Sunny Pov.

His expression reflected concern rather than controlling intent as he asked worriedly, "Where are you going?"

The unexpected question caught me off-guard. I had assumed he would be focused on the upcoming meeting rather than my temporary absence.

His sudden attentiveness triggered an odd combination of warmth at his concern and anxiety about explaining my need for solitude without causing offense.

"Does he suspect something's wrong?" I wondered briefly before composing a reassuring response.

I smiled automatically. The expression was so practiced it emerged without conscious thought.

Even so, I was sure he wasn't able to see my facial expressions with his supposed blindness. This provided strange comfort in that moment.

"I'm going to the garden. I need to walk," I explained casually. I kept my tone light despite the heaviness in my chest.

The half-truth felt necessary. Yes, I wanted to walk in the garden. But more importantly, I needed space to breathe without performing happiness for everyone around me.

"Just for a little while," I added reassuringly. "Nothing to worry about."

The garden had become my refuge since arriving at Kwan's territory. The vibrant flowers and ancient trees provided peaceful sanctuary when the castle's walls seemed too confining.

He nodded slowly. Though his expression suggested lingering concern despite my casual explanation.

"Okay, but stay close, don't go far," he cautioned. His protective instinct was evident despite his supposed inability to locate me visually.

The restriction, though reasonable given recent threats, chafed against my sudden desperate need for freedom.

"The territory borders aren't far from the main gardens," he added with surprising geographic awareness for someone believed blind. "Just stay within shouting distance of the castle, alright?"

His continued hold on my wrist betrayed reluctance to release me. As though sensing my emotional turmoil despite my efforts to conceal it.

I laughed with deliberate brightness. The sound was convincingly carefree despite the storm of emotions beneath the surface.

My facial expression betrayed my true feelings. Deep sorrow and lingering trauma that I carefully kept from my voice.

"Sure, I won't go far. Just need some fresh air," I promised with forced cheerfulness. I silently added, "and space to fall apart without worrying you."

I was glad that he wasn't able to see my face at such a moment. The contradiction between my lighthearted tone and pain-filled expression would have immediately revealed my deception.

The small mercy of his blindness allowed me this momentary dishonesty without discovery. This brief opportunity to protect him from concerns about my wellbeing when he already carried so many burdens.

And I marched away hurriedly once he released me. I increased my pace with each step until I reached the gardens.

Without conscious thought, I took off my shoes and threw them aside. I needed to feel earth beneath my feet after so long confined within walls.

I started running. Not knowing where I was headed but driven by overwhelming need to move. To escape. To outrun memories that pursued me relentlessly.

"Just keep going," I urged myself. I ignored the rational voice warning about territory boundaries and potential dangers.

The physical exertion provided temporary relief from emotional pressure. Each footfall released a fraction of tension that had built within me.

"Faster," I gasped. I pushed beyond normal human speed as my werewolf heritage responded to emotional distress with physical capability.

The wind in my hair and against my face created illusion of freedom I hadn't experienced in years.

I didn't go anywhere during my years at that horrible school. We were literally prisoners. Allowed outside only for strictly supervised exercise periods that felt more like military drills than recreation.

Only my mom and my dad came once a year and visited me there. Their brief visits were carefully monitored to prevent me from revealing the true nature of my "education."

The restricted communication had been deliberate strategy by the school administration. Ensuring my suffering remained hidden from those who might have intervened earlier.

"She's adjusting well," the headmistress would assure my parents with practiced smile. "Her academic performance is excellent. Though her social integration remains challenging."

The carefully crafted half-truths had prevented my parents from recognizing my desperate situation. Their limited visits provided insufficient opportunity to see beyond the performance the school demanded during family days.

And when Alpha Isabella saved my life after discovering the truth, she asked my parents to let me live with them permanently.

I had begged for this arrangement. I was desperate to remain close to Juan even in his unconscious state.

"Please," I had pleaded with my father. "I need to be near him. I can't go back to our territory knowing he's here."

My desperation must have been evident. They agreed despite obvious reluctance to have me living in another Alpha's household.

I didn't want to lose one more moment without him. Not after years of separation and suffering sustained by hope of eventual reunion.

Since arriving at Kwan's castle, I refused to go back to my own pack despite occasional invitations. I refused to hang out with peers my age. I found their ordinary concerns impossibly trivial after my experiences.

I didn't know my surroundings beyond the castle grounds. I had deliberately limited my movements to spaces where Juan might need me when he eventually awakened.

And darkness scared me after years of punishment involving isolation in lightless cells.

They used to leave me in a pitch-black cell, alone for a couple of days when I defied their rules or mentioned Juan's name.

The isolation killed something inside me that I was still struggling to recover.

"You'll learn to forget him in the darkness," they would say before locking the heavy door. "Eventually you'll associate his memory with this punishment."

I was just so young when this conditioning began. Too inexperienced to resist their psychological manipulation effectively.

I didn't know why they did it with such determination. I thought they simply hated werewolves generally. That my suffering was merely extension of ancient species hatred.

But in the end, I realized that most of the vampires wanted me specifically and craved my presence for reasons beyond ordinary cruelty.

Even so, my blood was like poison to them when they occasionally attempted to feed. Causing violent reactions that puzzled even the oldest vampires among them.

It was weird! I didn't get it. I couldn't understand why they maintained such focused interest despite the apparent incompatibility of my blood with their physiology.

And I guess Alpha Isabella too didn't understand what they truly aimed for and intended to do with me.

Her raid on the school had been primarily rescue mission rather than investigation. Prioritizing my immediate safety over gathering comprehensive intelligence about the vampires' motivations.

"Something about you frightened them even while attracting them," she had observed during my recovery. "That combination made them particularly dangerous. Fear and desire create unpredictable responses even in ordinary circumstances."

Thankfully, she killed them all without hesitation when she discovered what was happening.

The decisive action had probably saved not just my life but my sanity. Intervening before the final breaking of my spirit they had planned so methodically.

And my parents felt guilty for putting me at risk for years without realizing the danger. Their distress was evident whenever the school was mentioned.

"We should have known," my father had repeated during his first visit after my rescue. His powerful frame seemed diminished by the weight of his perceived failure. "There were signs we missed. Questions we should have asked."

His self-recrimination had prompted my immediate forgiveness. I was unable to bear adding his suffering to my own burdens.

But I didn't blame anyone. Not my parents for their unintentional neglect. Not Alpha Isabella for not discovering the truth sooner. Not Juan for his original request that I be sent away.

I knew it was fate. My destiny to pass through that particular fire for reasons perhaps not yet revealed.

"Everything happens for a purpose," my grandmother had taught me long ago. "Sometimes we don't understand the reason until years later. When we see how our suffering prepared us for something important."

Though I couldn't imagine what purpose such systematic abuse might serve, I clung to the possibility that meaning existed beyond the cruelty I had endured.

"There must be a reason," I whispered to myself during darkest moments. "Otherwise it's just senseless pain, and I can't accept that."

I came back to my senses abruptly. I suddenly realized I had run much farther than intended in my emotional distraction.

I wasn't able to spot the castle in any direction. The unfamiliar forest surrounded me completely.

I sighed with growing anxiety. "Dammit, I need to find my way back now."

The realization that I had broken my promise to Juan added guilt to my mounting concern about being lost in unfamiliar territory.

"He's going to worry when I don't return," I thought with increasing panic. "And I have no idea which direction leads back to safety."

The disorientation created immediate vulnerability that triggered memories of helplessness I'd fought so hard to overcome.

I wasn't trained to use my senses as a she-wolf. I had missed the critical adolescent years when most werewolves developed their natural abilities under careful guidance.

I didn't get mated, so I was still not able to shift into wolf form. My powers remained dormant despite my age.

My wolf remained hidden within me. Accessible only through occasional emotional surges rather than controlled transformation.

My lack of proper werewolf training now left me vulnerable in ways that wouldn't affect others my age. Unable to track by scent or navigate by instinct as full-shifted wolves could easily manage.

But I was sure that I heard footsteps from behind. The subtle sounds triggered immediate fight-or-flight response conditioned by years of abuse.

"Someone's following me," I realized with growing terror. Memories of being hunted by vampires for "training exercises" flooded back with paralyzing intensity.

I gulped nervously and tried to move faster. I attempted to retrace my path while my heart thundered painfully in my chest.

But the sound of wind rising suddenly, followed by storm clouds gathering with unnatural speed and heavy rain beginning to fall, made me shiver with increasing fear.

The combination of natural threat and potential pursuit created overwhelming panic that escaped as involuntary scream.

I looked around desperately. I saw only high trees surrounding me in every direction. Offering no clear indication of which way might lead to safety.

The memories of being caught and beaten by vampires during similar "wilderness training" exercises overwhelmed rational thought. Creating paralyzing terror that rooted me in place despite urgent need to flee.

I started crying helplessly. I whimpered words that emerged without conscious decision: "Please help me, Juan. Please."

I had no idea why I called for him specifically. He was presumably still blind. Physically weakened from years of inactivity. And completely unaware of my location.

Even if he somehow knew I needed help, his condition would prevent effective rescue.

Most significantly, I believed that Juan and I could not mind-link as traditional mates once had. Since that supernatural connection had disappeared from our kind years before my birth.

Simply put, no one should be able to hear my voice or desperate pleading across such distance.

"He can't hear you," I scolded myself through tears. "You need to help yourself this time."