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.”
(Rowan’s POV)The stars above Blackthorne were dull tonight.Not even the moon dared to shine too brightly, as though it understood the unrest curling in my bones. I stood at the edge of the western terrace, fingers clamped tight on the iron rail, the night wind biting against my skin. Cold, crisp, tinged with pine and memory. It should have grounded me—should have calmed the chaos clawing at the edges of my mind.But it didn’t.Because something was shifting.And I could feel it.Calla. The boy. The way the air felt heavier in the halls of the manor, like the walls themselves were holding their breath. The energy had changed, like a storm gathering on the horizon, quiet but inevitable.Everything was no longer what it seemed.And yet, it all felt painfully familiar.Asher had called me the “big guy” today. The name alone shouldn’t have mattered—but it echoed. The way his little fingers had curled around mine, like it was second nature. The way his head had rested against my shoulder
(Calla’s POV)Night had settled thick across the sky, blanketing Blackthorne in a velvety hush.It was the second time I would be sneaking out. After the first day, I almost got caught so I aborted mission and decided to go at night.The pack house stood tall, its darkened windows gleaming beneath the pale moonlight, a beast of stone and secrets.I slipped out of the chamber with nothing more than the soft click of the door behind me and the firm press of resolve in my chest.Asher was safely tucked under the covers, limbs sprawled like a starfish, mouth open just a little. Rowan’s scent still lingered faintly from earlier. The pillow he’d laid on. The blanket Asher curled into. The bond forming between them was growing far too natural.And maybe that was why I couldn’t sleep.Because that kind of peace was always the precursor to ruin.I moved silently down the hallway, every sense on edge, wrapped in black from head to toe. The soft scarf I wore masked most of my features, and my si
(Rowan’s POV)I hadn’t expected the call to come so early. Honestly, I hadn’t expected it at all.But when the call came in from Calla—her voice careful, as always—I couldn’t say no. Asher wanted to spend the day with me. Me. And I’d be damned if I made him wait more than ten minutes.Now, with the boy bouncing in my arms, his tiny arms looped around my neck like he’d done it a hundred times before, I felt something warm settle in my chest. Something unfamiliar.Comfort.He smelled faintly of cinnamon and warm linen—whatever Calla had used on his skin this morning—and his hair was soft against my chin.“Where are we going?” he asked, bouncing once in my hold.“We’re not going out today,” I said, shifting him onto my hip. “Thought we could stay in my quarters. You haven’t seen them yet.”His silver eyes widened like I’d just told him he could fly. “Your room is big?”“It’s… decent.”“Is it bigger than ours?”I snorted. “Much.”Asher grinned and flung his arms in the air. “Then let’s go
(Calla’s POV)The first test was about to begin.I stared at the landline phone in my hand longer than necessary, debating if I should actually go through with this. But then I glanced across the room where Asher was sprawled across the rug, legs kicking absently in the air, humming as he built some complicated shape with a stack of wooden animal blocks Rowan had sent over a few days ago.“Are you sure?” I asked him again, kneeling beside him.He nodded enthusiastically, his silver eyes wide with excitement. “Yes! I want to be with the big guy today.”I tried not to flinch. Tried not to drown in the ache that washed over me every time he called Rowan that. The big guy. Not Dad. Not Father. Just… the title of a stranger who had no idea the blood running through that little body mirrored his own.But maybe it was better that way.For now.“All right,” I whispered, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. “But you remember what I said, right?”He dropped his blocks and nodded again,
(Calla’s POV)What the actual hell just happened?My hands were still trembling, the ghost of movement lingering in every muscle as the guards dragged the two masked intruders away. Blood smeared the floor. My breath felt like fire in my throat. My thighs still pulsed from the crouch I held too long behind that pillar, and my heart? It was a wild, caged thing that refused to calm.They were going to hurt me. Or spy on me. Or worse.And then Elira. That witch. That serpent in silk.She’d stepped into the hallway with her applause and smug little grin like this was a stage performance she bought front-row tickets for. But she hadn’t lifted a single finger to stop them. Hadn’t gasped, hadn’t flinched. Just watched me fight for my life and acted like it was entertainment.And I didn’t tell Rowan.I didn’t mention Elira standing there in the shadows.Not because I was afraid. Not anymore. But because… if I had, it would’ve changed everything. She was playing a game, and I was just starting
(Calla’s POV)It always began with a dream. A touch that didn’t belong in memory, a scent that curled beneath my skin. Rowan.It was one of those dreams again.My body reacted before my mind did. The warmth of his palm tracing fire across my waist, the press of his mouth just below my jawline, the whisper of his voice rumbling at the shell of my ear.“Mine,” he murmured.Heat coiled low in my stomach, and my fingers curled into the fabric of the sheets. My back arched into a phantom embrace, a need that bloomed despite everything I knew better than to want.And then—Crash.The sound ripped me from the illusion like a blade slicing through silk.My eyes flew open.Another crash. Outside my door.I didn’t think. I moved.Within seconds, I was off the bed. My instincts roared to life, louder than the pounding of my heart. I grabbed my scarf from the bedside, wrapping it tightly to hide my face. My silver hair was twisted and shoved beneath a cap. Nothing about me would be recognizable.
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