A Father's Love

I step out into the morning sunlight, the familiar scent of the farm fills my senses, and a sense of tranquility washes over me. It feels like weeks since I've been here, even though it's only been a few days. Being back home in Rosewood feels like a dream, a surreal experience that I never thought possible.

I make my way towards the barn, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. The farm animals, my old companions, await me with expectant eyes. The chickens cluck and peck at the ground, while the cows low in anticipation of their morning feed.

Grabbing a pail of feed, I start my rounds, visiting each stall and pen. I pour out the grain for the chickens, their feathers shimmering in the morning light as they eagerly gather around the food. The horses neigh softly, nudging each other as I approach, their trust in me unyielding.

Feeding the animals is a ritual that grounds me, connecting me to the simplicity and beauty of rural life. It's as if time slows down in this idyllic setting, and I can fully appreciate the delicate balance of nature.

As I move from one task to another, my mind drifts to the memories that this farm holds. The laughter and hard work shared with my family, the joy of seeing new life enter the world, and the moments of solace found in the quiet corners of the fields. Rosewood has always been my sanctuary, my place of belonging.

With each step, I immerse myself in the rhythmic routine of caring for the animals. Their presence brings a sense of purpose and familiarity that I had longed for during my time away. As I feed them, I can feel their gratitude, their quiet appreciation for my return.

As the last handful of feed scatters across the trough, I take a moment to breathe in the crisp winter air. The sunlight bathes the farm in a warm glow, casting long shadows across the fields. It's in these moments that I realize how fortunate I am to be back in this haven.

A contented sigh escapes my lips as I lean against the fence, soaking in the beauty of Rosewood. It's a reminder that dreams can indeed come true, that the yearning for home and familiarity can be fulfilled. The bustling farm, the peaceful landscape, and the harmonious presence of the animals all reaffirm that I have found my way back to where I truly belong.

At this moment, surrounded by the sights, sounds, and scents of the farm, I vow to cherish every second of my time here. To savor the simple pleasures, to appreciate the hard work that goes into maintaining this place, and to be grateful for the gift of being able to call Rosewood my home once again.

"I thought I'll find you here."

I'd expect it to be the Alpha but it is my dad. I watch as my father approaches the farm, his figure outlined against the backdrop of the rolling fields. He leans against the wooden railing, his eyes searching for mine. I can't help but feel a mix of anger and apprehension bubbling within me. What does he want after all this time?

"What do you want?" I ask him curtly, my voice laced with a hint of bitterness. My gaze remains fixed on him, waiting for an explanation, for something that could possibly justify the pain and betrayal I had endured.

Father watches me for a moment, his expression filled with a mixture of regret and longing. I can see the struggle within him, the weight of the words he is about to utter. Finally, he takes a deep breath, his voice carrying the weight of his sincerity.

"Can we talk?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. The vulnerability in his eyes catches me off guard, momentarily softening my resolve.

"What is there to talk about?" I retort, my tone biting with a lingering bitterness. The hurt still runs deep within me, the wounds too fresh to be easily healed.

Father's gaze lingers on me, his silence speaking volumes. He searches for the right words, the ones that could bridge the chasm that has grown between us. Finally, he speaks, his voice heavy with remorse.

"I just came here to apologize," he admits, his voice tinged with genuine regret. "I don't expect you to accept it, but I came to say that selling you to the Alpha was a mistake. Since leaving the palace, I can't bear to think about leaving you there."

His words hit me like a wave, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. A part of me yearns to believe in his sincerity, to find solace in the fact that he acknowledges his wrongdoing. But another part of me resents his absence, the fact that he left me without a second thought.

"Then why didn't you come back for me?" I demand, my voice betraying the raw pain that lingers within me. The question hangs heavy in the air, the silence between us amplifying its weight.

Father looks away, unable to meet my gaze. "I don't know," he finally admits, his voice barely audible. The honesty in his words only adds to the turmoil brewing inside me.

"You say sorry, but your actions don't reflect it," I say firmly, my voice filled with a mix of disappointment and frustration. The truth of those words hangs in the air, a stark reminder of the fractured bond between us.

We stand there in the stillness of the farm, the silence stretching between us like an unbridgeable gulf. I know that forgiveness cannot be forced, that healing takes time. But in that moment, I am confronted with the painful truth that rebuilding the trust and love we once shared will be an uphill battle.

I take a deep breath and gather my courage as I approach my father, who is still leaning on the railing. The anger and pain within me are palpable, but a part of me longs for some form of connection, even in the midst of the chaos that has unfolded between us.

"You do not know what I had to go through in Wolvendom," I begin, my voice trembling with the weight of my experiences. "I've been humiliated, abused, and deprived of my autonomy."

My father's eyes meet mine, and I can see a flicker of remorse in his gaze. He gestures towards the mark on my neck, a physical reminder of the trauma I endured. "I know," he murmurs softly. "Your sister told me what the Alpha did to you."

A mixture of surprise and bitterness washes over me at the mention of my sister's involvement, but I push those emotions aside for now. The focus is on my father, on his understanding of the pain I've endured.

"And I am sorry," he says, his voice filled with genuine remorse. I look at him, searching his eyes for any hint of sincerity. The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, and for a moment, I am tempted to believe that he truly understands the magnitude of his mistakes.

"At least you know that I won't accept your apologies," I retort firmly, my voice laced with frustration. The scars run deeper than mere words can heal, and forgiveness cannot come easily, if at all.

I tense as my father reaches out and touches my arm, his touch both foreign and familiar. "You are my first-born daughter," he says, his voice filled with emotion. "And I will always love you, no matter how far we may be from each other. You are my pride, and I will always be proud of everything you have done for me and this family. Too bad I was too much of an old-head to see that."

With those words, my father leaves me, the weight of his sentiments lingering in the air. I stand there, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within me. A heavy sadness engulfs me, and tears begin to well up in my eyes. I pick up the bucket and begin feeding the animals, my tears falling silently into the ground.

But then, I feel a warm figure standing next to me. I turn, and it's my father, wrapping his arms around me. His tears mirror my own, and in that moment, we find solace in each other's embrace. We stand there, held together by the shared weight of our pain and the realization of our mistakes.

Time seems to stand still as we hold each other, a tangle of emotions and unspoken words filling the space between us. In this fragile moment, a glimmer of hope emerges, the possibility of a renewed connection and a path towards healing.

We stay like this for a while, tears mingling with the sounds of the animals feeding nearby. It's in this embrace, in the shared vulnerability, that I begin to believe in the possibility of forgiveness, of mending the broken pieces of our relationship. The journey will not be easy, but with time, understanding, and love, we may find our way back to each other, building something stronger and more resilient than before.