While Nathan and Maddison were locked in their own quiet war, tearing at each other in ways neither would openly admit, Ashley’s life in the Gildenvale estate began to settle into a steady and peaceful rhythm.
Day by day, her brothers grew closer to her, their presence no longer distant or unfamiliar, but warm and grounding in a way she hadn’t expected.
Ophelia, on the other hand, made no effort to hide her displeasure anymore. Though she didn’t confront Ashley directly, her irritation surfaced in sharper ways, like the subtle barbs in her words, dismissive glances, and the occasional eye roll she didn’t bother to conceal.
Yet to Ashley, those actions barely registered as wounds. If anything, they felt childish, too trivial to truly matter.
The others seed to share that sentint. The brothers didn’t interfere, nor did they make a spectacle out of it. They understood that Ophelia hadn’t accepted Ashley yet, and perhaps wouldn’t for so ti.
But that didn’t change where they stood. Their actions made it clear enough that Ashley was their sister, and their loyalty, their understanding, and their care were firmly with her.
Whatever silent resistance Ophelia held onto, it was hers alone to carry... and if anything, it was more likely to hurt herself than anyone else.
With those small changes, Ashley’s days grew easier, her recovery unfolding in a way that almost felt too smooth to question, until one morning, a week after her arrival at the palace, when Aunt Lavinia helped her change her bandages.
"Oh...? Your wounds healed... remarkably well."
There was sothing subtle in Aunt Lavinia’s tone, just enough to catch Ashley’s attention.
Ashley stared down at her arm, her breath hitching in quiet disbelief. The deep, gaping wound that had once bled so heavily was... gone. Not faded, not scarred, just gone, as if it had never existed at all.
Smooth, unbroken skin greeted her eyes, flawless to the point of being unsettling.
And yet, Aunt Lavinia looked at it as though it were nothing out of the ordinary.
Confusion crept into Ashley’s thoughts. From everything she knew about humans, a wound like that should have taken at least a month or two to close properly, and even then, it would have left a scar behind.
But this? This was sothing else entirely.
Her mind jumped to her other injuries. Her shoulder, her legs, her broken ribs, and bones that should have taken months to nd had already recovered. It had only been... what, a week?
Seven days.
The realization settled uneasily in her chest, quiet but undeniable, as the question ford...
’What exactly was happening to my body?’
For werewolves, this level of recovery wouldn’t have been worth a second glance. Those who had awakened their wolves could heal even catastrophic wounds like flesh torn open, or organs fully exposed, in re monts, the body knitting itself back together with terrifying speed.
Compared to that, Ashley’s injuries were minor, sothing that would have taken them only minutes to hours to recover from, depending on the strength of their wolves.
But she wasn’t supposed to be like them.
Healing this quickly, fully, and flawlessly, in less than two weeks... for a human, it was unheard of.
The thought unsettled her.
Was she really human? Or perhaps the better question was, was her lineage truly human at all? If not... then what was she? And what about the people around her? Did her brothers know? Did Aunt Lavinia?
If they didn’t, then why didn’t Aunt Lavinia look even a little surprised?
Ashley stole a quiet glance at the older woman, her thoughts spiraling, questions stacking one after another with no answers in sight.
She didn’t even know how to begin putting those thoughts into words, and the more she tried, the more tangled they beca, leaving her restless and confused. If this had happened before, she might not have questioned it at all, back when she believed she was just like everyone else, a werewolf whose body healed as naturally as breathing.
But now that she knew she wasn’t... the sa thing felt wrong. Unnatural. As if her own body had beco sothing unfamiliar to herself, sothing she no longer understood.
And that was what frightened her most.
Not knowing what she truly was.
The question sat heavy in her chest, rising to her throat but refusing to pass her lips, as though so invisible force held it back. She couldn’t ask, not yet.
Instead, a quieter resolve began to take shape. She would observe. She would dig deeper into her family’s lineage, watch her brothers more closely, see if they too carried the sa strange anomalies, and simply accepted them as normal.
Because if they did...
Then maybe this wasn’t new to them at all.
Maybe that was why, instead of transferring her to a hospital in this city, they had brought her back to the palace. Because Aunt Lavinia already knew. Because she understood sothing Ashley didn’t, and perhaps feared that if outsiders, especially dical professionals, discovered the truth, it would unravel everything.
Ashley flexed her fingers, opening and closing her hand slowly as she tested the strength in them, expecting stiffness or lingering weakness. Instead, what she felt made her pause; there was no stiffness in her movent, no trace of strain.
It was as if her body had returned to its peak condition, completely unburdened by the injuries she had suffered.
It stunned her.
This was the first ti she had ever been hurt this badly. Back in the Black Mountain Pack, she had always been protected, cherished as the apple of everyone’s eye. Even during sparring, her natural talent and strength ensured she rarely took real damage, at most, a few scratches or light bruises that healed before they could even be considered injuries.
That day... had been different.
What started as a simple fall, a scraped knee, had turned into sothing far worse after the shock of discovering Maddison and Nathan’s affair.
The wound had torn open, worsened by everything that followed, until it beca sothing serious, sothing she had never experienced before. And then ca the rest: the chaos, the pain, the overwhelming shock and fall from the cliff that pushed her into a coma for three days before she woke up and was brought here, in her family’s ho.
She had expected a long recovery. Months, at the very least.
But this... this was sothing else entirely.
Ten days.
Including the days she had spent unconscious.
And yet here she was, moving freely, without pain, without limitation, as if nothing had ever happened.
Her body... was anything but ordinary.
Aunt Lavinia gave her a gentle pat on the head before gathering the gauze and dicine, neatly putting everything away. There was no longer any need for bandages; Ashley’s wounds had healed completely, leaving nothing to tend to.
"Well then," she said with a warm smile, "you don’t have to settle for wiping yourself down anymore. You can finally take a proper bath after this."
There was a knowing softness in her voice. She had long noticed the way Ashley lingered whenever baths were ntioned, the quiet yearning she tried not to show.
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