Chapter 139
MAGGIE
Seven Years Ago
“I don’t believe this,” he murmured, eyes wide as he took a step closer. “We actually found each other.”
We stood there in the clearing, surrounded by tangled branches and mist, the world narrowing down to this single moment. This stranger–this beautiful, solid, stunning stranger–had a voice that somehow felt familiar and a presence that reached inside my ribcage and pulled.
He smiled. “What’s your name?”
“Maggie,” I whispered. “Yours?”
“Logan.”
I grinned, my heart racing for the first time in what felt like forever. “Hi, Logan.”
He let out a breathless laugh. “Hi, Maggie.”
For a few precious seconds, it was just us. No packs. No blood. No war. Just fate.
Our wolves were already circling each other beneath the surface, drawn and tethered in that invisible, impossible way only fated mates could be.
Then I tilted my head. “What are you doing all the way out here? You’re a long way from any patrol lines.”
His smile dimmed, and he glanced over his shoulder. “A family friend is missing. She vanished a few days ago, and there’ve been search parties combing the area. We think she was taken by rogues.”
I frowned. “A woman?”
“Yes,” he said, his tone turning urgent. “We think she was lured into the woods. The last place she was seen was near the southern ridge. Her name’s Elena.”
My stomach twisted. My mouth went dry.
“Is this person you’re looking for…” I started carefully, “tall? Red hair? Fierce green eyes?”
He stared at me, hope exploding in his expression. “Yes! You’ve seen her?”
I swallowed hard. “I have. She was attacked. Thrown off a cliff. But she’s alive. I–I can take you to her.”
Relief poured over his face so fast it stunned me. “Oh thank the goddess–wait.”
His eyes narrowed. He took a full step back.
“Wait,” he said again, slower this time. “You… You’re not with a pack, are you?”
I hesitated.
“Are you a rogue?”
My breath caught. I looked down at my boots, shame burning from the inside out.
“–”
Chapter 139
“You are,” he growled, volge turning low and sharp. “You’re a rogue.”
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entire posture changed. Gone was the amazed stranger who’d grinned at me like I’d hung the moon. His lips curled, his shoulders stiffened, and his hands curled into fists.
“You knew who she was,” he said. “And you still didn’t take her back?”
“I didn’t-”
“You let her stay out here with them? With your people?”
“She’s not with them,” I said quicldy. “She’s with me. With us. Me, and my friends. We pulled her from the rocks
at the base of the cliff. She doesn’t remember who she is. We took care of her
“And you let her rot out here instead of going to someone who could help her!”
“I didn’t know who she was,” I shouted, voice cracking. “We just found her–she was–she was bleeding-”
“Was it your people who threw her off that cliff?” His voice was pure ice now. “Was it you?”
“No!” I cried. “It was my father–Pierce–he did it, not me I swear-”
“So you were part of it.” His eyes burned. “You knew. You stood there and let it happen. You Jured me here, didn’t you? This was a trap.”
“No! I just wanted to-”
“You wanted to trick me,” he spat. “Lead me to my death. Goddess, I can’t believe I almost trusted-
I’m your mate,” I cried, trembling “Logan, please. I’m your mate. I didn’t know–I just-
“Don’t say that,” he hissed. “Don’t you dare say that.”
I looked at him desperately.
“I reject this bond,” he said coldly, his voice barely human. I reject you.”
The bond between us shattered like glass in a storm. My wolf howled beneath my skin, clawing at the rejection that slammed into me like fire. He took another step back, then another.
“I was going to marry her,” he snarled. “We were supposed to be bonded. Do you know what you’ve ruined?”
Tears burned hot down my cheeks
And then he turned and walked away, leaving me choking on my sobs and the ruin of a future that had only just begun.
ELENA
The room smelled like warm sage and something deeper- root scent that I couldn’t name. The lights were low, the curtains drawn, and the windows had been sealed to keep the space still and quiet. It was a f from the clinical setting of my last therapist’s office.
This room felt… sacred.
The man sitting across from me was tall and quiet, with weathered eyes and fingers that moved with surprising gentleness. His name was Dr. Alden Voss. He didn’t wear a lab coat. No clipboard. Just soft clothing and a golden ring carved with runes.
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Chapter 139
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“Tell me,” he said, voice low and patient. “What treatments were you undergoing with your previous doctor?”
I shifted in the chair. “He… he mostly wanted to talk about by traumas. He said that’s where the memories were stuck. That if I processed the pain, the memories would surface. He did guided visualizations. Some hypnosis. Regression therapy, I guess.”
Dr. Voss’s eyebrows lifted in concern. “Did he use any herbs? Sensory stimulation? Olfactory recall?”
“Um. No. Mostly just talk. Once he tried one of those memory lane soundtracks–forest noises and waves–but that was about it.”
He exhaled softly, clearly unimpressed. “Miss Hart, no disrespect to your previous doctor, but if your condition is linked to a supernatural trauma and based on your file, I’d wager it is then trying to treat it with purely human psychological methods is not just ineffective. It’s negligent.”
My throat went tight. “So what would you recommend?”
He leaned forward. “A different course entirely. Memory lives not just in the mind, but in the body. The senses. The soul. If you’re willing, I’d like to begin now.”
I nodded. “I am.”
He smiled, then lit a small dish of herbs. The scent filled the space immediately–earthy, sharp, almost spicy. He explained that the blend was used in ancient packs for memory unlocking. He said it would stimulate the hippocampus and deepen subconscious access.
Then he dimmed the lights and guided me down. Down through my breath. Down through my body. Down into the folds of memory like I was slipping through silk.
My heartbeat slowed. My muscles softened. The scent wrapped around me like smoke.
And then-
I was in the woods.
The air was damp. My limbs were heavy. The scent of moss and copper filled my nose.
I turned too slow, too foggy–and something slammed into me.
A man
His face was scarred. Not just one, but many. He was snarling, eyes yellow, breath hot and awful. He hit me again, and I screamed.
Pain.
Branches.
Water.
Hands on my shoulders.
Voices yelling.
And then–Maggie.
Maggie, her face twisted in horror, screamed at the man. “Don’t! Don’t do this!”
Chapter 139
She reached for me just as his hand connected with my ches
And then I was falling
off the cliff
Wind. Stone. Darkness.
But her voice followed me down.
No00000000!
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