Chapter 75 – The Edge of Remembering
Giselle stood in front of Rowan, her hands trembling at her sides, heart pounding against her ribs like it might burst free. Every part of her screamed to reach out and touch him—to place her hand on his chest where she knew his heart still beat for her.
But he didn’t see her.
Not fully.
His eyes were locked on hers, but confusion swirled in their depths. His brow furrowed slightly, a small twitch of pain pulling at the corners of his mouth. She could see the way his jaw clenched as if fighting some invisible force. His breathing came faster, heavier, his hands twitching at his sides.
And still, he stared.
Memories danced behind his gaze—she could see the flickers of something: a flash of her smile, the sound of her laughter, the warmth of her touch—but they slipped away before they could take root. She watched the storm rage inside of him, fighting against whatever had its claws in his mind.
“Rowan,” she whispered, voice trembling. “Please. It’s me.”
A flicker. A second of recognition in the curve of his brow.
Then—interrupted.
“Enough of this.” Rhea’s voice sliced through the moment like ice, sharp and accusing. She stepped closer to Rowan, placing a hand possessively on his arm. “She’s done enough damage. Just send her away. Now. Before she does something else reckless.”
Rowan blinked, as if her voice pulled him from a trance. But he didn’t move. His arm didn’t lift. His hand didn’t point toward the guards.
He said nothing.
Rhea’s expression faltered.
From the crowd, murmurs stirred again—low and uncertain.
Then the Elders stepped forward onto the stage, their movements rigid with purpose. The air seemed to thicken with their presence.
Elder Malric took the lead, his eyes like steel as they landed on Giselle.
“Well, this explains the chaos,” he sneered, addressing Rowan. “You allow a rogue to stroll into our most sacred ceremony?”
Rowan didn’t respond immediately, his gaze still bouncing between Giselle and the space inside his own thoughts.
“She’s not just a rogue,” Charlie called from below the stage, her voice fierce. “She’s—”
“She’s nothing but a threat,” Elder Malric cut her off, his voice booming. “She’s one of them. Part of the same filth that tried to infiltrate our borders, tried to tear apart everything we’ve built.”
“That’s a lie!” Giselle snapped, taking a step forward. “I was *taken*! Tortured! Your precious allies did this to me!”
“Do you hear the venom she speaks with?” Elder Malric turned to Rowan, ignoring her entirely. “This is the kind of wolf you’d risk your pack for? You have a Luna beside you, a future—all of it wasted on someone who doesn’t belong.”
“She *does* belong,” Charlie shouted, trying again. “You all know what she means to him!”
“You are not pack anymore,” Elder Malric growled, stepping toward the edge of the stage to look her in the eye. “Your voice has no weight here. Not after you disappeared and returned with outsiders—mates who would poison us with their loyalties.”
Luther’s body tensed beside Charlie, his hands balling into fists at his sides. His voice was low, deadly. “Careful how you speak to her.”
Elder Malric scoffed, but a hint of caution entered his expression.
Meanwhile, Rowan stood silent at the center of it all, his face tight with pain. He looked at Giselle again, eyes darting between hers, her mark, and the curve of her jaw—like some part of him *knew*. Like it was *right there*, brushing the surface.
But it wasn’t enough.
Not yet.
Giselle swallowed hard, feeling the tears prick at the corners of her eyes but refusing to let them fall.
She had made it this far. She wouldn’t leave without trying everything.
And she wasn’t going to lose him.
Not to them. Not to lies.
Not to whatever darkness had stolen her mate from her.
‘You must do it now.’ Aeris’s voice rang with urgency through Giselle’s mind, no longer weak, no longer lost in fog. Her wolf was wide awake, her presence blazing like wildfire behind her eyes.
‘He’s slipping too far. Mark him, Giselle. Anchor him. Or we lose him forever.’
Giselle’s breath caught in her throat as her eyes flicked to Rowan. He stood frozen amidst the arguing voices, confusion still clouding his face like a man caught between two worlds. The mark on his neck—the one that should have been hers—remained untouched. Her own throbbed against her skin, angry and hot.
Aeris whispered again, softer this time. ‘Trust me. Trust *us*.’
Giselle swallowed hard. Her hands curled at her sides. She stared at the man she loved, the mate who no longer knew her—and chose.
She chose *him*.
With one last look at his face, she gathered every shred of strength left in her battered body.
And she leapt.
Gasps rang out around her as she launched forward, catching Rowan off guard and slamming him to the wooden stage with the weight of her entire body. The force of the fall drove the air from both of their lungs, but she didn’t give him time to react. Her fingers gripped his shoulders, holding him down just long enough—
—until her canines extended and she plunged her teeth deep into the crook of his neck.
The moment her fangs pierced his skin, a surge of power slammed into her. His blood hit her tongue—rich, wild, *his*—and the bond ignited. She didn’t stop, not even when bone crunched beneath the pressure of her bite. Her eyes squeezed shut, her whole body trembling from the overwhelming storm of memories, pain, love—*him*—pouring into her.
Every part of her screamed *mine.*
Then—
Roaring.
Movement.
Screams.
Her ears caught the chaos unfurling around her. Guards bellowing orders. Allies—Charlie, Beta Kalen, Luther—trying to keep them at bay. But it was too late.
Rowan’s hands clamped down on the back of her neck like steel.
With a savage yank, he tore her off of him, his strength unrelenting.
“No—” she choked out, her mouth wet with his blood.
He didn’t hear her.
Didn’t *see* her.
With a snarl, he shoved her violently off him. Her body flew across the stage, weightless for a breathless moment before pain shattered through her as she landed hard on the ballroom floor below.
The edge of the stage splintered her back open. Her knees scraped against the polished floor. The healing she’d fought so hard for now began to unravel, her wounds reopening in angry bursts. She gasped, her limbs shaking as she tried to rise, but everything burned.
All around her, guards closed in.
She barely registered the sound of Charlie screaming her name, of Beta Kalen barking orders.
Only one sound mattered.
Rowan’s snarl, ringing in her ears.
The same man who once held her like she was everything—was now the one tearing her world apart.
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