Chapter 2 2

Lucas's POV

The door clicked shut behind me, and I leaned against the cool wooden frame, letting out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. She didn't remember me. She didn't remember *us*.

The ache in my chest was relentless, clawing at me with every moment I spent in that room. Aria's confusion, her fear-it was like looking into the eyes of a stranger when all I wanted was for her to see me the way she once had. But how could she? I'd destroyed everything we were before we even had a chance to begin.

"Lucas."

I turned to see Eleanor standing a few feet away, her arms crossed and her expression stern. She had always been the voice of reason in my life, but tonight, her words felt like needles.

"She's fragile," she said, her tone softer than I expected. "You can't push her like that. Give her time."

"Time?" I echoed bitterly. "Do you think we have time, Eleanor? The pack is falling apart, and now that she's here-"

"She doesn't even know who she is right now, let alone what she's capable of," Eleanor interrupted sharply. "If you force her to remember too quickly, you'll break her. Is that what you want?"

I clenched my jaw, my fists curling at my sides. No, it wasn't what I wanted. But every day the curse tightened its grip on my pack. The land was dying, warriors were growing weaker, and morale was plummeting. Aria was our only hope.

"I can't just stand by and do nothing," I said, my voice low.

Eleanor's gaze softened, and she placed a hand on my shoulder. "You've already waited years for her. What's a little longer? Let her come to you on her own terms, Lucas. Forcing this will only make things worse."

Her words were logical, but logic had little place in matters of the heart. Still, I nodded, knowing she was right.

"Is she safe?" I asked after a moment.

"She's safe," Eleanor confirmed. "But she's scared and disoriented. Don't make it harder for her than it already is."

I nodded again and turned away, heading for my office. The packhouse was quiet, the weight of our struggles pressing down on everyone. The curse wasn't just a physical ailment; it was a shadow that seeped into every corner of our lives, draining hope and leaving despair in its place.

I pushed open the door to my office and stepped inside, shutting the world out. The room smelled of aged wood and leather, the only sanctuary I had left. I dropped into my chair, running a hand through my hair as I stared at the stack of reports on my desk.

Every report was the same: crops failing, sickness spreading, border patrols encountering strange disturbances. And then there was the witch.

Morgana.

Her name was like poison on my tongue. She had been relentless in her torment, appearing just long enough to remind us of her power before vanishing into the shadows. She wanted me to suffer, and she'd succeeded.

A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.

"Come in," I called, my voice rough.

Marcus, my Beta, stepped inside, his expression grim. "We've spotted her again," he said without preamble.

"Where?"

"Near the western border," he replied. "She didn't engage, just stood there watching. She was gone by the time our warriors arrived."

My fists clenched. Morgana's games were wearing thin, but I couldn't afford to act recklessly. Not with Aria back. Not with everything at stake.

"Double the patrols," I ordered. "And keep a closer watch on the perimeter. If she's testing us, I want to know about it."

Marcus nodded but hesitated, his brow furrowing. "How's Aria?"

"She doesn't remember," I said flatly.

He winced, his expression sympathetic. "That's... rough."

Rough didn't begin to cover it. The bond we'd once shared-fragile as it had been-was gone, buried beneath years of pain and the curse's influence. And it was my fault.

"Does she know about the curse?" Marcus asked carefully.

"Not yet," I admitted. "She's not ready."

"Lucas," Marcus began, his tone cautious, "if she doesn't remember, how can she help us? The witch made it clear that Aria's return was the key, but if she doesn't know who she is..."

"She'll remember," I said firmly, though the words felt hollow. "She has to."

Marcus didn't argue, but the doubt in his eyes was unmistakable. He left after a moment, leaving me alone once more.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. Memories of Aria flooded my mind, unbidden and relentless. Her laughter, her defiance, the way she'd looked at me as if I were her whole world. And then the way her face had crumpled when I'd rejected her, the betrayal in her eyes cutting deeper than any blade.

I'd done it to protect her. At least, that's what I'd told myself. But the truth was far uglier. I'd been a coward, too afraid of the witch's wrath to hold onto the one thing that mattered most. And now, years later, I was paying the price.

A faint knock startled me. This one was softer, hesitant.

"Lucas?"

Her voice sent a shiver down my spine. I straightened, my heart pounding as the door creaked open. Aria stood there, her frame silhouetted against the hallway light.

"I..." She faltered, her gaze darting around the room. "I can't sleep."

My throat tightened, and I forced myself to remain calm. "Come in," I said, my voice gentler than before.

She stepped inside, her movements tentative. Her eyes scanned the room, lingering on the map of the territory pinned to the wall, the papers strewn across my desk.

"I keep trying to remember," she said quietly, her arms wrapping around herself. "But it's like there's this wall in my mind, and I can't break through it."

"You will," I said, my chest aching at the vulnerability in her voice. "It'll take time, but it'll come back."

She looked at me then, her gaze piercing. "And if it doesn't? What happens if I never remember?"

I hesitated, the weight of her question pressing down on me. "Then we start fresh," I said finally. "Whatever it takes."

Her lips parted, as if she wanted to say more, but she simply nodded. She turned to leave, pausing at the door.

"Goodnight, Lucas," she said softly before disappearing into the hallway.

I sat there for a long time after she left, the echo of her voice lingering in the air. No matter how much time had passed, no matter how broken we were, one truth remained: I would do anything to protect her.

Even if it meant losing her all over again.