Chapter 13
The chaos of Belmor Town feels like a distant storm now that I'm in Westron Town. The day after I arrived, Daniel whisked me to the rink. I'd made a name for myself as a pup, blessed with raw talent. Even during those years tied to Derek's side, I never slacked on my brutal training regimen. Figure skating? It's my lifeblood.
But showing up as a last-minute addition to the pack-wide team didn't exactly win me friends. The other she-wolves eyed me with envy, so I ditched the dorms and bought my own apartment. Derek's cruel habit of throwing money in my face to humiliate me, plus the hefty inheritance Mom left, added up to a cool hundred million—plenty to set me up here.
Desperate to earn a spot in the competition, I poured everything into training for three months straight, barely eating or sleeping. At the team tryouts six months later, I glided to a haunting melody, nailing a performance that left everyone floored. I secured my place and dove into grueling, round-the-clock training—six a.m. to ten p.m., plus two extra hours daily. Holidays? Spent on the ice, no breaks.
Teammates tried to talk me down. "Hannah, you don't have to go this hard. You're killing yourself."
I'd just smile. "The road to victory's never smooth."
Skating brought injuries, anxiety, breakdowns—sometimes I wanted to quit. But Mom's voice echoed: "Hannah, be strong." I'd grit my teeth and keep going.
A year later, I competed for the great pack's team, clinched the championship, and retired on top. That night, the team threw a victory bash. For once, I ditched my uniform, hitting the mall for some classy dresses—my first shopping trip since arriving in Westron Town.
The party wasn't just for skaters; athletes from other sports and even sponsors showed up. But I stole the show in a flowing purple gown, my hair swept up with a simple pin, catching every eye in the room. Embarrassed, I slipped to a corner table. Still, dance invites poured in. I brushed them off, claiming my old waist injury, keeping everyone at arm's length.
Halfway through, I escaped to the rooftop. A soft breeze teased my hair, the stars dazzling above. A legend crossed my mind: they say the dead become stars, watching over those they loved. Mom, are you sharing my triumph right now? I gazed at the sky, tears welling.
A suit jacket draped over my shoulders. Startled, I turned, meeting eyes that sparkled like the stars. The wolf smiled, voice warm as honey. "Miss, haven't we met before?"
I almost laughed—what, that old pickup line?—but he looked so familiar. For a second, I wanted to ask, "Sir, haven't we met?" As I stared, he grabbed my hand, writing his name in my palm.
"Hannah, I'm Evan Lucian."
His face clicked, overlapping with memories of my childhood neighbor. Joy chased away my gloom. "Evan… that Evan?"
His eyes crinkled, brimming with warmth and a hint of mock resentment. "Took you long enough to remember me."
I ducked my head, sheepish. Then he asked, "Wanna grab some late-night grub?"
Like I was under a spell, I nodded. Fifteen minutes later, we were at a street food stall. "You remember I love this stuff?" I asked, surprised.
"Yup." Evan grinned. "I remember everything you love."
He was clearly a regular. The owner bounded over. "Same as last time, kid?"
Evan nodded, and the owner swiped the menu away. I raised an eyebrow. The Evan I knew was thoughtful, always checking my preferences. Had he forgotten to ask about allergies or dislikes?
But when the food arrived, I felt silly. Every dish was a childhood favorite. "I remember everything you love," he'd said. Warmth spread through me.
Evan noticed my pause. "What's wrong? Not your taste anymore?"
Guilt flashed across his face. "My bad—I was thinking of what you used to like, didn't ask what you want now." He called the owner back, handing me the menu.
My throat tightened, but I took it, ordering a few dishes—ones he used to love. With a playful smirk, I said, "Fair's fair. I ordered your old favorites without asking either."
Evan chuckled low. "Hannah, my tastes haven't changed. What I liked then, I still like now."
