Ch 3: Margaret Wilder

Alle's POV

The carriage rolled through the castle gates in complete silence.

I sat across from the woman who called herself Rybenna, but neither of us spoke. Every now and then, I caught her looking at me through the corner of her eye. The moment I noticed, she looked away as though nothing had happened.

I pulled my sleeve back just enough to look at my wrist.

The black vein was gone.

A quiet breath escaped my lips before I quickly let my sleeve fall back into place. I had barely begun to wonder if everything that happened at the castle had somehow ended when a faint burning sensation crept beneath my skin again.

It was still there.

It had simply gone into hiding.

Before I could think any further, the carriage gradually slowed to a stop. One of the guards climbed down first before opening the door for me.

"We're here, my lady."

I looked at the guard for a moment before stepping out of the carriage. Hearing someone address me that way still felt strange, as though they were speaking to someone else and I had answered by mistake.

I stepped down from the carriage and looked up at the mansion before me. It wasn't as large as Alpha Lowell's castle, but it was grand enough to belong to a noble family.

Before I could take another step, the front door opened and a young woman hurried out. The moment her eyes landed on me, she broke into a run.

"Margaret!”

She threw her arms around me so suddenly that I nearly lost my balance.

"I thought..." Her voice trembled as she held me tighter. "I thought you were dead."

I froze, unsure of what to do. My hands stayed stiffly at my sides because I didn't know whether I was supposed to return the embrace or gently push her away.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly.

She slowly let go of me and searched my face, confusion replacing the relief in her eyes. "What are you apologizing for?"

"I..." The words caught in my throat.

*Because I'm not who you think I am.* I swallowed them before they could escape.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks and forced a small smile. "Come inside. Mother has been praying every day for your return."

Every day?

The words stayed in my mind as I followed her inside. She had been waiting for Margaret — She had been waiting for her sister to come home; But sadly, the person standing in front of her wasn't the one she had been waiting for.

The house felt warm in a way the castle never did. Servants hurried about with relieved smiles, and more than one of them stopped to stare before lowering their heads respectfully.

They all knew Margaret and I was the only stranger here.

Mary didn't leave my side. She answered questions before anyone could ask them and gently led me upstairs until we reached a spacious bedroom.

"This has always been yours."

I stepped inside slowly, unsure of what I was supposed to feel.

The room was beautiful, but it felt like I was standing inside someone else's life. Everything around me carried a history I didn't remember.

The books arranged neatly on the shelves, the paintings hanging on the walls, and the dresses carefully folded inside the wardrobe all belonged to Margaret Wilder.

Not me.

I walked further inside, my fingers brushing against the edge of the desk near the window. There were small things everywhere — a dried flower pressed between the pages of a book, a necklace resting beside a mirror, letters stacked neatly in a corner.

Margaret had lived here, she had loved this room and had memories attached to every single thing I touched.

But when I looked at them, I felt nothing.

Mary stood near the doorway, watching me quietly. "You really don't remember anything, do you?”

I slowly shook my head. "I wish I did."

She walked to a wooden cabinet near the window and unlocked the bottom drawer.

"Unless I forget." She carefully lifted something wrapped in an old piece of cloth and carried it toward me. "You told me to keep this safe and give it to you as soon as you arrive."

I frowned as I looked at the object wrapped in the cloth. "What is it?"

"I've never opened it." She said as she placed it carefully in my hands. "You said I wasn't allowed no matter what.”

I slowly unfolded the cloth, revealing the worn cover beneath it — It was a book.

The moment I saw the cover, my fingers stopped. I knew this book.

No. That was impossible…

I opened it and stared at the first page. The title, the first sentence, and the first chapter were exactly the same as the manuscript on my laptop. Every word, every line, every mistake I had forgotten to correct was there.

My grip tightened as I turned the pages faster.

Chapter Twenty — Chapter One Hundred — Chapter Two Hundred — Chapter Three Hundred.

Until I reached the final chapter.

Chapter 399.

I stared at the final line, the same final line I had written before falling asleep, but when I quickly turned the page, I found nothing except a blank sheet where Chapter 400 should have been, and my hands began to tremble.

"Where did Marg—” I paused, closed my eyes and opened them. “ Where did I get this?”

Mary looked at the book before answering. "I asked you once."

"And what did I say?" I asked.

"You said it didn't belong to you."

I looked back at the pages. "Then whose is it?"

"I don't know. You never told me." Silence stretched between us. Then Mary spoke again. "You just said I should protect it with my life.”

I frowned. “And since then, have you never seen me?”

Mary slowly sat down across from me. No, you disappeared. We asked the pack guards and said they never set their eyes on you. We thought werewolf rogues got you, but their pack leader said he had no idea where you had been.”

“Huh?”

“You really did not know what happened?” Mary adjusted herself. “You made me swear to the moon goddess never to tell anyone or show anyone the book until you come back or Alpha Lowell's mate would come get it.”

“Alpha Lowell had a mate?” I asked because I knew vividly well that I made him so ruthless that women would rather commit suicide than be his mate.

"Yes, he had a mate. It was really a surprise when that poor lady accepted her fate. She should have known she would end up like the others before her."

"What's her name?"

"The name of his mate?" Mary repeated, looking at me strangely.

"Yes."

For a moment, Mary didn't answer. Her fingers tightened around the fabric of her dress, and her eyes moved over my face as if she was searching for the reason behind my question.

"You really don't remember anything?" she asked carefully. "Or... are you trying to scare me with one of your jokes?"

"No!" My voice rose before I could stop it. "I'm not joking. Just tell me who his mate was!"

The sudden force in my voice made Mary flinch.

Her shoulders stiffened, and she lowered her gaze immediately. The fear that crossed her face was brief, but I noticed it.

It wasn't fear of me.

It was fear of what my question meant.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, realizing how I had spoken.

Mary swallowed before looking back at me. "His mate..." she whispered. "Her name was Alle Strautmann, your childhood friend.”