Chapter 2

Aeliana POV

Mate.

The word echoes in my head like a stone dropped in still water, sending ripples through every thought. I can't stop staring at him, this male Adonis who claims to know me better than I know myself. His amber eyes hold secrets I'm desperate to unlock, but every time I reach for them, they slip away like smoke.

"I need to get out of here." The words tumble out before I can stop them.

Panic is clawing at my chest now, making it hard to breathe. The silk sheets suddenly feel like chains, the beautiful room like a gilded cage. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and immediately regret it when the cool air hits my bare skin.

What am I wearing?

I look down, and my heart stops. This isn't my faded Mickey Mouse t-shirt and cotton shorts. It's a nightgown. Well, if you can call something so delicate and expensive a nightgown. The fabric is so thin it's practically transparent, clinging to every curve like it was made specifically for me

Heat floods my cheeks as I can feel the cool on my butt cheeks. "Did you... did you change my clothes?"

Something dangerous flickers in Caelan's eyes before he looks away, jaw clenched. "My sister Elena did. You were... your clothes were torn when we found you."

"Found me?" My voice cracks on the words. "Found me where?"

He runs a hand through that midnight hair, and I catch a glimpse of claws where his fingernails should be. The sight should terrify me. Instead, something deep in my belly uncurls with recognition.

Stop it, Aeliana. You don't know him.

But my body seems to think otherwise. Every cell is humming with awareness, like I'm a tuning fork struck by his presence.

"At the wooded area behind your apartment building," he says carefully. "You were unconscious. Hypothermic. It looked like you'd been outside for a long time."

"That's impossible." I shake my head so hard my vision blurs. "I was at home. In Montana. I remember going to sleep in my own bed—"

"Memories can lie." His voice is gentle but firm. "Especially when one is unconscious."

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

I stand up too quickly, and the room tilts. Caelan moves fast, impossibly fast, and suddenly his hands are on my waist, steadying me. The moment his skin touches mine, the world explodes.

Warmth pools between my thighs, and I can feel how wet I am. It only ever happens after those dreams, the kind that leave me flushed, restless, and aching for more.

Images flash through my mind like lightning:

Running through moonlit forests, my feet bare against cool earth. Laughter, mine and his, echoing through ancient trees. His hands tangled in my hair as he whispers my name against my throat. The taste of wild honey and storm clouds on my tongue.

I jerk away from him like I've been burned. "Don't touch me."

Pain flashes across his features so quickly I almost miss it. Almost.

"I'm sorry," he says, stepping back with his hands raised. "I should have asked."

But we both know that's not why I pulled away. The visions, memories? felt more real than anything I've experienced in two years. More real than my quiet life in Montana, more real than the bookstore and Mrs. Ross and my carefully constructed routine.

More real than the person I thought I was.

"This is insane." I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold. "You're telling me I'm some kind of... what, werewolf's mate? That I lived here before? That everything I remember about the last two years is what—a lie?"

"Not a lie," Caelan says carefully. "But not the whole truth either."

Something in his tone makes my skin prickle. "What aren't you telling me?"

He's quiet for so long I think he won't answer. When he finally speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper.

"You were cursed, Aeliana. Two years ago." His amber eyes meet mine, and I see centuries of pain in their depths. "A witch who'd been targeting us spun rogues on us. She used some kind of dark magic, something we'd never encountered before."

My legs give out. I sink onto the edge of the bed, mind reeling.

"Cursed? What kind of curse?"

"Memory suppression. Identity theft, in a way." He sits heavily in the chair across from me, suddenly looking exhausted. "You fought, fought hard. But the battle... it nearly destroyed you. When the curse hit, you just... disappeared."

The raw pain in his voice makes my chest tight. I can see it the desperation, the frantic searching, and the growing fear that I was gone forever.

"But you found me."

"My patrol found you," he says carefully, and something in his tone makes my skin prickle. "They were on a mission in Montana. Found you collapsed at that area, hypothermic, Tired and confused.

Running from a curse.

The thought sends ice through my veins. I think about the nightmares I've had for two years—shadows with glowing eyes, the sound of something hunting me through endless forests, the feeling of dark magic crawling over my skin like spiders. Dreams, I'd told myself. Just dreams.

"I need air." I stand again, this time more carefully. "I need to put my self together."

"Of course." Caelan rises too, and I catch another whiff of that intoxicating scent of pine and leather and something uniquely him. "But Aeliana... you can't leave the territory. Not until the threat passes."

The protective edge in his voice should annoy me. Instead, it makes me feel safe in a way I haven't felt in years.

Years.

God, what am I thinking, this isn't me.

"There are clothes in the wardrobe," he says, moving toward the door. "Take your time. When you're ready, I'll show you around. Maybe something will trigger your memories."

He pauses in the doorway, looking back at me with an expression I can't read.

"For what it's worth," he says quietly, "I'm sorry. For letting you go. For not fighting harder to keep you safe. For every night you spent alone and afraid when you should have been here, with me."

Then he's gone, leaving me alone with my scattered thoughts and the growing certainty that nothing absolutely nothing is as simple as I thought.

I walk to the window and push aside those heavy velvet curtains. Outside, the world is wild and beautiful and utterly foreign. Mountains stretch as far as I can see, covered in forests so thick they look black in the morning light. Somewhere in the distance, I hear a sound that makes my blood sing, a howl, long and haunting and achingly familiar.

Without thinking, I press my hand to the glass and close my eyes, hoping against all things that everything would be fine.