Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Tricia's POV

The nurse looked genuinely scared and said this was a case of amnesia, but she didn't know why I was claiming another identity.

She hurried off, saying she wanted to call the doctor.

She added that the one who saved me had been among the guests at my husband's pack gathering that night.

Shortly after, a man walked in and locked the door behind him.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, with the kind of quiet authority that filled a room before he even spoke. 

His eyes were sharp and pale, almost silver, the unmistakable mark of a Lycan bloodline.

He took a seat and studied me for a moment.

"Good to know you've recovered your memory, Alpha Montclair."

I blinked, staring at him.

"Oh wow, you actually believe me, thank God!" I exclaimed.

"I thought you were going to come in here and say I'm crazy or something. And what's that weird thing about me being married?”

He studied me quietly before speaking.

"I understand you want to forget the traumatic experience from the last three years, but I think it's high time you drop the act."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're perfectly fine. You've recovered your memory. That doesn't mean you've forgotten everything about your present life."

I took a deep breath.

"Fine. You caught me."

Then suddenly my expression broke and I burst into tears.

"But how could he?" I cried. "How could he do this to me? Maxwell could actually do this to me after everything!"

"I cooked, I cleaned, I went on errands, I starved myself…"

My voice broke harder.

"…and still he brought in another she-wolf to take my place, all because I'm fat…"

I let out a broken laugh through tears.

"These are things I've never done in my entire life. I've had omegas to serve me all my life!"

I wiped my face roughly.

"You know what? I just want to go home."

He leaned forward slightly.

"You think running away from your problems will magically fix things?"

I looked down, exhausted.

"I'm genuinely tired," I said quietly. "To think I came to London for a pack alliance negotiation… and I had an accident… and I've been living another life for almost three years.”

My voice softened.

"I wonder how my parents are feeling… especially my father. He has always been so protective of me."

The man's expression changed slightly.

"He has been in and out of the pack hospital in the last three years," he said calmly. "He never believed you were dead. He refused to conduct a burial because your body was never found."

My head snapped up.

"Hold on a minute…" I whispered. "You've been keeping tabs on me all this while? you know me? Why didn't you help me?"

He exhaled slowly.

"You were already another Alpha's bonded Luna with severe amnesia. Disrupting your life would have caused chaos across three pack territories. I chose to let it follow due process."

My breath caught and then my face hardened.

"I swear I hate Maxwell," I said through gritted teeth. "He even had the guts to lie that I was kidnapped and then ran out of pack territory…"

The man's gaze sharpened.

"If you ask me," he said calmly, "this is the perfect time for revenge. Maxwell is on the verge of running the Crestwood Pack bloodline negotiations into the ground… with the help of his little mistress and her father."

I stared at him for a long moment.

"And who exactly are you?" I asked sharply. "How do you even know all of this?"

He didn't look away.

"I am a man who has always been obsessed with you," he said calmly. "But you never noticed."

"Huh?"

A faint, almost bitter smile touched his lips.

"Maybe because I was nobody to you then. I was one of the young wolves your father took under his wing through a pack mentorship program. We were at the same blood moon summit in college."

My brows furrowed slightly.

"I watched you for years," he continued casually, as if it was nothing. "But you never noticed me.”

He leaned back slightly.

"My Lycan gene activated later than most, but when it did…" He paused. "Everything changed. I united four Lycan clans under one bloodline and built a kingdom that every Alpha on this continent answers to."

I stared at him, genuinely taken aback.

"I'm… impressed," I admitted quietly. 

"You've done well for yourself."

His expression softened for the first time.

"I did all of that because of you," he said simply. "Because I believed if I could reach your level, I would finally be worthy of you."

I let out a small breathless laugh.

"You're a Lycan King…"

"Caspian Voss," he said. "King of the Ironmoor Lycans."

I held his gaze for a moment.

"Well… Caspian, I honestly don't think I'm worthy of love anymore. No wolf wants an overweight Luna."

"I know this is not what you want to hear right now," he said, his voice lowering, "but you were never the problem. Every wolf in that summit wanted Seraphina Montclair."

My chest tightened at the name.

"That was when I was the real me!" I snapped suddenly. "Yes, I've always been plus-sized, but I took my health seriously! I worked on myself… I took care of my body!"

My voice broke again.

"Maxwell changed me for the worse!"

Caspian didn't argue. Instead he nodded slowly.

"It seems you've forgotten," he said gently. 

"You've been on hormone treatment for most of your adult life. Combined with the stress you've endured over the past three years, your body has been fighting against itself. Lycan healers understand this better than most. Stress breaks a wolf from the inside out."

I frowned slightly, listening despite myself.

"Let me help you," he continued. "My pack healers are the best on the continent. We can restore your health, stabilize your wolf, and bring you back to yourself."

“Why are you helping me, King Caspian?” I asked quietly. “I know you obviously want something from me.”

He didn’t even look surprised.

Instead, he leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other, calm… too calm..

“I won’t deny you’re partially right,” he said. “I don’t just want something.”

His silver eyes locked on mine.

“I want you.”

“Me? How's that going to help this situation?”

“I swear,” he said quietly, voice dipping, “the only thing I want to do is snap that bastard’s neck in half.”

A faint, almost cruel smile tugged at his lips.

“Maxwell became my enemy the moment he laid his filthy hands on you.”

Caspian leaned forward slightly now, elbows resting on his knees.

“And no one,” he added, voice lower, sharper, “no one wants to make an enemy out of me…Because when I decide someone is my enemy…” he tilted his head slightly, eyes locking on mine,

 “I don’t stop until there’s nothing left of them to stand on.”

My throat went dry.

“…What’s your plan?” I asked.

His gaze didn’t waver.

“Be my wife, Seraphina.”