❝And for her, he burned.❞ When his mate leaves him behind at the palace, Lester finds himself working to the brink of deterioration. Everything reminds him of Dahlia, the shewolf he's in love with. Overwhelmed, Lester moves out to a small town where...
❝She had never been one to believe in the divine, but this light had to be the work of a Goddess.❞
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A few months later
"Yes – yes, do you mind repeating that number one more time so I can make sure it's correct?" Dahlia tipped the phone against her ear as she went over the number she had written, nodding to herself. "That's perfect. We'll be expecting you later today. Buh-bye." She hung up the phone with a soft sigh, running a hand over her forehead as she turned towards the computer monitor in front of her. Gentle clicks could be heard as she entered the information into the system. She saved everything carefully before closing it out.
For the past couple months now Dahlia had begun volunteering at a local women's shelter. As a border town, Roaner attracted a lot of refugees with similar backgrounds to her, and when she'd found out about Leonora's she had been transfixed. Working at a women's shelter for an extended period of time had proven to be worthwhile to her. It healed a part of her soul to know that even if she didn't know where she stood within her own womanhood, she could help others in much more harrowing situations than her own. Among answering calls, Dahlia also taught a self-defense class twice a week for free and helped those who could work find safe jobs. It was all part of the shelter's program.
Another volunteer at the shelter, Mera, walked past and they exchanged waves. Working at the shelter had also helped improve her socializing skills – a life skill Dahlia had never quite felt she understood.
Dahlia checked her watch in her spare moments, gathering her things to shove into her large thrifted tote bag. It was almost time. She pushed her chair in and popped her head in to see Leonora Willis, the owner of the shelter. "I'm checking out. Just here to let you know that no one's currently manning the desk up front."
Nora didn't even glance up to fully acknowledge her presence as she punched numbers into a calculator. "I got it." Her boss was incredibly smart with numbers, but also had a big heart beneath her business exterior. She was both a woman that knew how to get her work done and a woman who was selfless beyond belief. Dahlia looked up to her a great deal and had found a mentor in her over time. They had grown close recently, a relationship she was more grateful for than she could successfully put into words.
Leonora had managed to keep her real identity under wraps at the shelter between non-disclosure agreements and a faked personal profile for the shelter. Since most coming in for help were too busy with their own problems, it hadn't become a massive issue.
Dahlia nodded. She was halfway out the door when Nora's voice stopped her. "Dahl?" She turned to look back.
Nora put her pen down and propped her glasses in between the brown curls atop her head. "Let me know how it goes for you. Stop by later." She waved the end of her pen in Dahlia's direction. "I'm serious."
"I got it," Dahlia mimicked, a smile playing onto her lips. She closed the door gently behind her and continued down the hall. It wasn't a long walk.
When she reached the door at the end, she knocked three times, waiting patiently. It was but a moment before a voice called out, "Come in," and she pushed it open to reveal the bright room she was used to accompanied by the soft sound of a piano.
"You're as punctual as ever, Dahlia," the woman playing remarked, pushing back the piano bench and making her way over to the seating area. Gesturing for her to sit down, she took the kettle full of tea and poured the both of them cups of jasmine tea.
Dahlia closed the door and sat as she did so, setting down her things and sinking into the couch. Every time she entered the office, she was always taken aback by the brilliant natural light that hit each crevice of the room. When the sun was out, the sheer white curtains floated in the wind and the whole room practically teemed with warmth. This office had seen everything, she was sure. It was a comforting thought.
"How was your past week?"
The question stole Dahlia from her thought train, and she turned to face the poser of the question.
Ms. Faith Amest was the shelter's counselor, with deep brown skin and a voice that could carry for miles even without piano accompaniment. Her tone was always pretty even when dealing with the shittiest situations. Dahlia had been coming to her for therapy sessions since she'd begun work at the shelter. Ms. Amest had helped her work through a couple things, including her post-traumatic stress disorder diagnosis that she had struggled with. She'd since begun several different treatments for PTSD separately, but she'd never once stopped come to Ms. Amest's sessions.
"It wasn't bad," Dahlia mused. Her hand hovered against the side of her teacup. As she recounted the details to her counselor, her mind drifted.
Sessions with Ms. Amest normally resulted in the two of them drawing a new conclusion about the way Dahlia perceived the world – where her deductions stemmed from, why her thoughts linked back to previous life events, her relationships and her understanding of herself. The psychology behind everything fascinated and reassured Dahlia. There were a lot of half-truths among the objective facts, she'd started to realize over time. Therapy was a long, slow process that she struggled with more often than not, but her emotional progress felt more satisfactory even without tangibility.
"I'm relieved to hear that," Ms. Amest said, taking a sip of her beverage. "You deserve a few good days and some peace, darling."
Dahlia couldn't help but let out a small laugh at that. It was progress.
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It's a bit strange to think about how far Dahlia's come since the first chapter of Wild Heart (TBF). I was writing out both hers and Lester's individual character arcs the other day, and it's fascinating to see the way they each have formed a voice of their own. Simultaneously, the way their nuances reflect my own. I'm proud of Dahlia and how far we've come.
On another note, thank you so much for 1K on LHF! I really appreciate it. Even as an experienced author who's been around long enough to have an audience, sometimes I'm not sure if my work will do well and it always means so much to me when I even hit the smaller milestones. Thank you to everyone who's read, commented, voted, or shown your support for my work in any way.
