Chapter 4 Whispers in the dark

Sleep remained elusive, slipping through Celeste's grasp like smoke. The night carried too many secrets, too many questions without answers. Each one wrapped around her like a noose, suffocating any sense of peace.

The quiet crackle of the dying fire was the only sound in the room. The warmth it provided did little to chase away the cold coiling in her chest. Memories refused to surface, no matter how hard she tried to reach for them. Something inside her screamed that this place was familiar, yet everything felt just out of reach, like a dream she had long forgotten.

The door creaked open, pulling her from her thoughts. Killian stepped inside, his presence filling the space instantly. Shadows clung to him, his dark clothing blending with the dimly lit room. His silver eyes locked onto hers, unreadable yet piercing.

"You're still awake," he murmured, voice low and rough.

"Hard to sleep when your entire life feels like a lie," she replied, pushing herself off the window ledge where she had been sitting. "Did you need something?"

"I came to check on you." He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossing over his broad chest. "And to make sure you weren't planning on running."

The accusation sparked irritation in her chest. "I don't even know where I'd go."

A flicker of something unreadable passed through his expression before he spoke again. "Then tell me what's on your mind."

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "Where do I even start? The fact that I have no memories of this place? Or that people are looking at me like I'm either a ghost or a threat?"

Killian's gaze didn't waver. "You were their Luna. Losing you nearly broke this pack."

His words pressed down on her, suffocating in its intensity. If she had truly been so important, why did she feel like a stranger?

"I don't feel like their Luna," she admitted, voice quieter now. "I don't even feel like me."

Killian stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate. "That's because someone took that from you."

The thought sent a shiver down her spine. "Do you have any idea who?"

His jaw tightened. "I have suspicions."

"Then why haven't you done anything about it?"

A growl rumbled low in his throat. "Because I can't act without proof. The moment I make an accusation, it'll start a war within the pack."

His words settled over her, cold and sharp. Whoever had erased her memories wasn't just an enemy-they were someone close enough to do it without suspicion.

"I need to remember," she said, voice firm. "I need to know who did this."

Killian hesitated before nodding. "Then we'll find a way."

A knock at the door interrupted them. Killian turned, his expression hardening as he opened it. Rafe stood on the other side, his usual smirk replaced by something more serious.

"There's a problem," Rafe said, glancing at Celeste before looking back at Killian. "You need to come to the western border. Now."

Killian's expression darkened. "What happened?"

"Scouts found something," Rafe replied, voice tense. "You need to see it for yourself."

A cold sense of dread settled in Celeste's stomach. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

Killian turned to her. "Stay here."

The command ignited her defiance. "No. I want to see."

His brows drew together. "It could be dangerous."

"I don't care," she shot back. "If this has anything to do with me, I need to know."

A long silence stretched between them. Finally, Killian sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Fine. Stay close."

Rafe muttered something under his breath but didn't argue. The three of them moved swiftly through the packhouse and out into the night. The air carried the scent of pine and damp earth, mixed with something else-something metallic. The further they moved toward the western border, the heavier the atmosphere became. Scouts stood in a tight cluster near the treeline, their expressions grim. Killian approached first, his presence commanding. Celeste followed, her pulse thrumming in her ears. The moment she stepped closer, the scent hit her- blood.

A body lay crumpled near the tree line, torn apart in a way that sent nausea rolling through her. Claw marks shredded the flesh, deep gouges exposing muscle and bone. Whoever this was, they hadn't stood a chance.

One of the warriors turned to Killian, face pale. "We found him like this less than an hour ago."

Killian's gaze flickered to Celeste before he crouched near the body, inspecting the wounds. "These aren't rogue marks."

Rafe knelt beside him. "Agreed. This was personal."

Celeste swallowed hard. "Who is he?"

One of the scouts shifted uncomfortably. "His name was Gregor. He was one of the elders."

A sickening weight settled in her stomach. "Why would someone do this?"

Killian's expression was unreadable as he rose to his feet. "Because he knew something."

The words sent a shiver through her.

Rafe let out a heavy breath. "This isn't just about your return anymore, Celeste. Someone's trying to cover their tracks."

Her heart pounded. Whoever had stolen her memories wasn't just hiding the truth-they were willing to kill to keep it buried.

Killian turned to the scouts. "Double the patrols. No one moves alone."

The warriors nodded and scattered, leaving only the three of them standing in the eerie stillness.

Celeste forced herself to look at the body again, at the way the wounds had been carved with precision. This wasn't the work of a mindless rogue. This was calculated.

A memory flickered. A voice-low, urgent.

"You have to go, Celeste. You're not safe here."

The image blurred before she could grasp it fully, slipping away like sand through her fingers.

Frustration burned through her. "I almost had something."

Killian's gaze sharpened. "What did you see?"

"Just a voice," she admitted. "Someone warning me."

Rafe exhaled sharply. "Looks like someone didn't want you to listen."

The weight of the situation pressed down on her, heavier than before. Whoever had erased her memories hadn't finished their work.