My Ex Left Me Years Ago Then I’m Married to a Billionaire novel Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Skye’s POV

My phone’s navigation guided me steadily south.

As the landscape transformed from Alaska’s snowy wilderness to warmer climes, my heartache and depression gradually faded, diluted by the parade of new experiences.

This was, in all honesty, my first solo journey.

Despite werewolves‘ natural strength, our numbers are minuscule compared to humans, and in Frostshadow Pack, wolves who hadn’t shifted were never allowed to travel alone.

The red contpact car Dad had given me for my birthday became my only companion. Each mile that stretched between me and the pack felt both terrifying and liberating. Sometimes I would pull over just to scream or cry, releasing emotions that threatened to consume me from within.

Other times, I’d drive in silence for hours, watching the world change through my windshield.

I encountered birds I’d never seen before, inhaled the scent of unknown flowers, and met countless ordinary humans with their own fascinating stories.

The southern girls especially intrigued me, with their fashion choices I couldn’t begin to comprehend–crop tops in weather I’d consider freezing, footwear that seemed designed for looks rather than function.

“Where did you get your hair done?” a girl at a gas station in Montana asked, her eyes wide with admiration. “It’s like, so anime! The silver is perfect.”

When I explained it was my natural color, her jaw dropped. “No way! That’s insane, My stylist would kill to know how to get that shade.”

I hadn’t anticipated this. What had marked me as different in the pack–my unusual silver hair–was apparently enviable in the human world.

“You should totally model,” another girl told me at a diner in Colorado. “Shampoo Co

would pay thousands for hair like that.”

The attention was flattering but dangerous. I couldn’t risk being remembered or, worse, photographed.

What if Leon or Ethan came across my image while searching?

So in a motel bathroom in Utah, I dyed my distinctive silver locks a golden blonde–not unlike Leon’s shade, though I tried not to dwell on that painful

coincidence.

The journey wasn’t always filled with fascination and discovery. Supporting myself as a human girl proved far more challenging than I’d anticipated.

I’d left the pack with only a thousand dollars, and money vanished quickly.

Before finding steady work, I slept in my car most nights, parked in well–lit areas of Walmart parking lots or rest stops.

I learned to arrange my backpack and jacket into a makeshift pillow, to brush my teeth using bottled water, and to change clothes in the cramped backseat without exposing myself to potential onlookers.

“You’re not scared of anything, are you, Miss Skye?” he asked, wide–eyed with admiration.

I thought of the grizzly bear, of Leon’s rejection, of nights spent alone in my car.

“Everyone’s scared of something, I told him gently. “The trick is doing what you need to do anyway.”

But most often, I worked as a waitress.

These jobs paid just enough to survive and rarely required extensive background checks or commitment.

When I felt I’d stayed too long, when coworkers started asking too many personal questions or showing genuine interest in friendship, I’d move on.

Three years passed this way, a blur of different jobs, different towns, different faces–none becoming friends, none becoming home.

I was Skye Anderson on my hastily obtained fake human ID, but I was no one, really.

After this year’s New Moon Festival, I arrived in a small Texas town called Boring.