Chapter 5: Memory Like A Scar

 

Rowan’s POV

She was gone.

The glass door swayed slightly behind her, letting in the scent of night and citrus. But she—Elena, or whatever lie she wore like perfume left the space hollow. It did not feel right.

My blood still sat in her bag. She was going to use my blood to heal her son. 

And the boy— I could not even think straight, my mind felt like it was stuttering with the thoughts that kept swirling around.

My hands curled against the railing, gripping it tight. If I went too hard, I might bend the metal.

“You smell like me,” the little boy had said to me in the softest and most innocent tone i’ve ever heard..

Four words. Four damn words.

And it left me breathless and speechless.

My wolf hadn’t stirred like that in years. Damn, it had not even had my time. It did not stir this hard even when I took down the rogue pack at the border. Not when I nearly died trying to protect what little was left of our bloodline.

But the moment those silver eyes looked into mine?

It was like I’d been thrown backward in time. Submerged in memories that did not belong to me yet they hurt so badly.

I saw fire. Rain. A torn wedding dress. A scream.

I saw her.

Not Elena. Not the woman who walked out of here like I hadn’t just given her a piece of me.

No.

I saw her.

The woman from my dreams.

The one I could never remember when I woke up.

I gripped the edge of the metal railings until it creaked. “She lied,” I muttered to myself. “She’s not just a mother looking for help.” I said as if I was trying to assure the hunch in my head.

Because I knew that scent. Jasmine. It was faint but familiar, laced with rain and blood and something far more intimate. It clung to the boy too, soft and wild—just like mine.

No one outside my bloodline should smell like that.

Unless—

“Rowan!”

The rooftop door slammed open again. I turned as Knox, my Beta, stepped into view, already on alert. He was ready for a trap, he was prepared to lunge an attack before the enemies did, but that was not the case. 

“What happened?” he asked with those sharp eyes of his. “I saw her leave. You look like you saw a ghost.” He pointed out.

“Maybe I did.”

Knox frowned. “Was that the mother?”

“And the son,” I said quietly. “He’s three, maybe four.”

Knox stilled. His eyes searched mine. “You think…?”

“I don’t know what to think.” My voice dropped to a growl. “But he looked me in the eye and said I smelled like him.”

“Shit,” Knox muttered. “What did she tell you?”

“That her son’s sick. That he needs Alpha blood to heal. That she came to me for a reason she wouldn’t explain.”

I let the wind roll through the silence.

“She used a fake name,” I added. “Elena. But it’s not her real one. I’d bet my title on it.”

Knox nodded slowly. “Want me to run facial recognition?”

I hesitated.

Some part of me didn’t want the truth. Not yet. Not while it was still tangled in the fog of almost-memories that haunted my dreams.

But Asher’s eyes had been too sharp. Too much like mine.

“Run it,” I said. “Quietly.”

Knox paused. “You okay?”

No.

“Yes.”

I turned away before he could see the lie. My gaze drifted to the spot where the boy had stood.

He was tiny. Fragile. But there had been strength in him. A familiar stubborn tilt of the chin. A look that once belonged to someone I was sure I’d lost.

My mind spiraled back—pain flickering in flashes.

A forest.

A wedding torn apart.

Blood.

A woman in a dress that clung to her like regret.

But I couldn’t place her name. I could not see her face. Couldn’t force my memory to give me what I needed. Every time I reached for it, it slipped just out of reach, like smoke through my fingers.

I’d spent years trying to forget that missing piece of my life. Whatever happened to me before I woke up alone in the Blackthorne medical wing with claw marks on my chest and a Luna mark burned clean off my skin.

They told me rogues did it. That I nearly died.

But they never told me why I kept dreaming of silver hair and shattered vows.

Until tonight, I never thought those dreams might’ve been real.

I turned back to Knox. “I want to know everything about her. Where she’s staying. Where she came from. Who helped her find me.”

“And the kid?” he asked, already sounding ready for the task before him.

My chest tightened. “Him too.”

Knox nodded and disappeared back into the stairwell.

Alone again, I sank onto the bench beside the greenhouse door, letting the cool metal bite into my spine. My fingers rubbed absently at the place just under my collarbone—the spot where my Luna mark used to be.

It never fully healed.

Just a faint scar now. Like a memory the body refused to let go.

I looked down at my hand. The fingers she touched when I handed her the vial. There was a tremor there, subtle but real.

She knew who I was.

But I didn’t know her.

That terrified me more than I wanted to admit.

I thought of the boy again—Asher, she’d called him. He was warm and sharp, even through the fever. He didn’t look afraid of me. Didn’t shrink.

He felt like mine.

And if he was…

Then what the hell happened to the woman who once stood at my side?

Who the hell took her from me?

And why can’t I remember?

I stood slowly, the night wrapping around me like armor. The city below sparkled on, oblivious to the storm building in my chest.

Somewhere out there, she was watching.

Hiding.

Running.

But not for long.

I reached for my phone, hit dial.

When Knox answered, I spoke two words only:

“Find her.”