Chapter 36 Memories That Never Existed II
Sleep came to me like a thief. One moment, I was staring at the ceiling, and the next, the world turned absolutely blank, sleep stealing me away swiftly. My body gave in before my mind could.
It was strange—peaceful even. No dreams, no imagined whispers from Freya, no echoes of Luna Odessa's voice warning me about Alpha Dawn in my head. Just silence.
For the first time in a long while, I wasn't thinking. I wasn't hurting. I was simply… gone.
But then, warmth. Switfly yet so tenderly.
Something pressed against my back, firm and steady. A hand slipped around my waist, pulling me closer to a body that felt both unfamiliar and familiar at once.
My heart jolted. I froze.
The hand tightened slightly, steadying me in place. The heat of a breath brushed the back of my neck, slow and warm. His chest rose and fell behind me, in sync with my own.
For a second, I thought I was dreaming again.
Then his scent hit me—earthy pine and clean rain. It slid into me like it always does.
Alpha Dawn.
My body went still, but I didn't pull away. I couldn't. Something about the way he held me was grounding, protective in a way that made no sense.
The hand around my waist moved slightly, his thumb brushing my hip as though to reassure himself I was still there.
I swallowed hard. My pulse quickened. The tensiom air around us rose with something unfamiliar—something I couldn't name but could feel deep inside my me. Deep inside my chest.
Carefully, I turned in his hold until I was facing him.
He was half-asleep, or maybe pretending not to be. His lashes were dark against his skin, and his face—usually sharp and unreadable—looked softer now. Younger.
Without thinking, my hand lifted to his cheek. My fingers brushed over the faint stubble there, tracing the rough texture slowly. He stirred but didn't move away.
"Alpha," I whispered, barely audible.
His eyes opened slow. For a moment, neither of us said anything. We just stared at each other, his hand still at my waist, my palm on his cheek.
"Couldn't sleep," he murmured, his voice deep and husky from sleep.
"Neither could I," I admitted softly.
"Why did you leave when I asked you not to?" He whispered to me in the dark.
"I didn't want to continue the conversation."
"Were you scared?"
I hesitated. "Yes. I didn't want to admit all that I've bottled up in my heart."
"What are those?"
My gaze traced the features of his face. "You are absolutely breathtaking, Dawn." I blurted out.
A small, knowing smile tugged at his lips. "Then stop pretending to fight it. You're tired."
I swallowed, still tracing his jawline with my thumb. "You shouldn't be here."
"And yet," he said, his voice dropping lower, "here I am."
The way he said it made my stomach twist. His gaze roamed over my face.
I wanted to pull away. I really did. But the longer I looked at him, the more I couldn't move.
"You are tormenting me. You know that right?" I whispered.
He leaned forward until his forehead rested against mine. "Because I can't help it."
"Dawn—"
"Because I can't stop thinking about you." His voice deepened. "Because I hate when you're far from me. Because when I close my eyes, you're there, and when I open them, I still want you closer. Does that answer your question?"
My breath hitched. "You are too attached."
"Good." His thumb brushed over my lips. "Then you understand."
He said it like a confession. One that carried both danger and devotion.
"I don't know if that's love or madness," I whispered.
"Maybe both." His lips brushed against mine. "But whatever it is, it's real."
Before I could speak again, he kissed me.
It wasn't sudden—it was slow, deliberate, and deep. His lips moved against mine with quiet certainty, the kind that made my body melt before my mind could catch up.
The world around us faded. There was only his warmth, his breath, the low sound he made when he deepened the kiss.
My fingers curled around his shirt, pulling him closer until there was no space left between us. His hand grabbed on my throat possesively and my hand continued caressing his face.
The only thing heard in the room is the sound of wet lips on wet lips.
When he finally pulled away, we were both breathing hard.
His eyes burned into mine. "I told myself I'd give you space," he whispered. "But you make it impossible."
I blinked up at him, dazed. "You shouldn't say things like that."
"Why not?"
"Because you mean them."
He chuckled softly, but there was no humor in it. "Exactly."
We sat there in silence for a while, the morning light beginning to slip through the curtains. His hand still rested on my waist, his thumb tracing small circles absentmindedly.
Then, suddenly, he said, "I have something for you."
I frowned, sitting up slightly. "For me?"
He nodded and reached for something on the bedside table—a folded paper, neatly creased and sealed with his pack's insignia.
He took my hand and slipped it into my palm. "Open it."
Curiosity stirred inside me. I unfolded the paper slowly.
At first, I didn't understand what I was looking at. The letters scribbled before my eyes, and then I froze.
"University of Austen City," I read aloud. My voice trembled slightly. "Admission letter?"
He nodded once. "You've been accepted. You start next month."
"But, I didn't even apply."
"Don't worry about that. I pulled some strings."
My mouth fell open. "Wait—what? How—why would you—?"
His expression softened, but there was still that intensity beneath it. "You said you wanted to study on our first night together when I asked you in your druken state. You said it was a dream you've never spoken of or do not wish to speak on."
I looked at him, disbelief filling every corner of my chest. "You can't just—Dawn, this is—"
"I can," he interrupted quietly. "And I did."
My throat tightened. "You did this for me?"
"I did this because I want to give you the world," he said simply. "Because you deserve more than this pack, more than being labeled as some breeder or even my Luna. You deserve a life."
Tears stung my eyes, unbidden. "Why?" I asked softly. "Why are you doing this for someone like me?"
He reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His hand lingered there, fingers brushing my skin gently. "Because someone like you," he murmured, "is exactly what I never knew I needed."
My breath caught.
He leaned closer, his lips brushing my ear. "You make me human, Bambi. You make me remember I still have a heart."
I blinked fast, trying to stop the tears. "I don't know what to say."
"Then don't say anything." His thumb wiped away a stray tear. "Just promise me something."
"What?"
"Promise me you won't leave me again. Promise me you'll stay. Promise to be my Luna."
I hesitated, my heart thundering. "Dawn…"
"I mean it," he said, voice low and rough. "If you try to leave, I'll find you. You know I will."
His words should've scared me. But instead, they sent shivers down my spine.
He leaned in again, his lips brushing mine briefly. "You're mine, Bambi. Every thought, every heartbeat, every breath. You belong to me."
I swallowed hard, unable to look away. "And if I say no?"
He smiled faintly, though his eyes darkened. "Then I'll spend the rest of my life changing your mind."
There was something in the way he said it—possessive, but not cruel. It was as if he'd already decided I was part of him, whether I liked it or not.
I looked down at the letter again, my fingers trembling. "You really want me to go to school?"
"Yes," he said firmly. "I want you to live. I want you to see what's out there. But I want you to remember one thing."
"What?"
"Even if you go, even if you study, even if you build a new life—you'll always have a home here." His gaze softened. "With me."
My heart clenched.
I didn't know what to say.
So I didn't. I just leaned forward, pressing my forehead to his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.
He wrapped his arms around me again.
"You said a lot of things when you were drunk that night." He mused. My response was a low murmur.
"You also said your friend was in love with me."
I froze.
I did.
I sat back up. "What do you mean? I said that."
It was dark. I couldn't see his reaction well but it seemed like he caught himself slip.
"Wait. Didn't you restore my memory on that day I threatened to leave with Jasper?"
He said nothing.
"Answer me, Dawn."
He remained quiet.
"Answer me," I bit out. "Or I'll disappear tommorow and you'll never see me. You know I can."
He paused for a moment then, he said, "That wasn't your memory. I made it up in your head."
My heart thudded. "So, are you saying what I recalled was not what actually happened?"