The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter Chapter 6: Life with Humans

Natalie~

When I stepped through the shelter doors for the first ti, I felt like an alien landing on an unfamiliar planet. The room was dimly lit, crowded, and slled of sweat and faint mildew. Strangers sat hunched on tal chairs, so talking in low voices, others staring blankly into the distance. My heart hamred in my chest, every instinct screaming at to leave, but I had nowhere else to go.

I crossed my arms around my chest tightly as I walked up to the front desk, where a tired-looking woman barely glanced up. "Need a bed?" she muttered, her voice hoarse.

"Yes, please," I whispered.

She slid a clipboard toward , and I stared at it in confusion. My hands trembled. Nas, phone numbers, addresses—what was I supposed to write? I hadn't used a pen in years, let alone filled out sothing like this.

"Are you alright?" a voice ca from my left.

I turned sharply, my body tensing, but the voice belonged to a boy about my age. He was lean, with tousled brown hair and sharp, curious brown eyes. He looked out of place here, too—his presence felt lighter sohow, like he didn't quite belong in this dark, suffocating space.

"I—I don't know what to write," I admitted softly. My voice sounded so small.

He looked at the form and grinned, though it wasn't mocking. "You don't need to fill all that out, just your first na. They don't really care about the rest."

Relieved, I scrawled Natalie and pushed the clipboard back. The woman grunted in approval and pointed toward the far side of the room, where rows of creaky bunk beds were cramd together.

"Co on," the boy said, motioning for to follow. "I'll show you around."

I hesitated, unsure if I could trust him, but sothing about his smile felt safe. "Thank you," I murmured, falling into step beside him.

"I'm Garrick, by the way," he said. "You looked like you needed a hand."

"Yeah," I admitted. "I do."

That first night, I didn't sleep. I lay curled on the thin mattress, staring at the cracked ceiling as the sounds of coughing, snoring, farting and occasional muttering surrounded . I crossed my arms to my chest, flinching at every creak of the floorboards, every shuffle of feet.

When morning ca, Garrick found sitting outside the shelter, knees hugged to my chest. "Rough night?" he asked, sitting down beside .

I nodded, unable to find words.

"Yeah, it's tough at first. The trick is to keep your head down, don't bother anyone, and get out of here during the day," he said, matter-of-factly.

"Get out?"

He smiled. "I'll show you."

Over the next few days, Garrick taught how to survive in this strange human world. He took to places I never would've found on my own—alleys behind bakeries where kind staff tossed out perfectly good bread, restaurants that quietly handed out leftovers to those who knew when to show up. "Timing is everything," he explained, grinning as he handed half a loaf of still-warm bread.

He taught where to find minimal jobs—washing dishes, sweeping floors, carrying boxes. "It's not glamorous, but it pays for a al or two," he said.

I watched him in awe as he navigated this harsh world with such ease. "How do you know all this?" I finally asked one day as we sat behind a diner, splitting a sandwich the cook had slipped us.

He shrugged. "I've been doing it for years. You learn fast when you have no choice."

"I don't know anything," I admitted quietly.

"You're learning now," Garrick replied. His eyes softened as he looked at . "Where are you from, anyway?"

I stiffened. "A village far away. I... I left a long ti ago."

He nodded like he understood. "You don't have to tell if you don't want to. Everyone here has a story, but no one's judging."

For the first ti in years, I felt safe. I felt lucky to have Garrick.

Garrick beca my anchor. He was kind, resourceful, and, most importantly, he didn't push to share more than I was ready to. Under his guidance, I began to see the human world not as terrifying, but as an opportunity.

"I wish I'd co here sooner," I told him one evening as we sat by the river, watching the sunset reflect on the water. "It's not as bad as I thought it would be."

"See? Told you," Garrick teased. "You fit right in."

I smiled, and it wasn't forced. It felt real. For the first ti in five years, I felt happy. The humans had no concept of wolves. They didn't care if I was broken, wolfless, or an outcast. Here, I was just Natalie.

I began to dream again. Not of getting my wolf—those days were long gone—but of a new life. Maybe I could get an education, a job, and one day, my own apartnt. I imagined waking up in a small, cozy place of my own, with no one to answer to. Just peace.

One evening, Garrick wasn't feeling well. He looked pale, leaning against the bunk bed as I walked over.

"Are you okay?" I asked, worried.

"Yeah, just a headache," he mumbled, waving off. "I'll be fine by tomorrow."

"Stay here and rest," I said firmly. "I'll get food for both of us tonight."

Garrick hesitated. "Are you sure? You know what to do?"

"I've watched you enough tis," I said with a small smile. "I can handle it."

He sighed. "Alright. Be careful, Nat."

*********

Mr. Martin, the kind chef at a little diner, had told to co by at 7 p.m. "I'll have sothing for you," he'd said with a wink.

When I arrived, he was waiting at the back door with a bag of warm food. "Here you go, kid," he said, handing it over. "Should be enough for you and your friend."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Martin," I said, my voice full of gratitude.

"Take care of yourself, alright?"

"I will."

On my way back to the shelter, I took a shortcut through a quiet alley, my mind focused on the food I was carrying. That's when I saw it—a small, limping shape darting into the shadows.

I froze, my heart racing. A wolf pup.

A second later, heavy footsteps echoed behind . I ducked instinctively behind a huge trash can as three n entered the alley. They looked rough—scarred faces, dark clothes, and an air of nace that made my skin crawl.

"Where'd it go?" one man growled.

"It was limping; it couldn't have gotten far," another replied angrily. "You're the idiot who let it escape!"

"I didn't see it slip out!"

"Quiet!" The third man snapped. "We'll find it. Split up."

I held my breath as they searched the area, their boots crunching against gravel. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they cursed under their breath and walked away, their voices fading into the distance.

I erged from my hiding spot and crept into the alley. The pup was curled up in a corner, its small body trembling.

"Hey," I whispered gently, crouching down.

The pup's ears flattened, and it let out a weak growl.

"It's okay," I said softly. "I'm not going to hurt you. I promise."

The pup watched warily, its golden eyes filled with fear. My chest ached. "Those n aren't going to find you. I won't let them."

I inched closer, speaking in a low, soothing voice. "You're safe with , little one."

Surprisingly, the pup didn't growl again. It whimpered softly, as if weighing my words. Slowly, I reached out and touched its fur. It was matted and dirty, and I could feel the tremble in its small fra.

"You're okay now," I murmured, carefully scooping it into my arms. The pup didn't resist; it was too weak to fight.

Clutching the pup close to my chest, I ran. My feet pounded against the pavent as I rushed back to the shelter, my heart racing.

I won't let them hurt you. I promise.