Chapter 299

Chapter 299
【Elsa POV】

I perch on the edge of Leif's hospital bed, our fingers interlaced on the white sheets. The mate bond pulses steadily between us, warm and reassuring in a way that still amazes me.

"So you think there's actually a way to fix this memory thing?" Leif asks, gesturing vaguely at his head with his free hand.

We can go talk to her, Freyja suggests through our mental link, her silver-gray form sprawled across both our legs. Saga might know something about breaking whatever's blocking you.

I turn to Leif, squeezing his hand. "Freyja thinks we should talk to Saga. She's this... well, it's hard to explain. She's not entirely human, but she seems to understand magic and wolf bonds better than most people."

Leif nods slowly, processing this like he does everything now—carefully, without the context of memories to guide him. "Okay. If you think it might help."

Suddenly, Freyja lifts her head from where she's been enjoying Leif's ear scratches. Her ice-blue eyes narrow as she stretches her neck toward my chest, nose working overtime. A low, uncertain whine escapes her throat.

Leif's hand stills in her fur. "What's wrong, girl?"

Instead of answering him, Freyja scoots closer to me, her black nose nearly touching my collarbone. Her ears flatten against her head as she continues sniffing.

What is that scent? she demands through our bond, mental voice sharp with suspicion.

I automatically cover the spot where my mate mark throbs beneath my shirt. "What scent?"

But Leif has noticed our silent exchange. He leans forward, drawing in a breath near my shoulder. His amber eyes warm as they meet mine. "I think you smell wonderful," he says, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Freyja is not amused. She pushes her nose closer, and her tail stops wagging entirely.

There's something new, she insists, more forcefully this time. Something different. What did you touch?

I feel the magical threads connecting me to Grimoire give a sharp, unmistakable tug. Like someone yanking on a rope attached to my soul.

Shit. Of course she'd pick up on that.

"No, Freyja's sensing something," I tell Leif, keeping my voice carefully neutral. "Something I almost forgot about."

Sorry, I think toward Grimoire. Almost forgot to mention you there.

The magical connection jerks so hard I have to bite back a wince. Whatever Grimoire's response is, it's not pleased.

Looking between Leif's curious amber eyes and Freyja's increasingly suspicious blue ones, I make a quick decision. "I'll tell you both later. When we're somewhere safer."

Tell us now, Freyja demands, but I shake my head.

"Later," I say firmly, then add through our mental link: When we're not in a hospital room.

This raises another question that's been bothering me. I study Leif's face carefully. "Can you hear what I'm saying to her? The mental communication?"

Leif shakes his head, looking almost apologetic. "No. Should I be able to?"

"When did the doctor say you could be discharged?" I ask instead, shifting to more practical matters.

"He mentioned it could be today, actually," Leif replies, flexing his fingers experimentally. "Everything's healed up faster than expected."

The word home hovers unspoken between us. I take a breath. "I guess that means coming back to Svartskogens with me? "

Leif's expression grows thoughtful. He looks around the sterile hospital room, then back at me. "Do I have anywhere else to go?"

I shake my head. "Not really. I mean, you could try going back to your own territory, but..."

I don't finish the sentence. No need to tell him that showing weakness might invite challenges from his own pack members.

"Then Sagakafeet it is," he says with quiet acceptance.

Tell us about the scent now, Freyja interrupts, her mental voice carrying that familiar note of impatience.

"Focus on Leif getting better first," I tell her, running my fingers through her soft fur. "Everything else can wait."

Leif nods. "The sooner I can get out of here, the better. I don't like being separated from you."

The simple honesty in his words makes my chest tight. "I don't like it either."

When he opens his arms, I don't hesitate. I lean into his embrace, feeling his warmth seep through my clothes. It's different from yesterday's desperate heat—calmer, steadier. Like coming home instead of barely controlled wildfire.

The mate bond has settled something fundamental between us. My body recognizes his now, not just as a potential partner but as my partner.

Freyja, apparently deciding she's been ignored long enough, lets out a soft whimper and tries to wiggle between us.

I shift to accommodate her, shaking my head with a mix of fondness and exasperation. "You're like having a really large, really spoiled dog."

I am not a domestic animal, she huffs indignantly through our mental link.

Leif chuckles, reaching out to scratch behind her ears again. Despite her protests, Freyja immediately melts into his touch, eyes half-closing in bliss.

"Don't be too hard on her," Leif says softly, genuine affection in his voice. "Freyja's the only reason I stayed sane in this room."

Warmth blooms in my chest—part gratitude, part something deeper. Through our bond, I feel Freyja's pleased satisfaction, though she maintains her dignified expression.

"Thank you," I whisper, stroking her silver fur. "Thank you for taking care of him, Freyja."

Someone had to, she replies, but there's warmth in her mental tone. He's important to both of us.

I'm still marveling at how much her attitude toward Leif has changed when a knock interrupts us.

It's our healer, Freyja informs me, lifting her head.

"Come in," I call out.

Edda steps through the door with her usual professional bearing, but her eyes immediately zero in on my neck. Her eyebrows shoot up as she takes in the visible mate mark just above my collar.

"Well," she says with characteristic bluntness, "looks like you two made good use of your time together."

Heat floods my face instantly. Jesus. I'd completely forgotten that everyone would be able to see the mark. The fact that we'd... in a hospital room...

But my embarrassment fades quickly when I notice Leif's reaction. He's gone completely still beside me, his hand freezing mid-pet on Freyja's fur. When I glance at him, his amber eyes are fixed on Edda with unmistakable wariness.

His whole posture has shifted. The relaxed openness he'd shown with me and Freyja has vanished, replaced by the careful alertness of someone facing a potential threat. His shoulders tense, and he gives Edda a polite but distant nod.

"Leif?" I ask softly, concerned by the sudden change.

He acknowledges Edda with cool professionalism—the way strangers greet each other.

And that's when it hits me like a physical blow.

He doesn't remember her at all, Elsa, Freyja's voice cuts through my shock. To Leif, everyone here is a stranger—even people who were once his closest friends and allies. Even his own pack members. How can he trust someone just because others tell him he should?

My breath catches as the full scope of Leif's situation crashes over me. I'd been so focused on the fact that he didn't remember me that I'd completely missed the bigger picture.

He doesn't remember anyone.