The air shifted the moment she crossed the border.
Thick mist curled around Rhea's boots, swallowing the trail behind her. The trees grew taller here, gnarled and ancient, like silent sentinels guarding forgotten truths. Each step deeper into the Forgotten Vale made her heart pound harder—half from fear, half from instinct screaming at her to turn back.
But she couldn't.
Not now.
She was too close.
Wrapped in her cloak, the hood pulled tight, Rhea pressed forward through the misty woods. The icy breeze whispered through the leaves like voices—echoes of wolves long buried under these cursed grounds.
They said no wolf entered the Vale and came out unchanged.
But she had to try.
Callum's life—their life—depended on it.
Hours passed. Or maybe just minutes. Time didn't seem to exist here. The sun never pierced the fog. Shadows danced at the corners of her eyes, vanishing when she turned her head. Even her wolf, usually alert and tuned to danger, had gone quiet, tucked far beneath the surface like a child too afraid to look up.
Then, finally, she saw it.
A crooked cottage, perched on a hill of twisted roots, barely held together by vines and weathered stone. Smoke curled from a chimney, and hanging from the awning were bones—small, delicate ones that looked far too human.
Rhea swallowed hard and approached.
The door creaked open before she could knock.
"I was wondering when you'd come," said a voice—cool, ageless, and tinged with power.
The woman standing inside looked nothing like the crone Rhea expected. She was tall and elegant, dressed in shadowy layers that shimmered like spider silk. Her eyes were silver—not like the moon, but like a blade. Dangerous. Piercing. Ancient.
"You know why I'm here?" Rhea asked, stepping inside cautiously.
The witch's smile was thin. "You want to bring back the memories of a broken Alpha. One who no longer remembers you… or the secrets you've kept."
Rhea froze.
"Don't look so shocked," the witch said, gliding across the floor. "You carry more than a child in your belly, girl. You carry guilt. Desperation. And a very dangerous truth."
"How much do you know?"
The witch lifted a feathered jar and poured a dark liquid into a cup. "Enough to know your mate is in danger. And so are you."
She handed Rhea the drink.
"What is this?"
"A choice."
Rhea's brow furrowed. "A choice?"
The witch leaned in, her voice dropping. "If you want him to remember, you'll need to tether his broken mind to something powerful. A moment. A bond. Something only you can give him."
"Our mating bond," Rhea whispered.
The witch nodded. "But it won't be enough on its own. His mind was shattered by dark magic. Someone wanted him to forget."
Rhea's stomach turned. "Dark magic? That's forbidden."
"And yet it was used—by someone in your pack."
Rhea clenched her fists. "Can you undo it?"
The witch walked to a shelf and pulled down a small obsidian vial. "This will weaken the block on his mind. But only temporarily. Once it's open… you must anchor him before the memories overwhelm him."
"What do I do?"
The witch placed the vial in her hand. "You must bring him to the place you first fell in love. Remind his wolf what it means to protect you. Only then will the truth return."
Rhea tightened her grip around the vial. "And the price?"
The witch's gaze darkened. "Memories are powerful things, Rhea. They don't just heal… they hurt. When he remembers the secret you've hidden—what your brother died for—he may not forgive you."
Rhea's breath caught.
"I'll take that risk," she said softly.
The witch tilted her head. "And what if remembering… kills him?"
Rhea hesitated. Then whispered, "Then I'll die with him."
---
By the time Rhea returned to Bloodfang territory, the sun was setting, painting the forest in blood-orange light. She stayed to the shadows, her scent masked by herbs the witch had given her. She couldn't risk being seen—especially not with a vial of forbidden magic in her possession.
As she slipped into the healer's wing, her heart pounded with the rhythm of fate.
Callum was alone in his room, sitting at the window, staring blankly at the moon. The light framed his profile—sharp jaw, strong shoulders, and haunted eyes that no longer recognized her.
But her wolf stirred the moment it saw him.
And Callum's wolf… sensed her too.
He turned slowly, blue eyes locking with hers. For a second, there was something there—flickering. A storm beneath the calm.
"I didn't call for a healer," he said.
"I'm not here to heal your wounds," Rhea replied softly. "I'm here to help you remember."
His brow furrowed. "You again. Why do you keep saying you know me?"
She stepped closer. "Because I do. You're Callum, Alpha of Bloodfang. My mate. My everything."
His jaw tightened. "You expect me to believe that?"
"No," she whispered, uncorking the vial. "But maybe… your wolf will."
The moment the liquid touched the floor beneath him, a pulse of magic filled the room.
Callum doubled over, clutching his head with a snarl. His wolf surged beneath his skin, muscles tensing, claws sharpening.
"What did you do?" he growled through clenched teeth.
"Don't fight it," Rhea whispered, kneeling beside him. "Let it in. Let me in."
His eyes snapped to hers, glowing faintly gold now.
"Rhea…" he gasped, like her name was foreign and familiar all at once.
She grabbed his hand and placed it over her heart.
"This is where I first told you I loved you," she whispered. "Right here. You had just come back from the northern war. You were covered in blood, half-broken, and you smiled at me like I was your entire world."
His hand trembled.
"You said I made you feel alive again," she whispered. "Do you remember?"
His breath caught.
Then—like a dam shattering—it all came back.
Flashes.
Kisses in the moonlight. Her laughter echoing through the trees. His hands on her stomach, feeling their unborn child kick for the first time. Elias's warning. The ambush. The betrayal.
The secret.
He flinched away from her, gasping like he'd been stabbed.
"No…" he whispered. "No, Rhea…"
Tears welled in her eyes. "Callum—"
"You knew," he said, voice shaking. "You knew who was behind it and you didn't tell me."
"I had to protect you," she choked. "They threatened to kill you. And Elias—he made me promise."
"You let me walk into that ambush blind!" he growled. "I almost died, Rhea!"
"I know. And I've hated myself every day since."
He backed away, pain and betrayal carved across his face.
Then—footsteps. Voices outside the door.
"Alpha?" someone called. "We heard a disturbance."
Rhea turned to him, eyes wide. "You have to choose now. Tell them I forced my way in. Or tell them the truth."
Callum stared at her.
Then looked down at her stomach.
His hand lifted slowly—touched her there.
The connection flared between them. Strong. Fierce. Undeniable.
His voice was hoarse as he turned to the door and said:
"Tell the Elders to back down. My mate is with me."