Chapter 89
ELENA
I sat cross-legged on the edge of Aiden’s bed, carefully peeling the corner of a sticker he’d just plastered onto my jeans. He’d decided I looked “too serious” and was now decorating me with sparkly stars and cartoon wolves.
“I think you need one right here,” he said, grinning as he stuck a bright blue sticker in the middle of my forehead.
I laughed despite myself. “Oh, do I?”
He nodded solemnly. “That’s where your magic is. You just forgot.”
I kissed the top of his messy curls and pulled him into my lap. I’d do anything to protect that innocent optimism in his voice—even if it meant pretending everything was okay.
But it wasn’t.
When Logan knocked softly on the doorframe, I looked up, already sensing what he wanted before he opened his mouth.
“You’ve been avoiding your treatments,” he said gently, stepping inside.
I shifted Aiden to my hip and stood. Goddess, he was getting big. “He needed me, Logan. Everything else could wait.”
“I know,” he said, his voice calm, as usual. “But if you don’t keep working through it, your past’s just going to stay tangled. You’ve made so much progress, Elena. You can’t stop now.”
I looked away, biting the inside of my cheek. Part of me wanted to argue. Another part—maybe the wiser part—knew he was right.
“I’ll go,” I said after a long pause.
By the time I reached the small office where Dr. Emmerich did his sessions, my stomach was already twisting. The couch was the same soft gray as before, the walls lined with abstract watercolors meant to calm people. They didn’t. Not me.
I didn’t see Logan, but I caught his scent in the hallway. Faint and lingering, like he’d just been here.
Dr. Emmerich smiled when I walked in. “Elena. I’m glad you came.”
“Not sure I am,” I muttered, sitting down anyway.
He clicked on his recorder and slid into the armchair across from me. “Before we start, I want to try something new today,” he said. “Sometimes, when memories are blocked, it’s not just about the past. Present trauma can make it harder to access the truth.”
“Present trauma?” I asked slowly.
He nodded. “You’ve been through a lot. Especially with your fated mate. Maybe it’s time we explored some of that, see if your current emotional state is interfering with your memory recovery.”
A cold knot formed in my stomach. “I thought this was about remembering who I was—not reliving who I became.”
“It’s all connected,” he said, already dimming the lights. “Trust me.”
I didn’t want to. But I closed my eyes anyway, breathing in like he taught me, grounding myself in the rhythm of my own heart.
The images came fast and hard.
Derek coming up on me that first day we met, snarling at the rogues he saw before him.
Derek struggling with the fact that I was his mate.
Derek carrying Cassandra out of the venue on what was supposed to be our wedding day.
Derek accusing me of betrayal.
Derek standing in the wreckage of my love, arms crossed like I was nothing more than a burden.
Each moment cracked open like a fault line inside me, and the doctor just kept pushing. His voice was calm, but the questions were sharp.
“How did that make you feel?”
“Would you say you trusted him?”
“Did he ever make you feel safe?”
By the time I left the office, I felt like I’d been hollowed out and stitched back together wrong.
When I returned to the Moonstone estate, I wasn’t ready for what waited inside.
Derek sat on the floor beside Aiden’s bed, patiently listening as our son babbled about moon phases and werewolf history like it was the most important thing in the world.
Derek’s hair was tousled. He was wearing that navy sweater I always liked—the one that made his eyes look impossibly gold.
He looked up when he saw me. His face brightened. “Hey.”
Aiden lit up like a sparkler. “Mom! Dad says he might take me running with him on the next full moon—on his back, like an actual wolf! Isn’t that so cool?”
’Dad,’ was a word I was still getting used to Aiden saying. I forced a smile. “That sounds… exciting.”
Derek stood slowly, watching me. “Only if you’re okay with it.”
Aiden looked between us, eyes big and hopeful. “Can we all do something together? Like… like a real family?”
A real family? Was something we weren’t. All the traumas with Derek that I’d just relived had me feeling like I was standing in quicksand.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said quietly.
The smile slid off Aiden’s face. “Oh.”
Derek’s jaw tightened. He didn’t argue. Just turned toward the window.
“I’ll see you soon, okay, bud?” he said, kissing Aiden’s head before brushing past me.
I didn’t follow.
I couldn’t.
DEREK
I should have expected it.
The way her voice changed—soft, but firm. The subtle step she took back, away from me, like we were magnets facing the wrong way. I should’ve known before I even asked.
But it still hit like a punch to the gut.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she said.
And that was it. Aiden’s face crumpled, confusion replacing joy, and my own heart cracked in ways I hadn’t prepared for.
I kissed Aiden’s forehead and told him I’d see him soon. He nodded, bravely holding in his disappointment like only a kid who’d had to grow up too fast could do. I didn’t look at Elena again. I didn’t trust myself to.
My boots felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each as I moved down the hall. The manse was quiet, dim in the soft afternoon light filtering through the tall windows.
Part of me wanted to turn back. To say something. Fight harder. Tell Elena that she was pushing me away because she was afraid, not because she didn’t care.
But I couldn’t.
Not after what I’d done. Not after everything I’d let happen.
She was right to doubt me.
The hallway narrowed as I turned the corner, leading toward the front door. And just as I reached the last bend near the old sitting room, something caught my eye—a picture I hadn’t noticed before.
It was small. Unassuming. Wedged between a stern portrait of a past Alpha and a formal painting of Moonstone wolves in formation.
A photograph.
Elena, maybe ten or eleven, stood barefoot on a patch of wild grass, grinning from ear to ear. Her hair was in two thick braids, one of them half undone. She had a bow slung over her shoulder, a blue ribbon clutched in her left hand.
The medal read First Place – Youth Archery. Her shirt was too big, and her knees were scraped, but she looked like the fiercest warrior in the world.
I stopped without thinking, something in my chest pulling tight. Something about the photo tugged on a memory…
And that expression—wild, fearless, proud—it wasn’t a smile I’d seen on her in a long, long time. Not since before…
Not since I’d broken her.
I tore my gaze away and kept moving, the sting of shame burning hotter than before.
I didn’t shift until I was halfway down the hill behind Moonstone, teeth clenched and chest aching. Erebus ran hard, paws tearing through the underbrush, as if speed could quiet the ache crawling up my spine.
She didn’t want me.
Not like that.
I could be Aiden’s father. But not her mate. Not her partner. Not the man she once loved.
And maybe she was right. I’d failed her too many times.
When I returned to the estate, human again, I found myself walking through the halls aimlessly. Avoiding Cassandra. Avoiding decisions. Avoiding the truth.
What was the point of trying anymore?
Elena didn’t trust me. Not with her heart. Not even with her memories.
Maybe I should marry Cassandra. Raise this child and at least be a full-time parent to one of my children. The thought made me feel sick, but there was a sort of logic to it. Stability.
Elena was slipping through my fingers, and maybe I deserved that.
I swallowed hard.
If she couldn’t find herself through memories of us… maybe I needed to remind her of the girl in that photo.
The girl who never needed to be told who she was.
The girl I still loved.
