I Left Before He Learned My Worth novel Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

**ARIA**

I didn’t pause for permission, nor did I heed any orders or protocols. All that mattered was my urgent need to uncover the truth of what had transpired. With a fierce determination, I pushed past the guards, their shock rendering them powerless to stop me. I flung open the door to Kael’s den, my heart racing with anticipation.

What I encountered within that room would be etched into my memory for all eternity.

There stood Kael—*standing*—in the very heart of the space. Yet, he was no longer the magnificent wolf I had known. He was human. Naked and swaying unsteadily on his feet, it was as though he had forgotten the very mechanics of bipedal movement. And yet, undeniably, he was human.

A wave of realization washed over me, striking me like a bolt of lightning. He was tall—taller than Damon, in fact—with broad shoulders and a muscular physique that radiated strength, even in this unfamiliar form. His hair, dark and longer than what would typically be considered fashionable, cascaded in wild waves past his shoulders, as if nature itself had styled him rather than any human hand. And his eyes—those mesmerizing golden eyes, so familiar from his wolf form—shone with an intensity that was equally captivating in this human guise.

He was breathtakingly beautiful.

But he was also faltering.

Suddenly, his legs buckled beneath him, the transition from four legs to two clearly overwhelming for muscles that had not supported human form in three long years. But just then, Ivory was there, her arms wrapping around his waist with surprising strength, catching him before he could collapse to the ground.

“Easy now,” she murmured, her voice a soothing balm, filled with warmth and pride. “You did it, Kael. You really did it.”

“We did it,” he corrected her, his voice rough and uncertain, betraying the fact that he was still adjusting to speaking with a human throat. “You were the one who knew what you were doing, Ivory. This—none of this would have been possible without you.”

“You’re the one who had the courage to try,” Ivory replied, her arms still firmly supporting him as he struggled to regain his footing. “You risked everything for a chance to break the curse. That took real bravery, Kael.”

I stood frozen in the doorway, a silent observer of this deeply intimate moment unfolding before me. I noticed Nina in the background, tears streaming down her cheeks as she gazed at her Alpha in human form for the first time in years. Eliza and the other healers were present too, their faces a blend of wonder and relief.

And I—I felt like an intruder, an outsider witnessing a sacred moment that seemed to belong to a world I was no longer a part of.

Kael’s gaze found mine across the room, and in that instant, something flickered in his eyes. Recognition. Warmth. But there was also uncertainty, as if he was unsure how I would react to seeing him like this.

He attempted to take a step toward me but nearly stumbled again. Ivory tightened her grip on him, moving quickly to wrap a sheet around his waist, providing him with a semblance of modesty while still bearing the majority of his weight.

“Aria,” he said, and hearing my name spill from his lips in his actual voice sent a shockwave through my chest. “I—this is—”

“Incredible,” I managed to respond, though my voice sounded foreign to my own ears. “You’re human again. The curse—”

“May be broken,” Ivory interjected smoothly, carefully draping the cloth around him. “Or it could just be temporarily suppressed. We won’t know for certain for a few hours whether this transformation is permanent or if he’ll revert to his wolf form.”

Her tone was matter-of-fact, but I couldn’t help but notice the possessive way her arms remained around him, the way she positioned herself between us, asserting her role as his primary support.

“You felt the pain,” Kael said, realization dawning on his face. “Through the bond. Moon Goddess, Aria, I tried to mute the connection so you wouldn’t have to endure it. I never thought it would break through—”

“It did,” I stated simply, my voice steady. “I felt everything.”

Guilt flashed across his features, darkening his golden eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have informed you about our plans. Should have explained the treatment. But I didn’t want you to worry. I thought—if I could just manage it, if Ivory could break the curse before the ceremony—”

He remained clinging to the examination table for support, the sheet wrapped around his waist, his legs trembling with the effort to stay upright. Without Ivory’s steadying presence, he appeared even more vulnerable, uncertainty etched into his features.

I crossed the room slowly, careful not to startle him with sudden movements. Up close, I could see the fine tremors coursing through his muscles, the exhaustion painted across every line of his face. The transformation had exacted a heavy toll.

“You should sit,” I suggested quietly, gesturing toward the chair beside the examination table.

“I should,” he agreed, but he didn’t move. “But after being on four legs for three years, standing on two feels—like I’m flying. Like I’m defying gravity just by being upright.”

His voice was raw and unpracticed, yet it brimmed with wonder. Joy intermingled with exhaustion and pain. Despite everything—the secrecy, the exclusion, and the way Ivory had orchestrated the entire event—I couldn’t help but feel a surge of happiness for him.

“How do you feel?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.

“Like I’ve been turned inside out and put back together wrong,” he admitted, a weak smile breaking through the fatigue. “But also—free. For the first time in three years, I feel free.”

He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering near my face, as if unsure whether he had the right to touch me now that he was human. I closed the distance, leaning into his palm when it finally made contact with my cheek.

His hands were warm, roughened by calluses that had somehow survived the transformation. They trembled slightly against my skin, whether from exhaustion or emotion, I couldn’t quite tell.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “For not telling you. For shutting you out of the bond. I just—I was terrified it wouldn’t work. Terrified that you’d feel obligated to talk me out of it or that you’d blame yourself if something went wrong. I thought it would be easier to just present you with the results rather than make you worry through the process.”

“I worried anyway,” I pointed out, my voice firm yet laced with understanding. “And I felt the pain when the bond broke through your shielding. All you accomplished was making me feel excluded.”