Liam's POV
I pull into Willowbrook three days after leaving Emma at the hospital.
I promised myself I wouldn't come. I promised her I wouldn't follow. I spent two days at Frost Peak telling myself that letting her go was the right choice. That respecting her meant staying away.
But the mate bond doesn't care about promises.
It's been screaming at me every second since she left. It's been clawing at my chest, demanding I find her. The Alpha in me keeps saying the same thing over and over. Go to her. Claim her. Make her remember.
I tried to ignore it. I really did.
But on the third day, I realized something. I'm not ignoring the bond because I'm respecting Emma. I'm ignoring it because I'm being a coward. Because going to Willowbrook means facing her again. Facing the fact that I lost her.
So I came anyway.
The village is small. Exactly like Emma described. Snow covers everything. Small cabins line quiet streets. Smoke rises from chimneys. It's peaceful. Safe. Everything Frost Peak isn't.
I can see why she loves it here.
The lumber mill is on the edge of town. I find the foreman and lie smoothly. I'm looking for work. I needed a change of scenery. I'm good with my hands and I learn fast.
He hires me on the spot.
My cabin is smaller than the one I rented, which doesn't exist. But the mill comes with housing. It's on the edge of Willowbrook, close enough that I can see the town from the porch but far enough that I'm not in Emma's face.
I move in that afternoon.
The first week, I don't approach her. I just work at the mill and watch. I see her walking to the bakery in the mornings. I see her through the window kneading dough. I see her laughing with her best friend Rachel.
Every time I see her, my chest tightens.
She looks happy. Lighter. More like herself than she ever did at Frost Peak. And the guilt of following her, of breaking my promise, nearly crushes me.
But I don't leave.
Instead I work harder. I prove myself at the mill. I keep my head down. I exist in her world without forcing myself into it.
On the second week, I start positioning myself where she'll see me. Not in a stalker way. Just... naturally. I shop at the general store when I know she does. I eat breakfast at the diner. I take walks on roads that lead past the bakery.
I'm still lying to myself about why I'm doing this.
It's not manipulation, I tell myself. It's just being in the same space. It's just giving her a chance to get to know me as a regular man. Not an Alpha. Not her mate. Just someone new.
The truth is much darker.
The truth is I couldn't stay away. The truth is the mate bond won, and I'm here whether I promised to respect her space or not.
I see her for the first time in person on a cold Tuesday evening.
I'm walking back from the mill with lumber on my shoulders. The street is empty except for her. She's closing the bakery and when she steps outside, the setting sun hits her face and she looks like she's glowing.
My heart stops.
She doesn't see me at first. She's locking the door, focused on the keys in her hands. I have a moment to just look at her. To see her alive and healthy and safe.
Then she turns and our eyes meet.
Her entire body goes rigid.
I see the moment recognition tries to happen. Her eyes narrow. Her head tilts slightly like she's trying to place me. Her hand instinctively goes to her scar.
"You," she says. She crosses the street toward me. The movement is sharp. Angry. "What are you doing here."
I set the lumber down carefully. I'm still in work clothes covered in sawdust and sweat. I look like a mill worker. Not an Alpha. Good.
"I live here," I say. I keep my voice casual. Unbothered. "Got a job at the mill."
"You live here," Emma repeats. She's staring at me like she's trying to solve a puzzle. "In Willowbrook."
"That's usually what living somewhere means, yeah," I say. I even manage a small smile.
Emma steps closer and I have to force myself not to reach for her.
"You moved to Willowbrook," she says slowly. "After I left. You got a job at the mill. You're living here."
It's not a question. She's putting the pieces together.
"I needed a change," I say. The lie comes out smooth. "Frost Peak was too much. Too much responsibility. Too much pressure. I wanted something quieter. A place where nobody knows who I am. A place where I could just be a normal person for a while."
Emma's eyes narrow. "You're lying."
"About what," I ask.
"All of it," she says. "You didn't come here for a quiet life. You came here because of me."
I don't answer immediately. I'm weighing my options. I could deny it. I could make her doubt herself. But she's smart. She's already figured it out.
"I can neither confirm nor deny your accusations, ma'am," I say lightly. I'm trying to make a joke out of it.
She doesn't laugh.
"Stay away from me," Emma says. Her voice is cold. Final. "I don't know what you want. I don't know why you're here. But I'm asking you nicely. Stay away from me."
She turns and starts walking toward the residential area where her cabin is.
I watch her go and my chest feels hollow.
"Emma wait," I call.
She doesn't turn around.
I don't follow her. I respect that boundary at least. I stand in the middle of the street with sawdust in my hair and defeat in my chest.
I came to Willowbrook to respect her choice. Instead I followed her anyway. And now she hates me.
Perfect.
That night, I lie in my small cabin and I feel the weight of every mistake I've made. I promised I wouldn't follow her. I promised I'd give her space. I promised I'd let her be free.
And I broke every single promise the moment the mate bond got too loud.
I'm no better than I was before.
Maybe worse.
Meanwhile, Emma is lying in her childhood bed and she can't sleep.
She's thinking about grey eyes and dark hair and the way he looked at her on the street. She's thinking about how something about him felt familiar even though she's sure they never met in Willowbrook.
She's thinking about the way her heart skipped when she saw him.
She pulls her pillow over her head trying to block out the image. But it doesn't help.
Because her body remembers him.
Even if her mind doesn't, every cell in her body knows exactly who Liam Hayes is.
And somewhere deep inside where memories live, Emma is starting to remember.
Not his face yet. Not the Luna she was or the life they shared.
But the pull.
The mate bond is quiet in her, dormant but present. And on this cold night in Willowbrook, it stirs. It wakes up just enough to whisper that this man is important.
That this man is hers.
Emma falls asleep and her dreams are filled with grey eyes watching her. With strong hands steady and sure. With a voice saying her name like a prayer.
She wakes up gasping, her heart racing, his name on her lips.
"Liam," she whispers into the dark.
And somewhere across town in a small cabin at the edge of Willowbrook, Liam feels it.
The bond shifts. It moves. It recognizes that Emma is thinking about him.
He sits up in bed with his heart pounding and he knows.
She's starting to remember.
She doesn't know it yet. Her conscious mind will deny it. But her soul knows.
His mate is waking up.
And despite all his promises about respect and freedom, Liam feels something dangerous bloom in his chest.
Hope.
Because maybe letting her go wasn't the end.
Maybe it was just the beginning.