Todos os capítulos de Remember Me, Alpha : Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

MIRA POV“Where are we going.”“Up.”That was all he said. He had said it in Petra’s hallway when I came out with my coat and I had followed him to the pack building and through the side door that took the stairs and now we were going up and he had not added anything to up and I had not asked again.Four flights. The stairwell smelled like concrete and the faint metallic cold of a building at night. My footsteps and his, slightly out of sync. A light on the second floor landing that buzzed faintly every few seconds. At the top there was a door with a push bar and he hit it with his forearm and the cold came in immediately, sharp and clean, and then we were on the roof.I stopped walking.The city was below us. All of it, stretched out in every direction, lit up against the dark, the buildings and the roads and the river catching light further out and the mountain range sitting beyond all of it, enormous and dark, its edges just visible against a sky that was deep blue rather than ful

MIRA POVHis assistant looked up when I came through the door.“He’s in a call,” she said.“I’ll wait.”I didn’t wait. I stood in the small anteroom outside his office door for about ninety seconds until the low sound of his voice on the other side stopped and then I knocked once and went in.He was at his desk. Phone still in his hand. He looked up and whatever he was about to say shifted when he saw what I was carrying.I put the mug on his desk. Dark blue, chipped handle, sitting between his notepad and his coffee cup like it belonged there. Which it didn’t. Which was the point.“Where did this come from,” I said.He put the phone down. He looked at the mug. He looked at it for a long time, longer than a person needed to look at a mug, the way he looked at things he was trying to understand the edges of.“Where did you get it,” he said.“It was at my door this morning. No note, no name. I’m asking you where it came from.”He sat back in his chair. His eyes moved from the mug to my

MIRA POV“How long have you been keeping these.”“Three weeks,” Petra said. “Since the gathering. Since I saw her watching you and Caius and making a phone call on her way out.” She smoothed one of the pages with the flat of her hand. “I didn’t know what I was looking for exactly. I just started noting when she was in rooms she didn’t have a rank-based reason to be in.”Her kitchen table was covered. Twelve pages of notes, some handwritten, some printed from pack records she’d accessed through her Beta clearance. Sable was on her left going through them in order. I was standing at the end of the table because sitting down didn’t feel like something my body was interested in doing right now.Petra’s kitchen was the most organised room I knew. Everything had a place and stayed in it, the way Petra herself worked, methodical and consistent and never leaving loose ends. The table she used for eating had been cleared completely and replaced with this, and the fact that she had done that, t

MIRA POV “Yes,” I said. Just the one word. He had asked it plainly and I had answered it plainly and now it was in the air between us and I watched it land in him. Something changed in his face. Not dramatically. Not all at once. It moved through him like something that had been waiting for permission, starting behind his eyes and working outward, and the professional calm he usually kept running underneath everything sharpened into something else. Something more personal. More focused. The Alpha part of him had been running since the moment he came home, efficient and deliberate, and this was different from that. This was older. I had been carrying the memory of every version of his face for five years and I knew this particular shift. I had seen it in memory but seeing it now in real time in real light with both of us actually in the same room was different. The memory was always slightly flattened by the translation, the way a photograph was not quite the thing itself. This was

MIRA POV“I’ve made a decision.”Sable was at the stove when I said it, making eggs because he had shown up at my door at eight in the morning and decided the solution to whatever he could see in my face was food. He didn’t turn around right away. He turned the heat down first, then turned.“Tell me,” he said.“I’m going to return the memories.”He looked at me. He was doing the thing where he was very still and making space for it to finish arriving before he responded.“When,” he said.“Today. As soon as I can get to him.”More stillness. Then he nodded, once, the nod he did when something had been decided and he wasn’t going to argue with it. “What changed.”Sable had been asking me this question in different ways for months. Not with words all the time. With the way he looked at me when the headaches were bad. With the way he turned up at my door on bad mornings. With the way he had sat very still at Petra’s table when we found the safe house note. He had been waiting for this ans