Chapter 2
One month.
Thirty-one whole days, and I'd barely slept a wink. Search and rescue teams, private detectives, border patrols, satellite surveillance—I'd mobilized every resource the Ashford family could call upon, even hired mercenary teams from the Canadian side. But aside from that wrecked SUV and pools of blood, we'd found nothing.
Official search and rescue had called it off two weeks ago. They'd politely told me: "Miss Ashford, we deeply regret to inform you that based on the scene conditions, the likelihood of Mr. Blackwood's survival..."
I'd thrown that search team leader out on the spot.
Now sitting in my office, I stared at the mountain of documents on my desk, but my mind was completely blank. Rachel had taken over most of the daily operations, but her worried glances only made me more irritated.
The mate bond remained severed. That emptiness felt like a chunk had been carved out of my chest, each breath reminding me that Kieran might really be...
My phone suddenly rang, the shrill tone making me jump.
"Miss Ashford," came an excited voice from the other end, "we found him! Kieran Blackwood is alive!"
The world stopped in that instant.
"What?" My voice shook terribly. "What did you say?"
"Seattle General Hospital, VIP ward. He's badly injured, but alive. A National Park ranger found him."
I didn't even hang up before rushing out of my office, sprinting all the way to the parking lot. My hands shook so badly while driving that I nearly crashed into three cars, but I didn't care.
He was alive. Kieran was alive.
But why was the mate bond still broken?
Two hours earlier.
Morning mist shrouded Forest Creek Trail in Olympic National Park as ranger Aria was conducting her routine patrol. She loved these quiet moments, with only birdsong and flowing water for company.
When she saw that figure by the stream, she almost thought she was dreaming.
A man lay collapsed by the creek, clothes torn and tattered, covered in wounds. But even in this wretched state, his features were breathtakingly perfect. His amber eyes were closed, his gaunt face pale as paper.
Aria recognized him immediately.
This was the missing Blackwood Group CEO, the man the entire state had been searching for.
"My God..." she stammered into her radio, "This is Ranger Aria, I've found a severely injured male at Forest Creek Trail, need immediate medical evacuation."
The moment I burst into the room, I saw him.
Kieran.
It really was him. That face I'd longed for day and night, those amber eyes, that man I'd willingly give up everything for.
"Kieran!" I practically lunged toward him, wanting to embrace him, to confirm he was truly alive.
But he pulled back.
Instinctively, obviously, guardedly pulled back.
"Who are you?" His voice was cold, completely lacking the warmth I remembered.
I froze there, hand suspended in mid-air, feeling like I'd been struck by lightning. "Kieran, it's me, Selena. We... we're getting married, don't you remember?"
He frowned at me, no recognition in his eyes whatsoever. Then he turned to the strange girl sitting by his bed.
"She saved me," he said, "I only trust her."
That girl—I now noticed she wore a National Park uniform—blushed and looked down. "I'm Aria. I found Kieran at Forest Creek Trail."
"Traumatic amnesia is common," Dr. Stevens explained, "considering his missing time and condition when found, temporary memory loss is understandable. But this is usually recoverable, requiring time and patience."
I felt dizzy. Not just because he didn't recognize me, but because of that strange feeling. My lunar sensing was frantically warning me that something was wrong with the man before me.
His scent was off.
Not that his appearance was problematic—he looked exactly like Kieran, every detail perfect. But that subtle werewolf aura, that unique scent I'd known since childhood that belonged to Kieran, seemed to have changed minutely.
More importantly, the mate bond remained severed.
If he really was Kieran, if he was alive, then the bond should have reconnected. But all I felt now was emptiness, as if facing a complete stranger.
"Kieran," I tried again, my voice trembling, "I know you might not remember, but we have a mate bond. We've been together since childhood..."
"Sorry," he interrupted me, his tone polite but cold, "I don't remember anything. This lady said she saved me, I only trust her."
His way of speaking... was also wrong. Kieran would never interrupt me like that; he'd patiently listen to me finish, even during arguments.
'What the hell is going on?' I asked myself.
"Amnesia patients often develop special dependency on their rescuers," the doctor explained, "this is a normal psychological response. Mr. Blackwood needs time to recover, as well as familiar environments and care."
I nodded, trying to stay calm. Maybe the doctor was right, maybe he really just had amnesia. But why was my lunar sensing still warning me? Why was the mate bond still broken?
"I understand," I finally said, though my heart was breaking, "I can wait. However long it takes, I'll wait."
But when I looked at that girl named Aria, seeing the flush on her face and the shyness in her eyes, an ominous feeling washed over me.
"Kieran"—if he really was Kieran—was looking at her tenderly, just like he used to look at me.
No, even more tenderly than that.
"I really can't thank you enough," he said to Aria, "if it weren't for you, I might have..."
"Don't say that," Aria smiled shyly, "anyone would have done the same in that situation."
I stood in that hospital room watching this scene, feeling like an outsider. A month ago, I was the woman Kieran loved most, his fiancée, the woman he'd give up everything for.
Now, I'd become a stranger.
And that ranger who saved him had become the only light in his eyes.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to maintain the dignity befitting an Ashford family heir. "I'll arrange the best doctors and care to ensure you get the finest treatment."
"Thank you," he said politely, "but I think the current arrangements are fine. Miss Aria will take care of me."
'Miss Aria will take care of me.'
Those words stabbed into my heart like a dagger.
I turned and left the room, standing in the hallway for a long time. Through the room's glass window, I watched "Kieran" and that girl talking softly, his expression gentler than I'd ever seen.
And I, his fiancée, his mate, was now treated like a stranger.
