The Crippled Wife They Tried to Erase - Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Starting over. That's what I told myself every morning as I settled into this quiet little town, far from the noise and chaos of my old life. The second I arrived, I knew—I was never going back. This was my fresh start, my story to write alone.
I landed a job at a cozy library tucked between rows of cottages, the kind of place where time moved slower. Perfect for someone like me—peaceful, undisturbed, no judging eyes or whispered rumors. Just what I needed to heal, to rebuild.
I lost myself in the books, burying my thoughts in stories that let me forget. Hours slipped by as I shelved, organized, and read, the scent of old paper and dust wrapping around me like a comfort.
Sometimes, I'd chat with the regulars—small talk about the weather, their latest reads, or the town gossip. But mostly, I preferred the quiet.
Then, one afternoon, everything shifted.
I was walking home when I spotted a group of kids playing near the park, their laughter ringing through the air as they chased each other. I paused, watching from a distance. Their carefree joy hit me like a punch to the chest—a feeling I hadn't known in years.
Then, in a heartbeat, one of the little girls stumbled, crashing to the pavement with a sharp cry. She couldn't have been more than five, and the way she hit the ground made me flinch. She tried to scramble up, but her knees were raw, blood soaking through her tights.
Instinct took over. I rushed to her, dropping to my knees. The other kids hovered nervously, but it was her sobs that shattered me.
"Shh, it's okay," I murmured, brushing my hands over her scrapes. A soft glow pulsed under my fingers—bruises faded, cuts sealed. In seconds, she was fine.
She blinked up at me, tears still wet on her cheeks but now mixed with wonder. "Thank you!" she whispered, eyes wide.
I ruffled her hair. "Just be careful next time, okay?"
But as I stood, I felt eyes on me. Across the street, a man watched—tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair and piercing green eyes. Something about him crackled in the air, like he carried a quiet storm inside him.
The little girl beamed and waved. "Daddy!"
He scooped her up, his voice deep and warm. "You alright, sweetheart?"
I stayed frozen, an odd tightness in my chest as I watched them. There was something there—something I couldn't name.
Then his gaze locked onto mine again, and for a heartbeat, the world stilled. He smiled slightly and stepped closer, his daughter in his arms.
"I didn't catch your name," he said, voice smooth as honey. "I'm Zephyr."
"Lyra," I answered, my pulse unsteady.
His eyes never left mine. "I saw what you did for my daughter. I'm grateful."
"It was nothing," I said, but the way he looked at me—like he knew—sent a shiver down my spine.
"You're not from here," he murmured. "There's something about you. Something… different."
I stiffened. How?
He tilted his head, studying me. "I'm not here to cause trouble. But I think you belong with us. You're strong, Lyra. My pack could use someone like you."
Pack?
"We've been without a Luna since my daughter's mother passed," he continued. "I need a leader. Someone like you."
The offer hung between us, and for the first time in forever, something inside me stirred. Belonging. Purpose. But fear coiled tight in my gut.
Could I really step back into that world?
Zephyr didn't push. Just gave me a slow smile. "Think about it. The offer stands."
Then he turned, his daughter nestled against him, and as they walked away, I wondered—was this another beginning?