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*Zac*
“Where the devil is she?" I growl.

Startled from her relaxing pose on the fainting couch, her bare feet in Leo’s lap where they’re receiving his devoted attention, my mother glares at me standing in the doorway. “Good evening to you as well. I daresay you look like hell.”

“Where is she?" I repeat, in no mood to suffer through her taunting.

She must realize it because she answers quickly, "The blue bedchamber.”

I rush up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time, the length of my stride torturing my leg, but I ignore it. When I arrive at the correct bedchamber, I throw open the door with such force that it bangs against the wall.

Calliope leaps up from the chair by the window where she’s been reading, the book falling to the floor with a soft thud. I can see her trembling in the white linen nightdress, her bare toes curling into the carpet. I see the moment she regains her composure and straightens her backbone. She won’t be cowed by me. I can’t see her being cowed by anyone.

I imagine some brute lifting her hem, spreading those sweet thighs.

“You lied to me about not lying to me.” I take a step closer, and she holds her ground. Brave, courageous Calliope. She had been there to help the soldiers, to ease their suffering. If the men who attacked her weren’t already dead, I’d tear them apart with my bare hands. I’ve never felt so barbaric. Is this what I’ve learned on the battlefield? “You told me I got there in time to stop them, in time to save you. I didn’t."

She goes as pale as snow and quivers as though she’s just been dunked in an icy river. Tears spill onto her cheeks. Reaching behind her, she grabs onto the back of the chair, needing something to support her. Any other she-wolf who looks on the verge of collapse would have succumbed to her body’s need. But not her. Somehow she finds the strength to continue standing, just as she’s found the strength to return to the hospital, to care for the men. Courageous Calliope. My Calliope.

“Tell me you don’t remember. Please, dear Goddess, tell me you don’t remember my shame and humiliation." She whispers.

“I don’t. Not a single second of what happened to you. But it was not your shame and humiliation, Calliope. It was theirs. For the Goddess sake, why didn’t you tell me?"

She shakes her head, “Why would I? For the love of all that is holy, why would I want you to remember such an ugly, ugly..."

Tears rain down her face. She sinks onto the chair and buries her face in her hands, her shoulders quaking with the force of her sobs. I want to touch her, to comfort her, but I’ve sacrificed that right. I had doubted her, and in so doing I had doubted all that is virtuous. I had hoped war had turned me into a better man, but it’s her, everything I know about her that calls to me to be a finer person than I’ve ever thought myself capable of being.

“If you hadn’t held me afterward, touched me so tenderly, comforted me, I’m not sure I would have ever been able to stand the touch of another person." She lifts dew-filled eyes. “Nothing happened beyond that. Between you and I. A little touching, gentle caresses. On my face and my hands. Here." She touches just below her collarbone. “Where the first one tore at my bodice and gouged me. You kissed it. You murmured such sweet words. We only had until dawn. But you never left my side. You had Mathers find us a room. You washed… so tenderly where the brutish man had been. I made a vow to myself that I would find a way to repay you for your kindness."

“Kindness? Calliope, any man would have come to your rescue." I tell her.

She shakes her head, “Only any man didn’t. You did. When Fancy told me she was carrying your child, and she had to leave, I went with her to ensure she was taken care of. When she told me that she didn’t want Zane, I could hardly believe it. I told her I would take him. Then we saw your name on the list of the dead. We argued over what to do. Zane was all that remained of you. One morning I awoke to discover Fancy was gone and Zane was still there. I knew I had to bring him to your family. It was all I ever intended. You must believe that."

My heart is shattering one word at a time. “I do, Calliope. You don’t have to say more."

“He was so like you. I fell in love with him a little bit more each day. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him. So I said I was his mother because I thought no one with any decency would separate a child from his mother. When I learned you were alive, I feared if I confessed to not being his mother, that you would find fault with me and not want your son around a woman who spouted lies. So I continued with the charade."

“It was no charade." I can’t stop myself. I cradle her cheek, cold and damp with her tears. “You are his mother. Can you ever forgive me for doubting you?"

She shakes her head.

“Calliope, Dear Goddess, Calliope, I will do anything you ask of me. I won’t search for the memories anymore. I won’t worry about the past. I’ll hoard every memory from this moment on. They’ll be enough if they include you." I beg her.

“I was wrong to deceive you." She says.

This time I shake my head, “You didn’t. You are Zane’s mother. I have no memory of our first night together, but I have no doubt, my dear, precious, courageous mate, that if I did remember it, I would discover that I had begun to fall in love with you that night."

Weeping, she falls into my lap. I hold her close, rocking her, whispering sweet words of forgiveness and love. There’s a familiarity to the moment that surprises me, as though I almost do remember holding her like this.

“Come home with me, Calliope. Come home to me and to Zane." I ask her.

Against my shoulder, she nods. Lifting her into my arms, I carry her from the room.

My mother is waiting expectantly at the bottom of the stairs. I’m not surprised. I’m astonished that she hasn’t been standing in the bedchamber doorway listening.

“Where are you going?" she asks.

I tighten my hold on Calliope. “To make memories."

*Calliope*
Everything seems so familiar, so welcoming as Zac escorts me into the residence. He held me close in the carriage, as though he was afraid that if he released me for even a second, I would disappear from his life forever. He kissed me and murmured how much he loves me, how he will ensure that I never regret being married to him.

He makes me feel special again, makes me glad for every step I’ve traveled along the path that has led me to him.

Upstairs we go to the nursery. After giving me a few minutes to hold Zane close, breathe in his fragrance, and then tuck him back into bed, Zac leads me to the bedchamber. He makes short work of removing my clothes and his. We tumble onto the bed.

With reverence, he trails his fingers over my body slowly, provocatively. I skim my hands up his arms, over his chest.

“Don’t think about it," I order softly.

He lifts his gaze to mine.

“That night. So long ago," I say.

“I can’t think about what I don’t remember." He mumbles.

But somehow he had learned about it, and although he doesn’t have the memory, he now has the knowledge. He brushes his lips over my throat.

“I love you, Calliope," he whispers. “It almost killed me to send you away."

“Then why did you?" I ask.

“Stubborn pride. But more than that." He threads his fingers through my hair, his palm cupping my cheek. “From the moment I woke up in that damned hospital, I’ve felt lost. Until you came into my life. You provided me with an anchor, and when I learned the truth, I felt as though I was once again floundering. It’s not an excuse for my behavior. But rather an explanation for it."

I look at him, “And now."

“I feel as though I’ve finally come home." He takes my mouth gently, but with an urgency that speaks of desire loosely leashed. He will release it soon, and we’ll become lost in the heat and the passion, the familiarity of each other.

His touch is different this time. Or perhaps it’s only the way I perceive it. No secrets lie between us. Whatever memories are lost to him don’t matter. The two of us exist now, within this moment. Just as he said as he carried me out of his mother’s residence, we will make new memories. I will give him so many that he’ll never remember them all. Thousands upon thousands until neither of us thinks about the past two years, until neither of us ever again speaks of Scutari. Or dreams of it.

We take our time, caressing and stroking, as though each of us wants to memorize every detail of the other, reaffirm the familiar, make note of the newly discovered. It always amazes me that somehow I always learn something new about him. A scar that had been overlooked, a spot on his side that is ticklish, an area that is more sensitive. We will have years of this. Learning, savoring, cherishing.

But I don’t want to think about the future. I want to concentrate on this single moment, the beauty of it as he joins his body to mine.

“Home,” he whispers near my ear. “With you, I’m always home."

He begins to rock against me, slowly at first and then more quickly. My body reacts swiftly and strongly to the rhythm. We touch, we kiss. His mouth latches onto the peak of my breast, and he suckles. Pleasure tears through me in undulating waves, carrying me higher and higher...

To heights never before reached.

“Oh, Dear Goddess," I moan, pressing him closer, digging my fingers into his shoulders.

“I love you, Calliope," he rasps, his breath harsh, labored.

Opening my eyes, I hold his gaze and see the truth of his words. Not that I’ve doubted, but here is more evidence, the love he feels for me reflected so clearly in the blue of his gaze.

“I love you, Zac. I have for so long," I mumble.

“Love me longer."

I smile, “I'll love you into eternity."

“You're the only one, the only one I’ve ever loved."

Groaning low, he dips his head and presses a kiss to the tiny scar on my collarbone that remains from that long ago night. If it hadn’t already healed, I think the press of his lips might have had the power to heal it. It feels as though everywhere he touches, I feel renewed. Tonight is a cleansing, a ridding of lies, deceit, and mistrust. I’ve always thought that when we were together we were as one. Only now do I realize that a thin barrier has existed between us, placed there by my fears of discovery. But now he knows the truth, all of it, and here he is. Whispering words that touch me deeply. Taking possession of me with a fierceness that claims me as his and announces he is mine.

Raising himself above me, he slides into me, glides out, his movements deliberate, with purpose, lifting my awareness, spiking my pleasure until it climbs.

“Oh, my dear Goddess!” I arch back, then curl around him, holding him near, pressing against him as his rhythm quickens.

He cries out my name as his body jerks and spasms. He never loosens his hold on my gaze. Triumph washes over his face, but it isn’t that of a victor. Rather, it is that of a man who has conquered himself. As he lowers himself and buries his face in the curve of my throat, I circle my arms and legs around him, holding him tightly and dearly.

For the first time since I’ve left Scutari, I feel as though I, too, have finally come home.