Chapter 1

I followed Lucian to an unfamiliar villa. He pointed to the room at the far end of the hall. "This is your room. Get some rest, okay? Just call out if you need anything. I'll be right here."

His voice was gentle. He almost sounded like he really was my mate.

I nodded and walked in—then stopped dead.

There was a sunflower oil painting on the wall. I'd painted it five years ago, with my own hands. I'd thought it was lost. But here it was, preserved, spotless, clearly dusted every single day.

Lucian caught the look on my face and tensed. "Did you remember something?" he asked carefully.

I composed myself and shook my head.

He let out a quiet breath of relief. He only left after I was lying down.

Once he was gone, I took a proper look around. Besides the painting, there were other little things I'd left behind, all carefully preserved. Even the wallpaper was that soft buttery yellow I used to love. A wind chime I'd made by hand still hung at the window.

The truth was, Lucian and I were fated mates. But we'd met too late. By then I was already with Damien, already in love with him. So I'd rejected Lucian.

I hadn't imagined that after all these years, he still remembered every little thing I loved.

For a moment, my heart ached.

Then a familiar voice pulled me back.

"Lucian, just do me this one favor. Pretend to be her mate for a few days."

Damien. I froze. Through the half-open door, I could see the two of them in the living room.

"And what if Gianna gets her memory back?"

Damien let out a cold laugh. He didn't even sound concerned. "Even if she does, I'll just tell her I was joking. A little sweet-talking, a few nice gifts—Gianna's crazy about me. She'll forgive me."

His words hit like a fist to the chest. I'd never imagined my love was that cheap to him. Cheap enough to throw away.

Lucian's fist tightened inside his sleeve. There was an edge in his voice now. "She loves you that much, and this is how you treat her?"

But Damien didn't catch the shift in his tone. "Come on, man, you know how it is. Because of Gianna, I've had to sneak around just to see Brittany. Now that she's lost her memory, I can finally bring Brittany out in public."

"And let's be real—you've been holding onto her rejection for years. You've been waiting for a chance to get back at her. Here it is."

My stomach turned. The disgust I felt for him was sharp and cold.

I didn't catch Lucian's reply—Damien's phone rang and drowned it out. He took the call, then rushed out the door.

Lucian saw Damien out, turned around, and found me standing right in front of him.

He flinched. He glanced guiltily toward where Damien had gone, then pulled me gently into the living room.

"Why are you up? I thought you were resting."

I dropped onto the couch and kicked off my slippers. "My legs hurt."

I wasn't lying. The fight with the rogue wolves had broken two of my ribs and nearly cost me both my legs. And the person I'd nearly died protecting? Not a single word of gratitude. Just a scheme to use my "amnesia" as cover for his affair.

Something soft flickered in Lucian's eyes. He knelt in front of me and reached for my ankle. "Let me check the swelling."

I startled and pulled my leg back. "What are you doing?"

He looked up at me with those clear blue eyes. "Just checking. It'll help."

Seeing my panic, he shook his head, disappointed in himself. "Sorry. I forgot—you don't remember me. This is probably too much, too fast."

After a brief internal battle, I stretched my leg back out.

His hands were careful. Warm. The tension in my muscles melted away.

Watching how gentle he was, something in me went quiet.

Almost like he really was my mate.

"Feel any better?"

My face was burning. I looked away quickly. "S-sort of."

The corner of his mouth lifted in a soft, indulgent smile.

Damien's words surfaced in my mind again. He'd been holding a grudge against me for rejecting him. He'd even resented me for it.

But looking at Lucian now—there wasn't a trace of that. Just care. Constant, quiet care.

Maybe the Moon Goddess knew exactly what she was doing, I thought, when she chose us as fated mates.