Two-The Woman He Killed

1732 Words
For several seconds, Elara could not understand the words. They seemed to hang between them, too impossible to belong to the same world as the little house, the broken lock, and the photograph trembling in her hand. The woman I killed. She looked down at the photograph again. The young woman smiled at the camera. She had Elara's face. Not similar. Not almost identical. Exactly the same. Even the tiny scar above her eyebrow was there. Elara slowly lifted her eyes. “You're saying you killed me?” Kael didn't answer. “Because that's what you just said.” “I know what I said.” “Then explain it.” His gaze remained fixed on the photograph. “I can't.” A bitter laugh escaped her. “That's convenient.” “Elara—” “No.” She stepped backward. “Don't say my name like you know me.” Something flickered across his face. Pain. Then it disappeared. “I don't know you.” “Yet you knew my name.” “Yes.” “You knew I was supposed to be dead.” “Yes.” “And now you're standing in my house telling me you killed a woman who looks exactly like me more than a hundred years ago.” Kael's jaw tightened. “Yes.” Elara stared at him. “Do you hear yourself?” “Yes.” “Then why aren't you afraid?” “I am.” That answer stopped her. Kael looked genuinely shaken. Not by her. By the photograph. He reached toward it. Elara immediately pulled it against her chest. “Don't.” His hand dropped. “I wasn't going to take it.” “You're not touching anything.” “Fair enough.” Silence settled between them. Outside, wind pushed against the windows. Somewhere far away, wolves were howling. Elara's mind raced. The stranger's words returned. Ask your mother. Her mother was dead. Or at least, everyone had told her she was. For eleven years, Elara had believed that. Now, within a single night, two strangers had managed to make her question the one thing she had always considered certain. She looked at Kael. “Tell me everything.” His expression hardened. “I don't know everything.” “Then tell me what you know.” “I know that photograph shouldn't exist.” “Why?” “Because the woman in it died.” Elara's fingers tightened around the picture. “When?” Kael looked at the date. “October seventeenth, 1923.” Her stomach dropped. “You know the date?” “I've seen the photograph before.” “Where?” He hesitated. “In my father's records.” “Your father knew her?” “He knew about her.” “That isn't what I asked.” Kael looked away. Elara stepped closer. “Did my mother know your father?” “I don't know.” “You're lying.” His eyes snapped back to hers. “I don't lie.” “Everyone lies.” Something about those words seemed to affect him. His expression softened for the briefest moment. Then he said, “Your mother came to the pack twelve years ago.” Elara froze. “My mother?” “Yes.” “What did she want?” “I don't know.” “Where did she go?” “I don't know.” “You're an Alpha.” “That doesn't mean I know everything that happens in my territory.” “You're avoiding the question.” “Yes.” “Why?” “Because I don't know whether telling you will put you in danger.” Elara stared at him. “I've already been in danger.” Kael said nothing. “I watched half the pack collapse tonight. I saw things that couldn't have happened. A stranger appeared out of nowhere and told me my dead mother was erased. Then I found a photograph of myself from 103 years ago.” She held the photograph between them. “And now you're telling me you killed the woman in it.” Her voice cracked. “What exactly am I supposed to be afraid of?” Kael looked at her for a long moment. Then he said quietly: “Your memories.” Elara frowned. “What?” “Your memories are changing.” “No.” “I saw it.” “You saw what?” “When I touched you.” The room seemed to grow colder. Kael continued. “I saw a forest.” Elara's breath caught. “A castle.” She said nothing. “A woman wearing a silver crown.” Elara's heart began pounding. “A lake.” Her eyes widened. “And you.” Kael swallowed. “You were crying.” Elara couldn't move. Those were the same images she'd seen. “How?” “I don't know.” “You saw them too?” “Yes.” “And the boy?” Kael's expression changed. “What boy?” Elara immediately regretted asking. He stepped closer. “What boy?” “Nothing.” “You saw someone.” “No.” “Elara.” She shook her head. “I don't know what I saw.” That wasn't entirely true. She remembered the lake. The boy. The voice. The promise. But she had never seen his face. She had always assumed it was a childhood dream. Now she wasn't sure. Kael studied her. Then he asked, “What did he say?” Elara hesitated. “He said…” Her throat tightened. “He said I promised not to forget him.” Kael went completely still. For the first time since he'd entered the house, Elara saw something close to terror in his eyes. “What?” “You heard me.” “Say it again.” “I won't.” “Elara.” “Why?” Kael looked away. “Because I heard the same thing.” Neither spoke. The realization settled between them. Whatever had happened in the past, they had both been connected to it. And neither of them could remember the whole story. A loud knock suddenly struck the front door. Elara jumped. Kael immediately turned toward it. Three more knocks followed. Slow. Deliberate. Kael moved in front of Elara. “Stay behind me.” “Who is it?” “I don't know.” The knock came again. Kael reached for the door. “Elara,” he said without looking at her, “if I tell you to run, you run.” “I'm not leaving my own house.” “You might have to.” He opened the door. Nobody stood outside. Only darkness. Kael stepped onto the porch. Elara remained behind him. Then something landed at her feet. A small object wrapped in black cloth. She looked down. Kael turned. “Don't touch it.” Too late. Elara picked it up. The cloth fell away. A silver pendant lay in her palm. A crescent moon. The same symbol carved into the stone circle. The same symbol she had seen in her mother's jewelry box as a child. Her heart raced. There was writing engraved on the back. Three words. REMEMBER THE FIRST LIFE. Kael stared at it. “Where did you get that?” “It was outside.” “No.” His voice changed. “That pendant belonged to her.” “To who?” He didn't answer. “Elara.” “What?” “Put it down.” She looked at him. “Why?” “Because if that is what I think it is…” He stopped. “What?” Kael's eyes moved from the pendant to the photograph. Then back to her. “It means someone knows you're awake.” A chill passed through her. “Someone?” Kael stepped inside and shut the door. “Someone who has been waiting for you.” “For how long?” He didn't answer. “Elara…” “What?” “Look at the date on the photograph again.” She did. October 17, 1923. Then she noticed something she hadn't seen before. A second line of writing had been scratched beneath the date. She brought the photograph closer to the lamp. Her breath caught. There was a sentence. Almost completely faded. But still readable. SHE WILL RETURN WHEN THE MOON FORGETS. Elara stared at it. The Blood Moon. The memories. The photograph. The pendant. The woman who looked exactly like her. Everything was connected. But there was one question she couldn't stop herself from asking. She looked at Kael. “If that's me…” He waited. “Who was the man standing beside me?” Kael didn't move. Elara looked at the photograph again. The man's face was partially hidden by shadow. But now that she knew where to look, she could see his eyes. Golden. Just like Kael's. Her fingers began to shake. “That's you.” Kael said nothing. “You're the man in the photograph.” “I know.” “And you said you killed her.” “Yes.” “Why?” His silence stretched. Then Kael finally spoke. “Because she asked me to.” Elara's heart stopped. “What?” “She asked me to kill her.” “Why would I ask you to kill me?” Kael looked directly into her eyes. “Because you knew what was coming.” “What was coming?” His expression darkened. “The forgetting.” A cold wind rattled the windows. Then every candle in the house went out. Darkness swallowed the room. Elara heard Kael draw a sharp breath. “Don't move.” “I can't see anything.” “Stay where you are.” Something moved upstairs. A floorboard creaked. Then another. Someone was walking slowly across the ceiling above them. Elara's heart hammered. “Kael…” “I heard it.” The footsteps stopped. Silence. Then came a whisper from upstairs. Soft. Almost playful. “Elara…” She froze. Kael looked at her. The voice came again. “You remembered the photograph.” Another floorboard creaked. “Now remember who you were.” And from the darkness above them came a woman's laughter. A woman's voice Elara hadn't heard since she was nine years old. Her mother's voice. “My little moon.”
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