Drowning in Memories

"Orion. Orion. Orion."

His name fell from my lips like a desperate prayer as we plunged deeper into the dark water. The impact had been brutal—even with our supernatural healing abilities, hitting the surface at that velocity had been like colliding with concrete.

Every bone in my body screamed in protest, but that pain was nothing compared to the terror clawing at my chest.

Something was wrong. Terribly, horribly wrong.

Orion's body had gone completely limp in my arms the moment we'd hit the water. His powerful frame, which had held me so protectively during our fall, now felt like dead weight dragging us both toward the murky bottom of what I could now see was a river.

"Orion!" I screamed underwater, bubbles streaming from my mouth as I shook his shoulders.

His eyes were closed, his face peaceful in a way that made my blood run cold. This wasn't unconsciousness from the impact—this was something else entirely.

Panic surged through me as we continued to sink. The water was darker than I'd expected, filled with silt and debris that made it impossible to see more than a few feet in any direction. My lungs burned with the need for air, but I refused to let go of him. I couldn't.

He was my mate after all.

My werewolf strength kicked in, enhanced by desperation and adrenaline. I wrapped my arms around Orion's chest from behind and began kicking upward with everything I had.

His body was massive—easily over six feet and a three inches of solid muscle—and normally he would have been able to surface on his own without difficulty.

The fact that he wasn't even trying to help sent waves of terror through me.

*What happened to you?* I thought frantically as I fought against the water's resistance. *You were fine during the fall. You said you remembered everything from our past life. What changed?*

My lungs felt ready to burst by the time I finally broke the surface, gasping and choking as I dragged Orion's unconscious form with me.

The late afternoon sun felt blinding after the darkness below, and I had to blink several times before I could orient myself.

We were in a river, just as I'd suspected—wide and slow-moving, with grassy banks lined with willow trees.

In the distance, I could make out rolling hills and what looked like farmland. Rural England, most likely, though I had no idea exactly where.

Fighting against the current and Orion's weight, I managed to swim toward the nearest shore. My arms felt like lead by the time I was able to grab onto some exposed tree roots along the bank.

The muddy slope was steep and slippery, making it nearly impossible to haul Orion's massive frame out of the water.

"Come on," I muttered through gritted teeth, my muscles straining as I tried to find purchase on the slick grass. "You're not dying on me now. Not after everything."

It took what felt like hours but was probably only minutes before I finally managed to drag him completely onto dry land. We both collapsed onto the grassy shore, water streaming from our clothes and hair.

I was exhausted, every muscle in my body screaming in protest, but I couldn't rest. Not yet.

Orion lay motionless beside me, his skin pale and his breathing so shallow I had to lean close to confirm he was still alive.

His dark brown hair was plastered to his forehead, and his usually immaculate appearance was completely ruined—designer shirt torn and muddy, expensive trousers waterlogged and grass-stained.

"Orion, wake up," I pleaded, placing both hands on his chest and pressing down in an attempt at CPR. Water trickled from the corner of his mouth, but his eyes remained closed. "Please, you have to wake up. You are scaring me for real now."

I tried everything I could think of. I checked his pulse—steady but weak. I listened to his breathing—regular but frighteningly shallow.

I even slapped his face, hoping the physical shock would snap him out of whatever this was.

Nothing worked.

Fear unlike anything I'd ever experienced began to claw at my insides. This wasn't just unconsciousness from trauma or water inhalation.

I'd seen werewolves recover from far worse injuries in a matter of minutes. Our healing abilities were legendary, our resilience almost supernatural even by supernatural standards.

And Orion was a powerful one, it would take him less than seconds to heal.

Why wasn't he waking up?!!!!

I sat back on my heels, wrapping my arms around myself as the pieces began to fall into place.

During our fall, just before we'd hit the water, he'd told me he remembered everything. His exact words had been shouted over the wind: "I remember! I remember everything!"

And then, the moment we'd impacted the water, he'd gone completely limp.

"Oh no," I whispered, realization dawning like a cold sunrise. "No, no, no."

Past life memories. That's what this was about.

When werewolf mates found each other across lifetimes, sometimes the shock of recognition could trigger what the elders called a "soul trance"—a state where the consciousness became completely absorbed in reliving past experiences.

It was rare, supposedly only happening when the connection between souls was particularly strong and the trauma from previous lives particularly severe.

I pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to think.

Had I caused this? During our fall, when we'd been pressed so close together, when our bond had been reactivated after centuries of separation—had I somehow transferred my own seer memories to him?

Was he now experiencing not just his own past life, but mine as well?

This was not good! He doesn't have to see those painful memories. It was bad enough that I was obliged to witness it, but why he has to see it?!

It could only further make him more guilty.

"Damn it, Orion," I muttered, looking down at his still form. "You always were too intense for your own good."

If this really was a soul trance, there was no telling how long it would last.

I'd heard stories from the old packs—wolves who'd been trapped in past life memories for days, weeks, even months. It always took a very long time to wake up from the trance, as they relive the painful past memories and reflect on their past mistakes.

The thought made me sick to my stomach.

We couldn't't stay here. Not this way in a forest!

We were too exposed, too vulnerable. When that plane had been attacked, when we'd jumped—there would be investigations. Search parties. And if Valentin was still hunting us, he'd eventually track us to this location.

But how could I move Orion when he was completely dead weight? And where could we go being in a middle of nowhere? I didn't even know what location we were in, let alone where to find help.

When I had jumped, my phone had gotten wet and there was probably no signal in a forest.

We were trapped, with no one to around to help us.

I was still wrestling with these problems when I heard it—the soft sound of footsteps approaching through the grass.

Multiple sets of feet, moving with the careful, measured pace of predators trying not to spook their prey.

My head snapped up, and I instinctively moved to shield Orion's body with my own. The scent hit me a split second later, carried on the evening breeze.

Werewolves.

At least three of them, possibly more. The musky, wild smell was unmistakable, though I couldn't identify the specific pack scents from this distance.

They were still hidden among the trees lining the riverbank, but I could feel their eyes on us, assessing, calculating.

My heart began to race. In our current state—me exhausted and Orion completely unconscious—we were sitting ducks.

I had some fighting ability, enough to hold my own against an average werewolf, but against multiple attackers? With Orion unable to help?

We were in serious trouble.

I crouched protectively over Orion's still form, my muscles tensing for a fight I wasn't sure I could win. My mind raced through possible escape routes, but they were all futile. I couldn't carry Orion, couldn't leave him, and couldn't fight off multiple werewolves simultaneously.

The footsteps grew closer, more confident now. They knew I'd detected them, and they no longer bothered with stealth. Through the gathering dusk, I caught glimpses of movement between the trees—tall, powerful figures moving with predatory grace.

I knew for sure that either way, we would be confronted by those wolves, whoever they were. Whatever pack that lived in this forest!

Perhaps it was better to just call them out and come up with a diplomatic way to get help from them - it was the only was for survival.

"I know you're there," I called out, surprised by how steady my voice sounded despite the terror racing through my veins. "Show yourselves."

A low chuckle echoed through the trees, loud and amused. "As you wish, little wolf."