Her face fell, while her azure eyes remained hard and sparking with anger. She thought I didn’t see through her fake smiles and annoying nicknames, but I saw everything. She hated me, but she wanted the benefits of being friends with the alpha-mate. Sisily liked to have friends in high places.
Unfortunately for her, I had a very long memory. Ironic, considering my short-term memory loss of the last few months, but the rest… I remembered clearly.
I would never run with her as a pack.
“Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you at the house tonight for the mixer,” she replied with a huff, before turning and strolling off.
Good riddance, as far as I was concerned. Ditching the rest of my clothes, I placed my book and phone on top of the pile, shaking my head at the displayed date and time. Was that why my wolf felt so sluggish? Because our first shift had been delayed for two years? I couldn’t come up with another explanation, and I’d spent every waking hour trying to find one.
Maybe someone from one of the other packs would let slip a new piece of information. The pack mixer was Torma’s first real introduction back into the shifter world since our punishment. To think the Shadow Beast could just steal years of our lives was… scary. The demon in our shadows, who’d always felt more like a myth than reality, was apparently very real. Not to mention super-hot—according to the female shifter contingent—and lethal as fuck—according to the males. Torma pack had seen and fought him, during which time our alpha had been killed.
This was a huge fucking deal, right? So why couldn’t I remember it? Everyone else remembered the day the stasis had occurred, citing their fear and grief at losing time as well. Then they remembered the day we’d awoken, followed by the Winter Solstice about a week later. The last thing I recalled was going to school and Jaxson terrorizing me, and then the day I’d shifted and had been rejected, but the rest was blank.
I’d read stories about human women who had their drinks spiked, waking with no memories of that night or sometimes a few nights. Their grief and terror over being vulnerable during that time, possibly hurt or raped, had been palpable on the pages. I empathized with that, and the only thing keeping me sane right now was Torin’s assurance that I hadn’t slept with him yet.
We had been taking it slow while I made him work for forgiveness, which sounded more like me than any other parts of the story. Apparently, waking in his bed last week had only been the second time I’d slept over, baby steps in moving forward and trusting him again. Steps that were completely gone now as I attempted to pry free all my missing days.
A sharp jab of pain in my head told me I’d gone too far in prodding at those blank memories, and I had to back off. My memories did not want me pushing at them, warning me with migraines and near seizure-like attacks. If only it were in my nature to let it lie. Even knowing I would be afforded a nice, comfortable life as the alpha-mate if I just accepted it all and moved on wasn’t enough to force my hand.
Whoever had done this to me had given me almost everything my shifter heart had desired because they’d thought it would keep me complacent. And if the target of this memory manipulation had been inflicted on anyone other than me, they might have been in luck.
Who would be strong enough to do this, though? It had to be the Shadow Beast. It had to have happened when Victor was destroyed.
Had I annoyed the beast when he’d been here? My mouth had been known to get me into trouble, and while Torin assured me I’d never even spoken to the shifter god… I must have.
My wolf howled, and I didn’t fight her, allowing the change to wash over us. It was slow and painful, which I’d expected since we’d only been shifting for a few months. I mean, it was amazing I could even release her like this at all and not lose control of the Mera side of my brain. It had been that way since the first shift, and I still had no idea why.
Torin acted like it was due to our bond that I’d gotten control so fast, sounding all proud and shit when he said it. About the same way he sounded when he talked about the size of his dick, so it clearly wasn’t that hard to impress him.
My wolf howled again as we ended up on four legs, annoyed that I was once again hating on our mate. In her wolf mind, we just needed to accept our position here and be grateful to have such a strong, powerful mate.
If only the human mind worked the same way.
I knew I was being lied to, and my inability to get to the bottom of it when everyone in Torma was telling me the same story was driving me crazy.
It was a very convenient story, one that none of them ever messed up.
That was probably all a normal person would need to accept it, but for me, it had a “rehearsed” feel to it, and until I figured out the truth, I would trust no one in this pack.
Just like old times, since, apparently, my previous place of pack punching bag was the one part of my past I would never forget.
2
My wolf ran in a frenzy for the first ten minutes, and just as I was feeling a sliver of positivity that she was gaining in energy, she crashed, stumbling forward until we ended up resting beneath a tree. My concern grew, and as I tried to search through her essence for a reason, I had to ask, What’s wrong?
She whimpered, and there was weakness in her soul as I dug deeper into the bond between us. A howl spilled from us, and I wasn’t sure which one of us had initiated it; my wolf soul had never felt more like a separate entity living inside of me as it did today. But truth be told, I’d only known this bond for a week, thanks to my stupid memory loss. Maybe it had always been like this…?
My wolf and I whimpered together, laying our head on crossed front paws, staying in solemn silence for a long time as we searched for peace.
It never came.
Instead, what did come was a huge wolf who was almost as annoying as Sisily. He casually strolled into view, and I had the sense he’d been watching me for some time, like the fucking stalker he was.
Sighing, I got to my feet, but I didn’t shift back, not wanting to be naked with him.
The wolf’s shiny midnight coat was longer than mine, making him almost shaggy in appearance, which didn’t take away from how truly spectacular the new beta of Torma was.
Jaxson Heathcliff.
He used to be my best friend. I hadn’t forgotten the way he’d been my rock for so many years, but that had all changed when my father died. Since then, we’d been enemies.
In the past week, I’d only seen him two times, and neither had ended well as I’d screamed about my memory loss and everyone hiding shit from me. He’d called me insane, and I’d repeatedly thought about ripping his throat out.
Speaking of, my wolf growled, spreading our legs into a better position to attack if needed.
Jaxson’s wolf didn’t care, ignoring my hostility as he bounced forward and nudged me. That was all my wolf needed to shut down our anger, as she nudged him back, wanting to play and frolic with her pack. Me holding us back from pack life was no doubt adding to her melancholy.
I’d never felt this dark and low before, not even during the worst of the pack’s treatment. These depressive episodes were… like their own entity, and no matter how hard I worked to claw my way free, it sucked me under every day. It was even worse than when my father had died because at least then, I’d known why. I’d understood the grief.