REGAN’S HOUSE
I sat across from Regan in his spacious living room, the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the large windows. The place was cozy, a stark contrast to the harsh world we often found ourselves in. Regan, leaning back in his chair with a sly smirk on his face, had been relentless for the past fifteen minutes, teasing me about being the White Wolf.
“So, the great Aria Winters,” he drawled, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “The legendary White Wolf reincarnated. Who would’ve thought, huh?”
I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the heat creeping up my cheeks. “You act like it’s some big deal.”
Regan let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “Aria, it *is* a big deal. You’re literally a myth come to life. Do you realize how many stories I’ve heard about the White Wolf growing up? And now you’re sitting here, trying to act like it’s nothing.”
“Regan, stop,” I muttered, hiding my face behind my hands.
He grinned, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Oh no, I’m not stopping anytime soon. Should I bow to you now, or wait until you unleash some divine power on me?”
I threw a cushion at him, but he caught it effortlessly, laughing even harder. Despite his teasing, I could see the pride in his eyes, the genuine happiness that I was finally embracing who I was.