He vowed to love her forever. Then forgot she ever existed. After surviving a coup that left him broken and bloodied, Alpha Rowan Blackthorne awoke with a shattered memory— and no trace of the bride he’d married in secret days before. The council claimed she died in the chaos. He believed them. But three years later, a mysterious woman storms back into his life, demanding his blood to save a sick child. A child with Rowan’s silver eyes. A woman who feels achingly familiar… and maddeningly out of reach. Calla has spent years hiding among humans, raising the son the Alpha forgot. She’s built a new life, buried her past, and vowed never to return. But when her child’s life is on the line, she has no choice but to face the man who once called her his mate—and abandoned her without a second glance. Rowan doesn’t remember her. But his wolf does. And the deeper he digs into the truth, the more dangerous it becomes—for them both. Because the same enemies who tried to erase Calla once… Are ready to finish the job. Revenge. Redemption. A bond that refuses to break. She’s the bride he lost. He’s the Alpha she won’t forgive. But fate has other plans.
View MoreThump. Thump. Thump.
That was the sound of my heart beating loudly in my ears. I was scared. Maybe ‘scared’ was an understatement. I was terrified.
Smoke lingered like a curse in the air. It was suffocating and thick with ash, blood, and the shattered remains of a life I almost didn’t recognize. Everything looked different from the vibrant pack that we used to be. My bare feet slapped against the marble hallway of the East Wing, taht was now cracked and stained with battle. Each step I took stung, not from pain but from panic.
He was alive.
That was all they’d told me. Rowan. My mate. My husband. My everything. Alive, but barely.
I clutched the edge of the doorway to the infirmary, my breath catching in my throat. It was not entirely easy to breathe when I had not had time to tend to my own wounds and be calmed from the jarring whiplash of last night. From a beautiful moment with him to a bloody chaos.
Moonlight filtered through the broken windows, casting fractured beams over the pale bodies lined up under sheets. My stomach churned.
Not him. Not Rowan. Please, Moon Goddess, not him.
A healer emerged from a side room, her apron soaked in red. Her eyes caught mine, and for a moment, there was recognition—a flicker of empathy. "You shouldn’t be here, Miss..."
"Calla," I rasped. "Calla Rivers. I’m here to see Rowan. I—I need to see my husband."
The word felt foreign now. Fragile. She hesitated.
"Alpha Rowan is... stable. But he’s under strict observation. No visitors." Her voice was gentle, but she couldn’t hide the tension in her shoulders.
"Please." My knees buckled slightly, and I gripped the doorway harder. "Tell him I’m here. Just say my name. He’ll want to see me."
A silence fell.
She opened her mouth to respond, but someone else stepped forward.
Elder Elira.
Her presence turned the room cold. Elegant as always, not a single hair out of place despite the chaos, she looked down at me like I was an unfortunate smudge on a perfectly polished floor.
"That won’t be necessary," she said. "Alpha Rowan has no recollection of you."
The words didn’t register.
"What?" I asked because that couldn’t be true.
Just three nights ago, Rowan held me beneath the stars, his lips on mine, vows whispered between stolen touches. He had wrapped his cloak around me, called me his forever, and married me in secret. He had kissed me and promised a real ceremony once the lurking danger had passed.
Elder Elira folded her hands in front of her, voice flat. "He woke up hours ago. His mind is... damaged from the trauma. He remembers his pack, his responsibilities. But you, Miss Rivers? You are not among the memories that returned."
Miss Rivers.
Not Luna. Not Calla. Just... Miss Rivers.
My mouth went dry. "That can’t be. We were married. We took vows beneath the stars, he marked me—"
"The council has reviewed the circumstances of your so-called union," she interrupted smoothly. "There was no formal announcement. No ceremony recognized by the Elders. The Alpha was under considerable stress in the weeks leading up to the coup."
"We were in love," I whispered. "We were—we are bonded."
Elira tilted her head slightly. "Then why doesn’t he remember you?"
Her words were a dagger, slipping between my ribs harshly. But what gutted me more was the presence behind her—another Elder, broad-shouldered and stern, stepping into place as reinforcement.
"Miss Rivers," he said, voice void of emotion. "Alpha Rowan has requested peace while he recovers. If you care for him at all, you will not disrupt his healing."
"Let me just see him," I said, my voice cracking. "One minute. He'll remember. If I just see him—"
“Miss River, you–” I did not let her finish before I dashed inside.
“You can’t keep me from him!” I shouted, voice trembling as I pushed everybody aside.
.
The chamber beyond was dimly lit. Rowan sat on the edge of the healer’s bed, his torso wrapped in bandages. His back was to me, but I knew every curve of those shoulders, every scar, every line.
I froze again as Elder Elira caught up to me and stepped between us.
“You shouldn’t be here, Calla,” she said sharply.
“I need to talk to him,” I snapped. “Let me through.”
“Elira,” Rowan’s voice cut in, low and dangerous. “What is this disturbance?”
I stepped around Elira quickly, my throat tight with emotion. “Rowan…”
He turned toward me—and everything inside me stilled.
His silver eyes met mine.
And there was nothing.
No spark of recognition. No relief. No joy.
Just cold confusion.
“Who the hell are you?” he asked flatly.
My lips parted, but no sound came out.
“It’s me,” I whispered. “It’s Calla. Your—your mate. Your wife.”
He flinched like I’d slapped him. “My wife is dead,” he said sharply. “She died in the chaos. That’s what I was told.”
I shook my head violently. “No. No, Rowan. I didn’t die. I was taken. I fought to get back to you.”
He stood slowly, rage simmering beneath the surface. “Get her out of here.”
“Rowan—please,” I cried, stepping closer. “You have to remember. The moonflowers. The cabin. Our vows—Rowan, you made me a ring with your own hands.”
But his eyes only grew harder.
“I don’t know you. You’re not my mate. You’re nothing to me,” he hissed.
I felt the breath leave my lungs in a sharp, invisible punch.
“No,” I choked out. “You’re lying. Or they’re lying to you. Something—Rowan, please—”
He turned to the guards. “Take her out.”
The guards hesitated, unsure.
“I said, get her the hell out of here!”
Rough hands seized my arms. I didn’t fight—I couldn’t. My legs had turned to stone, my heart shattered. I stared at him as they dragged me toward the door.
He turned his back to me before I was even out of the room.
The door slammed shut behind me.
And with it, the last piece of my soul.
Elira's eyes narrowed. "Do not mistake our patience for leniency. You are a disruption. Nothing more."
The hallway spun.
I felt it then—the weakening of the bond. Like a thread fraying, the mark on my neck throbbed. Dull. Distant. The connection we shared, once vibrant and burning, was flickering out.
He didn’t remember me.
Or worse... they didn’t want him to.
My fingers brushed the edge of my wedding band, a simple ironwood ring, worn smooth from constant touch. A guard stepped forward. I hadn't noticed him before. He held out his hand.
"They want it," he said. "The ring."
I backed away, hand curling protectively. "No."
"If you do not comply, we will remove it by force," Elira said, her tone silk and steel.
The guard lunged, seizing my wrist. I struggled, but grief and exhaustion had drained me. In a single brutal tug, he pulled the ring free.
I cried out. Not from pain. From loss.
They were erasing me.
"You have until dawn to leave pack lands," Elira said calmly. "We will escort you to the border. I suggest you say your goodbyes to whatever illusions you were clinging to." She said then leaned closer to add, “And even this memory of him seeing you today, I will ensure he forgets it.”
My mouth opened, “Why?” I whispered, "He loved me," I choked out.
"Then why doesn’t he remember?"
She turned and walked away.
The guard dropped the ring into her waiting palm like a final insult.
I stood frozen for a long time, until the healer from earlier—still pale and trembling whispered under her breath, "I'm sorry."
It was the only kindness I received that night.
—
I ran.
Through the forest, through the cold, through the storm that had once blessed our wedding night. The same path we’d taken to the glade where Rowan promised me forever. It was ashes now, like everything else.
The trees blurred. My skin tore on thorns. I didn’t stop.
Not when the first wave of nausea hit. Not when the burning in my chest nearly dropped me to my knees.
Only when I was miles from the border did I collapse, gasping against the mossy floor, one hand cradling my stomach.
That night, I spoke aloud to the life inside me for the first time.
"I don’t know what kind of world we’re going to survive in. But you’re all I have left. And I swear to you, I’ll keep you safe. Even if it kills me."
The stars blinked above the canopy, indifferent witnesses.
Rowan Blackthorne had forgotten me.
But I would remember for both of us.
And one day, when the time was right... he would know exactly what they took from him.
“He can forget me all he wants. But I will never forget him. And I will never let them have my son.”
(Calla's POV)The air was thinner here, pine-smelling and cold. Each time I trekked these hills to the cottage of the old seer, it was another world.Freya marched alongside me in her characteristically calm way, but I could feel the inquiry humming under her skin. We had both been through so much, and yet here we were again, seeking answers.Asher's gentle laughter arose in my memory, the way he'd been racing Rowan around the courtyard that day. He had been okay, his cheeks flushed, his eyes bright, but a mother remembers what she witnesses. That fever.The frailty. How his tiny hands had clung to me. Even now, months later, the recollection could leave me breathless.I shifted the basket in my arms, loaded with offerings the seer would never refuse: a bouquet of Freya's garden herbs, honey from the bees of our pack, a small silver coin Asher had insisted on including "for good luck."Freya glanced over at me. "You're not saying much.""I'm thinking," I said softly."About him?" she
(Calla's POV)Night had descended over the packhouse, an unbroken scent of home. The hallways echoed with the fragrance of woodsmoke and soap from afternoon cleaning together with residual remnants of the dinner meal.Everyone else had left hours earlier, Rowan on a late watch, his ring of footsteps down the hall muffled in silence. Freya and Knox had retreated to their rooms, their muffled muttering echoing far away behind closed doors.The first time in what felt like an eternity, there was only Asher and I.His small hand tugged on mine as we sneaked quietly into his room, his bare feet producing barely any sound on the wooden floors. "Mama," he whispered, stern serious eyes in half-darkness of hall. "Sleep with me tonight?""Of course," I answered, tugging harder on his fingers. "I was hoping you would."The bedroom lamps glowed softly, casting yellow pools of light onto wolf- and star-painted walls. His bed was a pile of blankets and a hillside of snuggly toys, one of them positi
(Calla's POV)The scent of freshly baked bread had wafted down the corridor ahead of us when we walked into the dining hall. It was warm and yeasty and encompassed me like a mantle.After all those months of iron and ash and blood, even the clatter of plates against a table felt like magic.I stayed in the doorway, letting the moment seep in. The enormous oak table had been cleaned until it glowed. Candelight pool-ed at its center, throwing shadows across platters of roasted vegetables, stew-bowls, a loaf of warm black bread fresh from the oven. Someone, Freya, I guess, had placed sprigs of rosemary and wildflowers among the dishes. It wasn't elegant, but it was home.Home. I had savored the word on my lips and near-cried.The dining room itself had breathed happiness. Shadows had danced upon the walls, softer than they'd danced in months. No bitter fluorescent lights, no metal countertops, wood and stone and the gentle flicker of flame.Windows had been flung open to let the evening
(Rowan's POV)For one heartbeat after Drax's words, the world spun. My fist curled toward the knife at my side. The wolf in me snarled, muscles coiled to attack.After everything, Lena's deception, Cyrus's falsehood, Calla's near-death, the one thing I could not manage without was another adversary on my doorstep demanding "payment."But the hunter didn't flinch at my glare. He just stood up from the doorway, arms loose at his sides, eyes fixed. His smile had disappeared into something expressionless.It wasn't the grin on a man who was going to blackmail us. It was something. tired. Worn. Like stone worn smooth by too many storms.I stepped between Calla and whatever danger threatened her, automatically. She stayed seated on the bed, Asher over her side as if she'd disappear again.Freya was standing back just behind me, quiet as a ghost, her hand relaxed on the hilt of her sword."What do you think you're owed?" My voice was low and rough, the Alpha command threading through every w
(Calla’s POV)The first thing I felt was the light. For a second, I wanted to assume it was another fever dream. The space I’ve been stuck in for the past days, that was dry and muffled. But all of a sudden, I began to feel warmth. A real warmth against my skin.Not the cold heat I was feeling before but a human’s warmth. I felt two sets of arms.It was Rowan and Asher. They were hugging me from both sides.Their mixed cedar and smoke and milk sevenths filled me up. And it was the first real thing I’d felt in what felt like forever.I opened my eyes.Rowan’s face was above mine, his eyes raw and shining. “Calla,” he breathed, as though saying my name might make me vanish again.“Rowan?” My voice came out cracked, but it was mine.He let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. He bent, pressing his forehead to mine, then pulled me close. Asher squealed a happy sound and wrapped his arms around my neck.“You’re back,” Rowan whispered.“I… I think so,” I murmured, closing my eyes
(Rowan's POV)I'd thought the worst was past us when the hunter came to our door with Lena. Her wrists were tied, her eyes blazing dark like a fox caught in the trap.From the moment she crossed the threshold into our house, the whole house changed. The air was thicker, heavier, as if Calla's displeasure had been in waiting for its maker to turn the key.We had put her in the rear study, windows shut, thick drapes closed. Not even sentries at the door could keep me in my chair. My son slept in a heap of covers beside the fire.The only unbroken beat in the room was the gentle snore that came from him. Asher would shudder and scream periodically; I'd embrace him, brush his hair, and repeatedly tell him, "Papa's here. Mama will be back right away." Words that I prayed were not a lie.The farewell smile of the hunter lingered. He materialized at dusk like a ghost in a bad dream, Lena following along behind him under his arm in the dumpy style of a merchant dumping goods.No apology made
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