Page 8 of Wolf Revealed

He nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. "I was afraid of the dangers that followed me. My alpha would eventually hunt me since I had escaped her oppression. I couldn't bear the thought of you getting hurt because of me. Kadence is very jealous."

The sincerity in his voice stirred something within me, softening the hardened shell I'd built around my heart. The anger and resentment I'd held onto for so long seemed to lose their grip. I was still hurt, but I found myself trying to understand his perspective and intentions.

I stared into the fire, my mind wrestling with his words. It was then I decided to open up about my dreams and memories. Perhaps it was his honesty, the understanding look in his eyes, or the gentle rhythm of the sea, but something spurred me to share.

"Ronan," I began, my voice just above a whisper, "ever since we started this journey, I've been having dreams... and memories, about my past, about our past."

He turned to face me, his interest piqued. His eyes softened, his body language showing his readiness to listen, to understand.

"These dreams, they're more like flashes, hazy and vague. But they're powerful. They're... they're memories of people and places I wasn’t aware of,” I admitted, my voice shaking with the weight of my revelations.

He watched me, patiently waiting as I gathered my thoughts. Encouraged by his silence, I continued, letting the floodgates open, sharing my dreams, my fears, and the memories that had been resurfacing.

As we settled comfortably near the remnants of our fire, Ronan shifted his gaze towards the endless expanse of the sea, his face illuminated by the silvery moonlight. I could sense the weight of his thoughts, the undercurrent of emotions stirring behind his calm demeanor. With a deep sigh, he turned to face me.

"Artemis," he started, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic softness. "There's a lot about our past, about your past, that you should know."

He paused as if gathering his thoughts, then began his narration. His voice flowed like a gentle stream, carrying stories and memories from a time buried deep within.

"Mira, she was always the fearless one, wasn't she?" he chuckled lightly, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. "I still remember her audacity during your fight practices. I loved to watch her when I ran away to visit your pack."

I smiled, and a memory flickered, Mira with her wild hair and fiery eyes, a rebellious smirk on her face. It felt distant, yet so vivid.

"And Syria," he continued, his voice tinged with fondness, "She was the gentle soul, always with her nose buried in one of those old books. But don't let that fool you. She was the best at tracking during the hunts."

A soft laugh escaped me as I pictured Syria, quiet and unassuming yet surprising everyone with her hunting skills. It felt like pieces of a puzzle were coming together.

"Jezebel, she was the spark that kept your sisters together," he added, a warm smile tugging at his lips. "Always joking, always lightening the mood. I remember how she'd tease Petra about her obsession with plants."

His words kindled a memory of Jezebel's infectious laughter and Petra's flustered yet affectionate scowl—a warmth spread through me, thawing the iciness that had taken residence in my heart.

"Even Averi, the fairy who left when she was very young," Ronan's voice grew quieter, more somber. "She cared for her family in her own way. She had her reasons to leave, I suppose."

His words about Averi stirred a complex web of feelings within me—confusion, longing, and an unexpected understanding.

Listening to Ronan, his descriptions, and his recollections, it felt like he was narrating our own fairy tale. Each story he shared, each memory he unearthed, washed over me like waves, stirring up emotions I had long forgotten. It was overwhelming, but I welcomed it. Each word from him, each resurfaced memory, was a step towards understanding my past.

"Thank you, Ronan," I said finally, the gratitude evident in my voice. I was finally beginning to remember, to understand, to feel. Our history was no longer a storm to be feared but a treasure trove of memories to be rediscovered, one story at a time.

Suddenly, the seaside breeze carried an unexpected scent, a familiar and comforting blend of pine and wildflower that I hadn't smelled in a long time. My heart leaped in recognition before my mind could even process it. A lone figure stood by the sea, her fiery hair glowing in the sunlight.

"Mira..." I breathed, disbelief welling up within me.

A sense of calm washed over me as I neared Mira. Her warrior spirit was just as fierce as I remembered, strength radiating from her stance, yet there was a serene quality about her that I hadn't seen before. Contentment that seemed to radiate from her very being. She wasn't alone; a tall man I didn't recognize was by her side. His rugged face softened by kind eyes, his arm protectively wrapped around Mira.

Mira looked at me, myriad emotions swirling in her fiery eyes—shock, confusion, and joy. She approached me, her arms wide open, and for a moment, the years of separation seemed to melt away. We were just sisters again.

"Artemis," she murmured, her voice carrying the same boldness I remembered, now balanced by a softer, gentler undertone.

"Mira," I echoed, the name feeling both foreign and familiar on my tongue. Our embrace was the connection of two souls that had been separated for too long, a silent acknowledgment of our shared past, lost time, and a bond that had never truly been broken.

Pulling back, she studied me with a knowing look in her eyes. "You're having dreams, too, aren't you?" she asked.

I nodded, a surge of relief and trepidation welling up within me. "Yes, dreams, memories... it's all resurfacing."

At last, Mira gestured to the man at her side, his eyes warm with understanding. "This is Bastian," she introduced a soft pride in her voice. "I'm his mate, and he was the alpha of his pack until we left." Bastian nodded at me, acknowledging our shared history even without words.

As the sun began to set, bathing the seaside in hues of orange and red, we gathered around the crackling fire. Ronan's gaze was solemn, his usual playful demeanor replaced by an unnerving deep intensity.

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