Forget Me Not

Lucian sat hunched over in his chair, his head resting in his hands, desperately trying to figure out what in the world he was going to say to Visenya when she woke up. For the first time in his life, he was terrified to face her. He had spent the last several months having complete dominion over her, confident that she would never leave because he would never allow it.

But now, everything had changed. There was a real possibility that she could walk out of his life and never look back, and he couldn't blame her if she did. The weight of guilt pressed upon him, growing heavier with each passing hour. He had spent hours on the lavatory floor, holding Visenya close, reluctant to let her go, fearing it would be the last time he ever held her in his arms.

With a heavy heart, he cleaned her up, dressed her in suitable nightwear, and removed the revolting collar from her neck. As he gently laid her down in his bed, he realized that there were no words that could ever atone for what he had done. But he was determined to make amends, even if it meant facing the consequences of losing the one person who had mattered the most to him.

His first order of business was to free all the individuals in his castle who were still enslaved to him. Some of them wasted no time in seizing their newfound freedom, Cylis included. The others had made plans to leave at sunrise. Emi hesitated to go, reluctant to leave Visenya's side. Alongside Grace and Daphne, she stayed behind, determined to convince Lucian to allow them to clean up the mess in Visenya's room.

Emi dreaded the thought of Visenya waking up to such a scene, fearing it would only bring back the memories of that dreadful night. Lucian, on the other hand, seemed unaffected, believing that Visenya would never set foot in that room again. Despite his indifference, he eventually granted Emi's request, with the condition that she and the others would leave as soon as they were finished.

He didn't know what state of mind Visenya would be in when she woke, and he didn't want her to hurt anyone. The last time the unification ritual was performed on a deceased mate, she nearly set the world ablaze. He had to be prepared for any potential aggression, recognizing that although Visenya wasn't a dragon, her wolf form was still incredibly lethal.

He had stayed up all night watching her intently, his mind too worked up in an anxious frenzy to even consider sleep. Finally, morning arrived, and the knock on the door disrupted his self-inflicted psychological torment. With a heavy sigh, he opened the door, revealing Grace on the other side, her face filled with sympathy.

"What is it?" He asked, his voice weary and strained.

Grace hesitated, her words stumbling out. "There's something... something you need to see."

Lucian glanced back at Visenya, clearly not wanting to leave her there alone.

"I can stay with her," Grace offered, sensing his hesitation.

But Lucian knew that keeping Visenya isolated would be best for the sake of everyone else. "She'll be fine," he assured her, before stepping out of the room and gently closing the door behind him.

He reluctantly followed Grace back to the very room he had vowed never to return to. And there, standing before him, was Emi, anxiously awaiting his arrival, clutching a small basket in her hands. Her despondent gaze seemed to convey both pity and sorrow, evoking painful memories from his past. Memories of a time when he had been looked at with the same sorrowful eyes, when his mother had passed away.

"I'm so sorry," she expressed glumly, her arms outstretched, offering him what appeared to be an insignificant object.

It felt as if she were presenting him with a ticking bomb, ready to detonate at any moment. But as he peered more closely into the basket, he realized the true weight of what she had given him.

"Where did you..." he struggled to speak, his words caught in a lump in his throat.

"In there," Emi pointed to the lavatory, her voice equally strained. "Tucked away on the bottom shelf... just like that."

His eyes fell upon the sleeping angel, nestled in the basket, and a wave of anguish washed over him. He was confronted with the harsh reality that he would never be able to wake her from this slumber. This was his child, his own flesh and blood, his precious baby girl. And, judging by the particular birthmarks adorning her delicate skin, she was no ordinary girl... she was one of a kind.

The way Visenya had tenderly wrapped their child up snugly and tucked her away in a safe spot was not something a heartless woman would ever do. He just knew that she blamed herself for this and was unable to live with the guilt. It wasn’t her fault; he wanted to reassure her of that. If anything, this was all his doing. How could a child thrive in the hostile environment that he had created between them?

"You can go now," he said solemnly. "All of you... you're free."

The women exchanged glances, their reluctance to leave evident. "We wish to stay," Grace proposed softly.

"I told you to leave... now," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The three of them turned towards the door, against their better judgments, and left him all alone in that room. However, they didn't get very far, lingering at the bottom of the steps for a good hour or so.

"We need to leave," Daphne suggested, her voice filled with urgency. "Hanging around will only anger him."

"I agree with Daphne," Grace concurred. "If we leave now, we can make it to the Lycan Kingdom by sundown."

Emi scoffed, her voice laced with disbelief. "Are you listening to yourselves? Do you not hear that man up there? He's been sobbing like a wounded child for the past hour. He's completely losing it, and you want to just leave? What about Visenya? Who is going to be there for her when she wakes up? Certainly not him—he can barely pull himself together. If you want to leave, fine, leave, but I'm not going anywhere."

They both hung their heads in shame, knowing very well that Emi was right. "Well, what do we do then?" Grace asked, uncertainty evident in her tone.

Emi let out a heavy sigh, her face filled with sorrow. "We need to do the one thing that neither of them should have to do," she said, her voice filled with empathy.

Understanding her implication, they huddled together and shared their ideas. After careful deliberation, they finalized the details among themselves. It was decided that Emi would be the one to approach the grieving Dragon.

When Emi returned to the room, Lucian was still huddled in the same corner, clutching his bundled baby close to his chest. His appearance was disheveled, his eyes swollen and red from countless tears.

"Why are you still here?" He grumbled, his voice filled with anguish.

"Please, My Lord, we only want to help," Emi vowed earnestly. "Grace found a small wooden box in the south tower. She painted it a beautiful white, and it looks truly lovely. Daphne found a serene spot by the lake, adorned with the most exquisite flowers... lilies, in fact. Visenya loves lilies."

"She does?" He whimpered, his voice a trembling whisper.

"Yes, they are her favorite," Emi replied gently. "I believe it would bring Visenya great comfort if we laid your daughter to rest next to her beloved flowers."

"Okay…" he nodded agreeably, taking one last look at his lost child before reluctantly handing her over to Emi.

Emi gently received the baby and silently made her way towards the door, stealing a glance over her shoulder before quietly exiting the room. Meanwhile, Lucian remained sprawled out on the cold, unforgiving floor, still tormented by the tragic series of events that had unfolded.

As he lay there, he couldn't help but be reminded of the countless nights he had forced his own mate to sleep on that very same stone floor, night after night, without mercy. The memories of his cruelty haunted him, and he couldn't forget the times he had starved both his mate and his child, depriving them of sustenance for days, even weeks at a time.

Overwhelmed by shame, he placed a trembling hand over his heart, burdened by the weight of his own actions. If there was a way to end his own pathetic existence, he would have taken it without hesitation. He now believed that he should have perished alongside the rest of the dragons, for it would have been better for everyone, especially her.

Exhaustion finally overcame him, and though he felt undeserving of the solace that sleep would bring, he could no longer resist its pull. He convinced himself that he would only rest his eyes for a few minutes, but those minutes stretched into hours.

Suddenly, he was startled awake by the commotion emanating from the floor above him, jolting him back to reality. The sound of frantic footsteps and doors slamming shut propelled him to his feet, urging him to dash out the room in mere seconds. With adrenaline coursing through his veins, he sprinted up the stairs, his heart pounding in his chest as he burst into his chambers, flinging the door open with such force that it threatened to tear off its hinges.

"Where is she?!" Panic gripped him as he scanned the room, realizing his bed was empty.

He rushed past the three women who stood in his way, the same women he had explicitly ordered to leave his premises but who had stubbornly refused to heed his command. He headed straight for the balcony, his mind racing with the thought that she might have shifted and escaped.

"Where the hell did she go?!" He shouted, his voice filled with desperation.

"She's in there…" Emi pointed towards the closed door of his lavatory.

"The washroom?" He exclaimed. "What is she doing in there?"

"She locked herself inside," Grace replied softly. "She's afraid of us."

“Afraid?” He echoed, his voice filled with confusion. “Why would she be afraid of you?”

“Because she doesn’t remember who we are,” Emi revealed, her voice trembling. “She doesn’t even remember who she is... She doesn’t remember anything.”

Of all the possible outcomes that Lucian had prepared himself for, this was certainly not one of them. He grasped the doorknob and gave it a slight turn, just to confirm that it was indeed locked.

He retrieved the keys from his desk and inserted the small silver one into the keyhole of the locked door. Slowly, he turned the knob and entered the washroom, his every movement cautious. Closing the door behind him, he ensured that it was just him and Visenya alone in that room. He found her crouched in the corner, seeking refuge behind the hamper.

“Visenya?” He called out gently, his voice a soothing melody in the tense air. But she only curled herself even further into a ball, desperately trying to remain hidden from this unfamiliar man who had sought her out.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he reassured her, his voice laced with empathy, as he gradually approached, his hands raised in surrender.

Kneeling down in front of her, he locked his gaze with her frightened, tearful eyes. “You don’t remember me?” He inquired, his voice filled with a mixture of hope and despair.

She stared at him blankly, her eyes fixed on him as she instinctively scooted herself back against the wall, hoping to seamlessly blend in with its surface. Wary of him, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. He, on the other hand, racked his brain, desperately trying to think of a way to gain her trust. And then, like a bolt of lightning, it hit him.

He unbuttoned the top of his shirt, allowing the marking on his chest to be exposed. "Do you see this?" He asked, his voice filled with anticipation, hoping that this would bridge the gap between them.

Her attention was immediately drawn to the peculiar pattern etched upon his chest, curiosity gleaming in her eyes like a flickering flame.

"You bear my mark," he continued, pointing towards her own chest, his voice filled with a sincere mix of warmth and fulfillment.

She peered down, her nightgown slipping slightly to reveal the marking just like his, etched along her flesh.

A mixture of surprise and wonder washed over her. "What does it mean?" She asked, her fingers tracing the impression, as if trying to uncover its hidden secrets.

"It means... we're mates... you and I," he answered, his voice resonating with a profound sense of connection that he could no longer deny.

"Mates?" She repeated, her brows furrowing in confusion, her mind trying to comprehend the weight of this revelation.

"Yes," he nodded, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Soulmates."

"Oh..." she beamed, wonder shining in her eyes, as she marveled at the idea of such a beautiful anomaly.

Her gaze darted back and forth between their markings, both of them noticing the subtle differences. For instance, hers was smaller, more delicately feminine. A bittersweet smile played on his lips, pleased by how perfectly it looked on her, yet saddened that he hadn't marked her sooner.

With a gentle touch, she pressed her hand against his marking, and a captivating spark surged through them. It was a rush so profound that it left them both breathless.

There were no words to capture the feeling it evoked, but it was as though it whisked them away to a place created exclusively for them. A place that exuded joy, paradise, completion, and an exhilarating sense of peace.

She instantly fell into his arms, her hand still resting on his marking, the marking that would forever link them together as one. She may have woken up in this scary place with no memories of who she was or how she got there, but with him, she felt safe... with him, it felt like home.

He held her tight, his fingers gently tangling in her soft, messy curls. "Do you hear a voice?" He asked, his voice filled with concern and genuine curiosity.

"Your voice?" She responded, her tone so melodic and sweet.

"No... in your head?" He elaborated, his words careful and gentle. "Do you hear a voice in your head?"

She looked up at him, her big, brown eyes searching for understanding. "Do you mean... my own voice? From my thoughts?"

He forced a small smile, not wanting to confuse her even further. "Never mind... it was a silly question."

She rested her head back against his chest, finding comfort in his steady heartbeat. He sensed the multitude of emotions swirling within her, and he ran his hand up and down her back soothingly until only serenity remained.

As she grew calmer with each passing minute, he became more and more conflicted. He tried to convince himself that maybe Delilah had gone silent or was still asleep, but deep down, he knew... he just knew that Visenya had returned wolf-less. Eventually, he would have to reveal the truth about everything to her, but not now… not now.