THE MEMORY
1098 Words
Aurelia barely slept. Every time she shut her eyes, the same images kept looping through her mind—a tangled forest, a boy, blood on the ground. Draven reaching for her as she walked away. And over it all, her own voice echoed: If I forget you, promise me you won’t come looking.
None of it made sense. Why would she ever ask the man she loved to forget her? And why would she agree to forget him?
By morning, she’d had enough. She needed answers.
She found Draven in the training hall. He stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching two guards spar like he was a million miles away. The second he noticed her, his whole focus shifted.
“You’re up early,” he said.
“I had a dream.” She didn’t try to hide that something was off.
His expression tightened. “Tell me.”
She moved closer. “It was about you.”
The guards stopped, sensing the weight in the air. Draven shooed them out with a single look. When they were finally alone, he turned to her, every muscle tense.
“What did you see?”
Aurelia hesitated. “A forest. Us, when we were kids.”
She watched something flicker across Draven’s face—recognition, maybe. Pain, definitely.
“You remembered.”
“Bits and pieces,” she replied. “You were with me.”
He nodded, quietly. “Yeah.”
“We were running.”
His jaw clenched. “Who from?”
“I don’t know.” That part just wouldn’t come back. “You don’t remember?” he asked.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. But she tried to force it—the sounds, the feeling of panic. “I remember your hand in mine,” she whispered.
Draven looked away. She saw his hands curl into fists.
“You were trying to protect me,” she said. He didn’t answer.
“And then we got separated.”
Still nothing from him, but she could see he was fighting something inside.
“You know what happened.” Her voice was gentle, but there was no mistaking it as a question.
Draven’s reply came soft, almost broken. “I remember that night.”
“Then tell me.”
He looked straight at her, but something in his eyes had changed—open pain, not hiding now.
“You made me promise.”
Aurelia frowned. “Promise what?”
He dropped his gaze. “To let you go.”
She felt her stomach drop. “Why?”
He shook his head, voice rough. “I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
His head snapped up, stung. “I would never lie to you—not about that.”
“Then why did I leave?”
“I tried to stop you.”
“And?”
“You told me not to follow.”
Then it blindsided her—the memory, sharp and clear. She was a little girl, running in the dark with Draven’s hand in hers. Someone was shouting, getting closer. Draven pulled her closer, saying, Stay with me. She was crying, voice shaking, I’m scared.
His voice—small too—answered, I won’t let them take you.
And then—she shoved his hand away. “Don’t follow me.”
Draven’s face was pure heartbreak. “I’m not leaving you.”
“You have to,” she’d sobbed. “Because they’ll kill you.”
The memory snapped. Aurelia gasped, hand to her forehead.
Draven moved in. “Aurelia?”
She barely heard him. “I remember,” she said, breathless.
“What?”
“You tried to save me.” The words just slipped out.
He didn’t speak.
“You didn’t want to leave.”
He shook his head.
“Then why did you?”
His voice cracked. “Because you asked me to.”
She stared at him for a long, long moment. For the first time, she actually believed him—not because of what he’d said before, not because of some old photo, but because she’d just seen it herself. She’d lived it again, behind her own eyes.
And that, somehow, made everything worse.
She looked away, voice unsteady. “If I loved you, why did I leave?”
No answer.
She tried again. “Why would I choose to forget you?”
He looked hard at her. “I don’t know.”
“You really don’t?”
“I know what happened after.”
“Then just tell me.”
Draven stepped closer. “I can’t.”
Her frustration came boiling up. “You always say that.”
He sighed, old and tired. “Some answers aren’t mine to give.”
“Then whose are they?”
He stayed silent.
She watched him. Anger wanted to rise up, but it wouldn’t. Not when she could see how much pain he carried—years of memories she’d been allowed to forget. All that weight on his shoulders.
She lowered her voice. “Did you really wait for me?”
He met her eyes. “Yes.”
“For how long?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “All of it.”
Her chest tightened up, stinging. She didn’t have words for any of it, so she just stepped closer. Their hands almost touched. They didn’t move. For one second, the space between them vanished.
Then a woman’s voice, quiet and cold, slid into Aurelia’s mind.
You must never remember the night he died.
Aurelia froze. Time seemed to stop. She looked at Draven. He saw something was wrong.
“What happened?” he asked, worry creasing his face.
She could barely get the words out. “Who was that?”
He frowned. “Who?”
“The woman.” Her heart raced. She grabbed his arm, desperate.
“She said something,” she whispered.
Now Draven looked scared too. “What did she say?”
Aurelia swallowed, throat dry. “She said... you must never remember the night he died.”
Draven’s face went pale.
Aurelia’s grip tightened. Fear crawled through her. She stared at the man who’d waited, who’d survived losing her, who looked at her like she was all he had left. And finally she had to ask the only question that made sense.
“What happened to you?”
Draven just stared at her.
For the first time since she’d met him, the unshakable Lycan King looked truly afraid.
And Aurelia understood—whatever happened that night was much, much worse than anything he’d ever told her.
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