9
1103 Words
Kaelis’ Pov
Orin.
I couldn’t stop thinking about him, about the way he avoided me after everything. How could someone I barely knew leave such a mark on me?
It wasn’t love— it couldn’t be love besides I’d only met him, yet my chest tightened at the memory of him, the way he looked at me, the way the way his presence seemed to fill the air.
No!
Stop!
I clenched my fists and ground my teeth together. My teeth ground together so hard I thought I might break them.
I pressed the needle in a little too deep and the patient hissed.
“Sorry,” I murmured, my hands steady, but my mind was in a frenzy.
The Moon Goddess won’t be so cruel to have bound me with someone like him. My mate?
I could barely imagine it. Everyone dreamed of being chosen by their mate, of finally having someone who would accept them, but if this was what being mated was like… maybe loneliness was easier.
How could he pretend nothing happened… Or almost happened?
How could he act like we were strangers when the memory of his lips on mine… or the thought of it still burned in my chest?
I exhaled slowly, trying to push it down. If he was going to deny everything we shared and keep ignoring me then I would do the same too. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of thinking I needed him.
I would focus on myself, focus on my work, focus on getting my memories back. I would not let him get under my skin again.
I moved between the beds, attending to the injured, cleaning wounds, checking vitals, noting what medicines and remedies each patient needed.
My hands moved with great precision but my mind kept returning to him.
I stripped off my gloves and walked to the sink, scrubbing my hands like I could wash the thought of him out of my skin as the warm water ran over my fingers, but it didn’t touch the ache in my chest.
The door creaked open and Myra had slipped in, her usual half smile on her face. “Another late night?” she asked, leaning against the counter.
Over the days that I had lived here we’d gotten really close— actually, she was the only friend I had and I had come to trust her.
I dried my hands on a towel, not looking at her. “Your pack needs more healers.”
Her gaze shifted to the ward, scanning every patient, every movement then back to me. She could always see more than she should and in the few times we had spent together, she could already read me like a book.
“You look distracted,” she said softly, but it wasn’t a question. It was an observation, one that made my chest tighten again.
“I’m fine,” I snapped too quickly as my voice was sharper than I intended.
She raised an eyebrow as her eyes wandered down my arms, taking in the fine lines of my muscles, the small cuts, and the faint bruises still fading. She lifted my hands, inspecting them briefly.
“Your scars… you’re healing fast. Way too fast.” Her voice sounded calm, but there was a wary and judgey tone under it, like she was trying not to push too far too soon.
I froze, and slowly looked down on the cut in my forearm that had healed faster than it should have.
I turned my face toward her, forcing a neutral expression. “Some people just heal fast, right?”
“Mm.” Myra tilted her head, studying me. “Some people also show up out of nowhere with no memories and scars they can’t explain.” She scoffed. “Tell me how often that happens…”
Her words pressed against my chest, a weight I couldn’t push aside making me bite the inside of my cheek and looked away. My jaw felt tight, my pulse racing and my stomach twisting.
“What are you trying to say?” I asked, my voice low, sounding more controlled than I felt.
She shook her shoulders but her eyes were sharp. “I’m saying maybe you should start asking the right questions. You want your memories back, right?”
My pulse jumped. “What do you know about that?”
“Nothing,” she said, but the corner of her mouth twitched like she was lying. “I just know that answers don’t come to people who wait around.”
I stared at her, my heart beating too fast. She had always known things she shouldn’t. She’d been the one to tell me about the whole mystic world, about the trials, about where I supposedly came from — though her details were always vague, like she was feeding me crumbs… always half truths.
And now… now she was hinting again.
I stepped closer. “If you know something, tell me.”
She looked down at my hands, still wet from the sink, then back to my face. “Be careful what you ask for, Kaelis. Memories can be just as dangerous as losing them.”
A cold shiver ran down my spine and my palms that were dried were suddenly sweaty and my lungs felt really heavy.
“Why?” I whispered.
She smiled then, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Because once you remember who you really are, you can’t go back to being who you were pretending to be.”
I felt my stomach drop and my hands curled into fists at my sides.
Who I really am… what does she know that I don’t?
I opened my mouth, wanting to demand more, but before I could, the clinic door slammed open with a deafening crash, making me jump back. My heart slammed against my ribs and my hands instinctively clutching at my apron.
Both of us spun toward the sound.
Orin stood there, his chest heaving, his jacket stained with blood and in his arms, an injured man hung limp, unconscious, bleeding badly.
My breath caught in my throat and my hands froze halfway to the supply shelf.
And then— our eyes met.
It was as if the world around me disappeared and his gaze burned straight into me.
I could feel every beat of my heart and my hands were shaking.
“This isn’t real,” I mumbled.
But I could not look away.
He was here.
He really was here.
Right in front of me.
And I couldn’t move.
I just stared.
- Writer
