Liam's POV
The moment her hand hits my chest, I feel it.
The mate bond screams.
It's like every cell in my body is on fire. Three years of bonding with Emma, three years of her being my anchor and my reason and my everything, and now she's pushing me away like I'm poison.
I stumble backward and watch her face. Her eyes are wide. Terrified. She's looking at me like I'm a monster.
Maybe I am.
I leave the room before I do something that makes it worse. Before the Alpha instincts take over and I do what every part of me wants to do which is pull her close and never let go.
In the hallway, I grip the wall and try to breathe. The bond is clawing at me from the inside. It's screaming that Emma needs me, that she's scared, that I should go back in there and force the connection whether she wants it or not.
I don't go back.
Instead I walk to the waiting room where Tyler is sitting with his head in his hands. My Beta looks up when he sees me and immediately knows something is wrong.
"She doesn't remember you," Tyler says. It's not a question.
"No," I say. My voice sounds hollow. "She doesn't remember any of it."
Tyler stands up. He's my best friend but right now I can't look at him because if I do, I'll lose it completely. I'll break down in front of everyone in this waiting room and that's not who I am. Alphas don't break. Alphas fix things.
But I don't know how to fix this.
"What did the doctors say," Tyler asks.
"Three years. Gone. Head trauma. Memory loss." I'm talking like a machine. Like none of this is real. "They said forcing the bond could damage her permanently."
Tyler curses under his breath. He knows what that means. An Alpha mate bond is one of the strongest things in our world. If I push it on her before she's ready, before her mind accepts it, I could shatter her mentally.
I could destroy her.
"So what are you going to do," Tyler asks.
The answer comes out before I can stop it. "I'm not going to force her. I'm going to let her go."
"That's insane," Tyler says immediately. "You can't just let Emma walk away. She's your mate. She's the Luna. The pack needs her."
"The pack needs a Luna who wants to be there," I say. "Not a woman who flinches when I touch her."
Tyler steps closer. "Liam, listen to me. You're not thinking straight. The bond is making you emotional."
"No," I say. And I know this is true. "The bond is making me want to chain her to me. But she's already frightened. If I push, I lose her. Completely."
I leave Tyler in the waiting room and go find Dr. Hayes. She's been studying Emma's case all morning. When I ask about the bond, her face gets serious.
"The memory loss is significant," she explains. "But not necessarily permanent. Her brain is healing. The memories could return over time. But there's also a chance they don't."
"What about the bond," I ask. "If I try to strengthen it. If I show her what we shared. Could that trigger the memories."
"It could," Dr. Hayes says carefully. "But it could also traumatize her further. She's already frightened and confused. A mate bond to someone she doesn't remember consenting to is like forcing a connection with a stranger. For her, that's exactly what you are."
Forcing. The word hits different now.
In the Alpha world, forcing a bond is taboo. It's something rogues do. It's something monsters do. And I was about to become exactly that.
"I won't force it," I tell the doctor.
She nods like she's relieved I made the right choice.
The next few hours I spend gathering things. Photos from our life together. The dress Emma wore when I made her Luna. The necklace I gave her on our anniversary. Small pieces of a life she doesn't remember living.
When the nurse lets me back into the room, Emma is awake. She tenses the second she sees me.
"The doctor said I could see you," I say quietly. "I brought some things. I thought maybe they could help you remember."
I pull out the photos carefully. I show her the first one. It's from our first meeting at the treaty talks. Emma is standing beside me in formal clothes and she's smiling at something I said. She looks confident. Powerful. Like she belongs in that world.
Emma stares at the photo like it's a stranger's life.
"That's not me," she says softly. "I've never looked like that."
"That's you," I say. "That was three years ago."
I flip through more photos. Emma in training with the warrior wolves. Emma standing at the edge of Frost Peak like she owns it. Emma in my arms looking at me like I'm everything. Each photo is a knife in my chest because I can see her pulling away more with each one.
"I don't remember her," Emma says finally. "Whoever that woman is, she's not me."
"She is," I insist. But even as I say it, I'm looking at the photos differently. Looking at the Luna instead of my mate. And Emma's right. There's something in the Luna's expression that I never noticed before. A tension. A performance. Like she's trying so hard to be what everyone needs that she forgot how to be herself.
Did I do that to her. Did I pull her into my world and demand she become someone she wasn't meant to be.
The realization hits hard.
"I'm sorry," I say. The words feel inadequate. They feel like nothing.
"For what," Emma asks.
How do I explain that I'm sorry for existing. I'm sorry for meeting her. I'm sorry for loving her so much that I didn't see how much the bond was crushing her.
"For all of it," I say instead. "For this. For everything."
Emma shifts in the bed and winces. The movement seems to hurt her head. I stand up to help but she holds up a hand.
"Don't," she says. "Please don't come closer."
I freeze.
"You're scaring me," Emma continues. Her voice is shaking. "The way you look at me. Like I belong to you. Like I don't have a choice. It's making me feel trapped and I can't breathe and I need you to leave."
The words hit harder than any physical blow.
"Emma..."
"Go," she says. She's not yelling but there's steel in her voice. Steel that tells me she was right about that Luna in the photos. That woman was strong. And that strength is still there. Even without the memories.
I gather up the photos. I put them away carefully like they might break. Which they might. Everything feels breakable right now.
At the door, I pause.
"I love you," I say. "I know you don't feel it. I know you don't remember. But I do. And I'm going to prove to you that it's real. Not by forcing anything. But by respecting your choice."
Emma closes her eyes. A single tear slides down her cheek.
"I'm afraid you won't," she whispers.
I leave the room and I hear her call the nurse immediately. She asks for pain medication. She asks for security to make sure I don't come back at night.
In the hallway, I lean against the wall and I feel something shift inside me. Something painful but necessary.
For three years, I've been an Alpha first. A mate second. I've demanded things. Expected things. Assumed Emma would want the life I built for her because the bond said she should.
But Emma is teaching me something without even meaning to.
Real love isn't about ownership. It's not about possession or control. Real love is letting someone go even when every part of you screams to hold on.
So I'll let her go.
And maybe one day, if I'm lucky, she'll choose to come back to me. Not because the bond forces her. Not because I'm her Alpha. But because I'm worth choosing.
The thought terrifies me more than anything has in years.
But as I walk down the hospital corridor, I make a decision. I'm going to become the man that Emma deserves. The one who respects her. The one who doesn't demand. The one who loves her freely.
Even if it takes the rest of my life.
Even if she never chooses me back.
Because anything less would make me the monster she's already afraid I am.
And I won't be that for her.
I won't.