"Bastian," I began, my voice trembling, "I need to know... about us."
He moved to sit beside me, his body radiating a warmth that felt both alien and comforting. "What do you want to know?" he asked, his voice steady.
"Everything," I whispered. "I want to know everything."
He took a deep breath, then began to speak. He talked about our past when I wouldn't say I liked the sight of him. He told me about our arguments, fights, sharp words, and cold silences. And then he spoke of change, a gradual softening, walls coming down, and hearts opening up. He talked about love — unexpected and powerful, about two people finding each other despite the odds.
I listened, drinking in his words, trying to match them to the void within me. Each word was a puzzle piece, a fragment of the woman I used to be. It was a story of love, growth, and change — my story, our story.
As he finished, a silence fell between us. Tears prick at my eyes, a torrent of emotions washing over me: confusion, guilt, and an overwhelming sense of loss. I was a stranger in my own life, my past a foggy landscape I couldn't navigate.
"Thank you," I managed to whisper, my voice choked with unshed tears. "For telling me."
Bastian nodded, his hand reaching out to comfort me. But I pulled away, wrapping my arms around myself. I needed time to process, understand, and grieve for the memories I'd lost. As I fell into a fitful sleep, one thing was certain — my journey to rediscover Mira was beginning.
Every morning, I walked to the bustling market, my senses assaulted by various colors and sounds. The vendors knew me, their eyes lighting up with recognition and a guarded warmth. They called me by name and offered their goods as if I were a valued customer, not a woman lost in her own life. I tried my best to return their smiles, to carry on conversations that felt like reciting lines from a script. It was an act, a pantomime of the woman I once was.
Shopping was a peculiar experience. I picked out fabrics and trinkets as if I knew their purpose and what I liked. The colors and patterns looked beautiful, yet they stirred no emotion within me. They were pieces of a puzzle that didn't fit, square pegs in my round memory.
I played the part of the alpha's mate, trying to fill shoes that felt too big and foreign. I smiled at the villagers, nodded at their greetings, and laughed at their jokes. My heart screamed in frustration, its echo bouncing off the walls of my empty memories.
As much as I tried to fit into this life, the curious and sympathetic glances that followed me constantly reminded me of my reality. I was Mira, the amnesiac alpha's mate, a puzzle that no one could solve, not even myself.
At night, I would return to the cabin, the structure standing tall and welcoming in the dimming light. It should have felt like a sanctuary, a place of comfort and warmth. But it was just a building to me, another landmark in a town that felt unfamiliar.
In these moments of solitude, I felt the overwhelming confusion, the deep sense of loss. I was adrift in an ocean of forgotten memories, desperately grasping at straws of familiarity.
Despite the smiles and warmth of the villagers, despite Bastian's constant presence, I felt utterly alone. The only comfort I found was in the embrace of my wolf form, a state where thoughts and worries became secondary to the primal instincts of survival. It was the only time I felt a sense of belonging, a brief respite in the whirlwind of my reality.
As the days melted into nights and the nights into days, a peculiar solace began to find me in the heart of my own confusion. In my wolf nature, the primal and instinctive part of me, I found a sense of comfort. The void that was my memory had no power over the creature within me, the wolf that didn't question or doubt but was.
I was one of them, a part of the pack. My shifted form was a bridge to them, to the world that still looked alien in my human eyes. As a wolf, I ran with them, hunted with them, and howled under the moon. It was raw, primal, and it felt right. I was no longer just the alpha's mate who had forgotten her past. I was a wolf, a member of the pack. It was a bond that ran deeper than memory, an instinct woven into the very fabric of my being.
In those fleeting moments of belonging, I clung to the sensations, the raw feelings of being part of a whole. My human side was disconnected, disjointed from the world around me, but my wolf... my wolf belonged. The deep growls of recognition, the shared hunts, the communal howls that echoed in the night – it was a language I understood, a connection that didn't rely on elusive memories.
The pack accepted me, not as Mira, who had lost her past, but as their kin, a part of their wild family. With them, I was not broken, not lost, but whole. Yet, for every moment of belonging, I found within the pack, the human world around me seemed to grow stranger.
Just as the wolf within me found solace, the human part found chaos in sleep. I began to dream, not of my life, but pieces of a life I couldn't remember.
My dreams became a haunting maze of faces, eerily similar to mine. Several women all seeming to be a part of me. Their words were unclear, but the emotions tethering us were intense and raw. Were they my sisters, a part of my forgotten past? No one had mentioned family. This strange omission fueled my growing suspicions.
Could everyone be concealing something?
Every glance, every conversation now hinted at unsaid truths. Yet Bastian's genuine affection and the pack's acceptance muddled my doubts. Could this sincere camaraderie be based on lies?
The dreams intensified, and the women's faces grew clearer. Their names remained elusive, but their emotions felt startlingly real. A piece of my past was missing, and I was intent on discovering it.
But why was no one talking about them? Were these women even real, or was my mind playing tricks on me? There was something I was sure of now, something Bastian and the others were keeping from me. And I was determined to uncover it.
Chapter Twelve
The Reunion Unveiled
Mira
The forest was a symphony of life around us, whispering secrets through the rustling leaves and breathing life into the night. As wolves, Bastian, and I treaded softly through this moonlit world, our footprints forming a transient connection with the earth below. The sensation was grounding, a subtle comfort that countered my growing disquiet.
Bastian was steady by my side, his coat shimmering under the silver moonbeams. Each accidental brush against his flank sparked a pulse of connection, a silent reassurance that I wasn't alone on this tumultuous journey.