Chapter 5 Chapter five
Chapter Five
A NEW BEGINNING OR A CRUEL TWIST?
~Ignas Pov
...The Skull Pack
Going back home was bittersweet. The pack had welcomed us back with cheers and relief, their faith in me unshaken despite the questions I knew lingered in their minds. They trusted me, and I wouldn't betray that trust. Still, while life resumed for everyone else, I felt like I was trapped in some sort of limbo from which I couldn't escape.
Lykon had become invisible, lying still in the healer's quarters, unconscious for a week and more. A reassuring presence, a bondage-the only thing that kept me tied to emotions so unnamed. I threw myself into my duties, commanding the rebuilding of the pack defenses and the assurance of security on the newly claimed lands. Every evening, however, I was irresistibly returning to his neighborhood, to catch the chance glimpse of one, or to stand wrapt by guilty and uncertain musings.
Days turned into weeks, and yet Lykon didn't wake. I fell into a routine, during the days attending to my duties, and by evening caring for him. The healers came and went, but it was always me who cleaned him, massaged his muscles against stiffening, and whispered words of encouragement that I wasn't even sure he could hear.
One evening, sitting by his cot, massaging his feet gently, I felt his toes quiver beneath my fingers.
I froze.
"Lykon?" I whispered, leaning closer.
A low groan escaped his lips-faint but unmistakable. My heart leaped into my throat as I shot to my feet.
"Roy!" I shouted, my voice echoing down the corridor of the healer's wing.
He appeared moments later, his face a mix of concern and hope. "What happened?"
“He moved," I exclaimed. "He groaned. I think he's going to wake up."
Roy wasted no time. Kneeling beside Lykon, he moved his hands against bandages and vitals out of habit.
"He's got a stronger pulse," Roy muttered. He turned his gaze to me, with just the slightest pull upwards in his lips. "You might have been right."
My chest went tight inside its cage of relief and terror. "Is he ok?”
Roy hesitated before nodding. "He's stable, but we need to be careful. His body's been through hell, and we don't know what state his mind is in." The Awakening”
It happened the next morning. I'd hardly slept, my mind tangled by concern, when I heard a bustle outside the healer's quarters. I rushed inside to find Lykon sitting up in bed, his face pale but alert.
His cold, calculatingly intense eyes scanned the room, instilling a shiver in my bones. When finally they came to rest on me, something shifted. The hardness of his gaze softened, just a little, as if in recognition, though not quite with the clarity for which I had hoped.
"Lykon?" I ventured, taking one step closer.
He frowned, cocking his head as if testing the name. "Who's Lykon?"
The question was a gut punch. I exchanged a look with Roy, who stood in the corner, his face grim.
"Do you remember anything?" Roy asked softly, coming forward.
Lykon's eyes narrowed. "No," he said flatly. His tone was icier than I'd ever heard it, clipped and impatient. "I don't know who I am, or who any of you are. And I don't care."
His words sent a ripple of tension through the room, but Roy plunged onward. "You've been unconscious a long time. Your wounds were grave-"
"I am fine," Lykon cut in, arrogance dripping from his tone. "What I want to know is why you're all staring at me like I'm some lost pup.”
I screwed my fists up and struggled to keep my emotions hidden. He didn't remember. He didn't know who he was or where he came from or why he was here.
And then his gaze swung to me again, and there, in those eyes was that something keen, something certain.
"You," he said. Much softer now.
I was stuck, frozen, under the compelling glare of his eyes. "What about me?”
“You're my mate," he said, the conviction in his voice so absolute it stole the words from my mouth.
Roy choked on a laugh behind me, but I didn't even flinch.
"How do you know that?" I whispered.
An eyebrow arched on Lykon's face for all intent and purposes, the question was out of turn. "I don't have to remember my past to know what is before me. The bond is there as day."
The words lashed like a blow, ripples coursing through my system, my heart racing with incredulity torn by something I didn't want to name.
The room erupted into chaos. The other healers leaned and murmured among themselves, their confusion palpable. One of them finally spoke up. "If you don't remember anything, how can you be so sure she's your mate?"
Lykon turned to them, pure exasperation etched into his face. "Do I look like an idiot to you? The bond is obvious. I don't need your questions to tell me what I already know."
Roy doubled over, clutching at his stomach as he leaned against the wall. "I like him," he said between chuckles.
I shot him a glare but he only laughed harder.
"I'm not your mate," I said firmly, turning back to Lykon.
"Yes, you are," he said simply and didn't leave room for an argument.
"You have a home," I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "A pack. People who—
"Who?" he cut in, eyes fastening on mine. "Where are they?"
I stuttered. My throat is parched. I couldn't tell him the truth yet.
But when I didn't say a word, he just smiled. "Exactly. My home is here, with you."
The conviction in his voice, the way he was gazing at me as if I was his world, dumbfounded me.
"Lykon, you-
"I don't care what you think I should do," he said, falling back into the pillows with that damned smug grin still twisting his lips. "I know what I want. And I want to stay here. With you."
Roy laughed again, shaking his head. "Well, Ignis, looks like you're stuck with him."
I glared at Roy, but my heart was pounding. Lykon's words, his presence, the bond humming faintly between us-it was too much.
When finally everyone was gone, I sat beside him, staring at his face while he fell back to sleep. His features were sharp, godly, and beautiful in a way that felt almost unfair. My hand moved before I could stop it, brushing against his cheek.
His skin was warm under my fingers, and for a moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to let him stay and let myself feel what the bond demanded.
Then the guilt hit hard and unrelenting, and I yanked my hand back, ashamed of my weakness.
"What am I doing?" I whispered to myself, covering my face with my hands.
It hummed softly in my brain once more, reminding me of something I should keep away from.
I lifted one hand to my chest. With so much guilt and doubts that assaulted me, it pained inside, either because I was doing right by keeping him here or because I wasn't able to let go of him.
"Is this selfishness?" I whispered; the word seemed to hang suspended in the air, a palpable plea.
Then his voice shook me.
“You are being sneaky. You said you are not my mate, but look at you!”