After an hour that felt like a lifetime of battling through Greenhaven Forest's nightmarish gauntlet, the trees finally parted to reveal the familiar stone walls of Eldervale. Ethan stumbled through the town gates like a man returning from war, which in many ways, he was.
Citizens recoiled from his appearance—torn clothing, blood-matted hair, wild eyes that had seen too much in too short a time. His steps were uneven, his breathing labored, but his lips moved constantly, whispering the same word like a prayer.
"Emberlyn... Emberlyn... Emberlyn..."
The name was his anchor, the only thing keeping him conscious as hunger gnawed at his empty stomach and pain radiated from countless wounds. He moved through the town like a ghost, scanning every face, every flash of red hair, every familiar silhouette.
Then, like sunlight breaking through storm clouds, he saw her.
Fiery red hair cascaded down her back as she stood in the market square, surrounded by a group of hunters. Even from a distance, even in his delirium, Ethan would recognize that graceful posture anywhere. It was Emberlyn—his wife, his heart, his entire world.
"Emberlyn!" The name burst from his lips with all the force of his desperate love, cutting through the market's din like a blade.
She turned, and for one perfect moment, their eyes met across the crowded square. Ethan's heart soared as relief flooded through him. She had seen him! As her eyes finally focused on his state, she froze. Her expression shifted from confusion to sheer horror.
"Ethan?" she whispered in shock.
Ethan gave her a weak smile, relief flooding through him. "I finally found you, Emberlyn..." he murmured, his voice nearly breaking.
Emberlyn's eyes widened, and within a heartbeat, she rushed toward him. Worry and joy flickered in her gaze. As she opened her arms, Ethan reached out as if grasping onto the last glimmer of hope.
In that moment, as they embraced, the pain, exhaustion, and fear melted away—replaced by the overwhelming relief of reunion.
Even in his battered state, Ethan felt whole, for he was now in the embrace of the woman he loved. Emberlyn gazed at him with deep affection, and in their eyes, the strength of love shone—a love capable of overcoming any trial.
"Thank you, my love, for worrying about me! Let's go home," he heard her whisper softly, felt the gentle press of her lips against his forehead.
For a moment—one perfect, beautiful moment—everything was right with the world again. He was safe in his wife's arms, surrounded by her familiar scent and warmth. The nightmare was over. They could go home to their cottage, back to their quiet life of shared breakfasts and gentle embraces.
But then the dream shattered like glass.
"Who are you?"
The words hit him like a physical blow. Ethan's eyes snapped open to find himself alone in the market square, the concerned Emberlyn of his desperate hallucination nowhere to be seen. The real Emberlyn stood several feet away, staring at him with cold confusion.
"Huh?" The sound escaped him like a wounded animal's whimper.
'Wasn't she just beside me? How did she suddenly end up over there?' His mind reeled, trying to reconcile the vivid embrace he'd felt with the harsh reality before him.
"Who are you?" Emberlyn repeated her question, her expression filled with doubt and growing irritation.
Ethan felt the world tilt beneath his feet. This was Emberlyn—his Emberlyn—the woman who had pressed kisses to his hand, who had marveled at his cooking, who had whispered sweet words against his back just yesterday morning. But she was looking at him like he was a complete stranger.
"What do you mean? Who am I?" His voice was barely a whisper, trembling with disbelief and growing horror.
That's when he noticed it—the white bandage wrapped around her head, stark against her fiery hair. Something had happened to her, something that explained this impossible, heartbreaking scene.
As his eyes adjusted to focus on the group around her, he recognized several faces from Eldervale's hunting community. Among them stood Lucas—tall, handsome, everything Ethan had always feared he wasn't. The man who had openly pursued Emberlyn before she'd chosen a simple chef instead.
Maybe she was hiding their relationship? Maybe she couldn't acknowledge him in front of the others? Hope fluttered weakly in his chest like a bird with broken wings.
"Can I talk to you alone for a moment?" Ethan asked, his voice thick with desperation and barely contained tears.
Emberlyn hesitated, her brow furrowed as if trying to solve a puzzle she couldn't quite grasp. Finally, she nodded curtly and gestured for the hunters to continue their conversation without her. She led him away from the crowded market square, down a narrow alley between two merchant buildings where the sounds of the town faded to a distant murmur.
In the privacy of the shadowed alley, with no curious eyes watching their exchange, Ethan felt a flicker of hope return. Surely now she would drop the pretense. Surely now she would remember.
Up close, the bandage around her head was even more alarming. Ethan's heart clenched as he imagined what might have happened to her, what injury might explain this terrible misunderstanding.
"What happened to you?" he asked gently, reaching toward the bandage with trembling fingers.
His concern seemed to soften Emberlyn's heart enough for her to respond, though her guard remained visibly raised.
"Huh? I… I made a small mistake during a mission!" She touched the bandage self-consciously, a familiar gesture that sparked hope in Ethan's chest.
Ethan could no longer suppress his longing. The pain of the past twenty-four hours—the sleepless night of waiting, the desperate forest journey, the battle with the wolf, the search through Eldervale—culminated in a surge of emotion that overwhelmed his reason. He stepped forward and pulled Emberlyn into his arms. For one brief, shining moment, he felt her familiar warmth against his chest, smelled the faint scent of jasmine in her hair, and believed that everything would be all right.
Then the world exploded into pain.
CRASH!
Ethan's body hit the cobblestones with bone-jarring force, sending up a cloud of dust and drawing startled gasps from nearby citizens. The impact drove what little breath remained from his lungs, leaving him gasping like a fish on dry land.
"Who do you think you are?" Emberlyn's voice was cold as winter steel, filled with a disgust that cut deeper than any monster's claws. "How dare you try to touch me?"
She straddled him, pinning him face down with her knee pressing into his spine as she twisted his arm behind his back in a brutal hold that sent agony shooting through his shoulder. This was his wife—his gentle, loving wife—but the expression on her face was that of a stranger. Worse than a stranger—an enemy.
"What's wrong with you?" Ethan gasped, staring up at her in shock and confusion. Dust from the street clung to his face, mixing with tears he didn't remember shedding.
Without another word, Emberlyn turned her back on him and walked away, her red hair catching the afternoon sunlight like flames. Each step she took away from him felt like a nail being driven into his coffin.
"Wait..." Ethan struggled to his feet, his body screaming in protest. Every wound from his journey through the forest had been reopened by his impact with the street, but physical pain was nothing compared to the agony tearing through his soul.
Before he could take more than a few stumbling steps after her, Lucas stepped into his path. The hunter's face was a mask of cold satisfaction as he grabbed Ethan by the front of his torn shirt and lifted him off the ground with ease.
"Stay away from her," Lucas growled, then hurled Ethan backward into a nearby wall.
Stone scraped against his back as he slumped to the ground, but Ethan barely felt it. All his attention was focused on the woman walking away from him—the woman who had been his entire world just twenty-four hours ago.
"I'm your husband!" The words tore from his throat with all the force of his breaking heart, carrying across the square and drawing shocked gasps from the growing crowd of onlookers.