Reclaimed By My Alpha (Natalia and Andrei) novel Chapter 111

**He Knows the Door to My Soul and Who Forgot to Novel 111**
**Chapter 111**

Natalia

“Heading out for a run!” I shouted, my voice echoing slightly in the stillness of our home.

Damon barely lifted his gaze from the mountain of paperwork sprawled across the kitchen table. “Be careful,” he muttered, his attention still captured by the documents demanding his focus.

I offered a quick nod, slipping out the door before he could press me with any further questions. The weight of my deception hung heavily on my conscience, but I felt cornered. How could I explain that I was venturing into the woods to forage for herbs that might quell the inconvenient desire I felt for his brother?

Once I was deep within the embrace of the woods, I felt the familiar shift begin.

In my wolf form, I had always been on the smaller side—more agile and swift than bulky and muscular. My fur was a deep, rich chocolate brown, so dark it could almost be mistaken for black when the sunlight hit it just right, and my underbelly was a soft cream. Damon often joked that I looked as if I had been dipped in warm chocolate and then rolled in sugar, a playful compliment that always made me smile.

I shook out my coat, letting the crisp air fill my lungs as I took in the myriad of scents that surrounded me. The earthy aroma of decomposing leaves, the faint trace of rabbit tracks left behind, and the lingering scent of a fox that had passed through not long ago. Everything was sharper, clearer in this form. Without a moment’s hesitation, I launched into a run.

This was true freedom. The wind ruffled through my fur, the solid earth beneath my paws felt invigorating, and the steady rhythm of my wolf’s heartbeat resonated within me. In this moment, there was no past to haunt me, no future to worry about—only the exhilarating present. I longed for more moments like this, but with the twins keeping me on my toes, such opportunities were rare these days.

Not that I didn’t miss them; I felt their absence like a dull ache in my chest, and I was already counting down the days until their return. Part of my motivation for this excursion was to ensure their safety by keeping my distance from Andrei as much as possible.

According to Emily’s instructions, the healer’s cottage was nestled near the old waterfall, approximately five miles into neutral territory.

As I approached a small clearing a half-mile away from my destination, I shifted back, feeling the world dull around me as my wolf’s heightened senses faded. The healer’s dwelling appeared just as Emily had described—a quaint stone cottage snugly positioned against the cliffside.

I hesitated at the wooden door, my hand hovering uncertainly as I contemplated knocking. Was I truly prepared to do this? To suppress my wolf’s natural instincts with an herbal remedy? It felt fundamentally wrong, like I was betraying a part of myself.

Yet the alternative loomed larger and more daunting.

I rapped my knuckles against the door.

It creaked open almost instantly, revealing a diminutive elderly woman with skin like parchment and wispy white hair. She squinted up at me from beneath two bushy gray eyebrows, her expression a mix of curiosity and knowing.

“So it really does work like that?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.

“Yes.” The healer turned towards me, her hands busy grinding the herbs together with a mortar and pestle. “But I can sense your wolf isn’t pleased about this decision. Are you certain you want to go through with it? There are risks involved, you know.”

“What kind of risks?” I inquired, a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach.

“Used sparingly, it will indeed dampen your urges. However,” she paused, adding a pinch of something that smelled faintly of cinnamon to her mixture, “if used too frequently…”

A chill skittered down my spine. “Damage how?”

“Wolves are creatures of instinct and passion. Suppress those traits for too long, and the wolf may retreat. Essentially, she can go dormant.”

The very thought of losing my wolf sent a wave of unease crashing over me. But I kept my lips sealed. This was too significant to dismiss simply because of some superstitions. “I’ll be careful,” I assured her. “I promise to use it only when absolutely necessary.”

The healer held my gaze for a long moment, a silent understanding passing between us, before she nodded and returned to her work. She added a greenish liquid to the ground herbs, stirring the mixture until it thickened into a paste. Finally, she spooned the concoction into a small glass vial, sealing it with wax as if it contained the very essence of my choice.