes and exhaustion.
Anyone could tell I didn't belong here. You didn't need to be a genius. You didn't even need to look twice.
I dropped my gaze to the clothes Soren had prepared for me and folded neatly on the counter. They were beautiful with soft fabric and neutral colors. They were clean and new. You could tell just by looking at it.
I picked it up and frowned.
It was huge.
The sleeves were too long, the shoulders too broad. The trousers weren't much better; they would definitely slide down if I wasn't careful. But wearing my old clothes wasn't an option. Those clothes smelled like dirt, blood, sweat, and fear. They carried memories I didn't want to drag into this place.
So I put the clothes on anyway.
The sweater swallowed me whole, hanging off my frame like it belonged to someone twice my size. I rolled the sleeves up once, then twice. The trousers sat awkwardly on my hips, loose and uncomfortable, but at least they were clean.
I stared at myself again.
I still didn't fit.
"Holland?"
Soren's voice reached me through the door, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I flinched, my heart jumping before I could stop it.
"I…yeah," I called back quickly.
I finished dressing in a hurry, smoothing the sweater down even though it didn't help much. After taking one last look in the mirror, I opened the bathroom door.
"Hi," I said softly.
Soren stood just outside, leaning casually against the wall. When he saw me, his eyes lit up.
"Oh, you look good in that," he said with a smile. "It just needs to be made your size a little."
I glanced down at myself, uncomfortable. "Yeah."
He didn't comment on how tired I looked. He didn't stare too long. He didn't ask questions.
"I thought you might be hungry," Soren said, stepping aside to reveal a tray of food placed neatly on the small table near the bed.
I froze.
The smell hit me first. It smelled of warm bread, soup and something lightly spiced. My stomach twisted painfully in response, reminding me how long it had been since I'd eaten a proper meal.
"You didn't have to," I said quietly, even though my body clearly disagreed.
"Oh, it's okay," Soren replied easily. "You need to eat."
I nodded and walked toward the table. The food looked simple but comforting. Not extravagant. Not intimidating. Just… food.
"Thank you," I said.
"It's nothing," he replied, already moving toward the door. "I'd like to have a chat with you, but that can wait until tomorrow, yeah?"
"Uh…" I hesitated.
"I think you need time to yourself," Soren said gently, as if reading the thoughts I hadn't said out loud.
Before I could respond, he smiled once more and closed the door behind him.
The room fell silent.
I stood there for a moment, unsure what to do with myself. No shouting. No orders. No fear crawling up my spine. Just silence.
I slowly sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at my wrist.
The mark was still there.
The ancient text wrapped around my skin like it belonged there, like it had always been meant to be there.
I was really part of this pack now.
The thought made my chest ache.
Did that mean the forest pack would never get me again?
The moment Andrew died, the bond shattered. I remember the pain and all but I was too busy processing the fact that he was dead to care about the pain.
His mark disappeared with him, leaving nothing behind but scars that no one could see.
There was no fight between marks.
No claiming.
No force.
That meant the forest pack would never know where I went. They would never sense me. Never track me. Never drag me back.
I pressed my lips together, my vision blurring.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to curl into myself and disappear.
Was I really free?
Or was this just another temporary illusion of safety?
I lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The mattress was soft. My body tensed instinctively, unused to comfort. It took a few minutes before I realized I wasn't going to be punished for resting.
Could I start a new life here? Was I allowed to?
Would Novaterra truly let me stay?
Would I finally get to exist without fear following me everywhere I went?
I didn't know.
And maybe that was okay.
For now.
I sat back up and pulled the tray closer, forcing myself to eat slowly. Every bite warmed me from the inside out, easing the ache in my bones. When I finished, exhaustion hit me like a wave.
I lay down again, pulling the blanket over myself.
For the first time in a long time, I wasn't scared of falling asleep.
And that alone felt like a miracle.