Chapter 55

I contemplate revealing the truth to her, but it's a complex matter. I hope she doesn't have to burden herself with thoughts that could disrupt her healing process. Her mind is still recovering from the immense mystic power I had to channel into her when she was on the brink of death. However, there's a significant part of me that cannot deny her anything.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" Her sharp eyes discerned my intentions before I could divert her attention. She is oblivious to many things yet perceptive in certain aspects. As she began to lean away, I took her hand in mine and planted a gentle kiss on the back, eliciting a sigh from her. She moved to the edge of the desk, her soft eyes meeting mine and a certain helplessness creasing her brow. I surrendered; I needed to know how much she was starting to remember, even though her memories were fragmented, making it challenging for her to piece them together.

"Do you remember the day the lycans invaded the lunar valley?"

"The day I got injured," she replied.

I nodded.

Her frown deepened, and she shuddered before nodding again.

"Yes," she confirmed.

"Do you remember the temple?" She hadn't ventured out much since waking up, and I was concerned about her memory loss. If she encountered someone or heard something, it could have adverse effects. She had not seen the temple since that day.

She furrowed her brow, a glazed look taking over her eyes, and they fluttered briefly as she shook her head.

"No," she replied, shaking her head.

"The temple of the moon god and the maiden You were attacked there, and there is a protective barrier around the temple, created by my ancestors. It's the focal point, and it's the strongest there. While everyone else sought shelter, you were out there with a sword," I explained.

I vividly recall that night when I, along with all the wolf packs, rushed to defend the entrance to the lunar valley. There were four lycans at the forefront. It was the most unexpected and dreaded scenario of my life—lycans had found a way into the lunar valley. The temple was the last resort for women, children, and those unable to protect themselves. Nobody could sense it, but there were two more lycans in the woods heading towards the temple.

Upon hearing the mental alarm from the wolves, I caught a glimpse of the other wolf and watched as I sprinted with all my might to join her in the fight. She fought not only bravely but also with grace. That day, I knew she could have defeated the Alpha Prince, regained her freedom, and left if only her friend hadn't betrayed her. I'm torn between gratitude towards Sansa and resentment for shattering Rose's trust.

"What about the temple?" She snapped me out of my thoughts.

"The same protective barrier surrounds the lunar valley as well. My ancestors' magic runs deep within its veins. But on the day of the attack, I didn't feel the lycans enter the lunar valley. I couldn't figure out how those beasts managed to get in. Since then, I've been trying to unravel the mystery, but no witch has a solution for soul magic. It's too ancient and powerful. However, they could have breached it for a few hours. The protection barrier was reinstated the moment every lycan was slain."

"Soul magic is powerful. Can werewolves manipulate memories?" She inquired, raising an eyebrow. There are always some rogue wolves or those who go mad in the absence, death, or rejection of a mate. "Werewolves live here too, and anyone from the lunar valley wouldn't dare. They lack the strength to perform even a simple soul-magic endeavour. Rogue wolves don't possess soul magic. Manipulating memories is something only I can do."

I paused, meeting her eyes as she tilted her head thoughtfully, a serious expression adorning her face. I despise seeing her frown; I need to distract her.

"I'm the only one who can do something so extreme. Am I a suspect?" I playfully teased her.

"I didn't mean that," she replied, her eyes widening and weariness clouding her gaze. I chuckled.

"Don't take me seriously. I almost thought..." She sighed in relief, looking away and attempting to walk towards the bed, but I grasped her hand. Rose has been deprived of so many casual interactions; she often struggles to discern when I'm joking. I pulled her closer, wrapping my arms around her waist. I savoured the feeling of her soft body against mine, tugging her onto my lap. She took a sharp breath. Her face flushed crimson, her freckles blending with the hue.

"I'm teasing, my dear wife," I reassured her.

She tried to get up, but I maintained a firm grip. Her warmth washed over me like a tidal wave, making me crave being submerged in it. In her presence, there is never a moment when I don't desire her.

"Let go of me," she demanded.

"I'm still cross with you," She stated, her fierce and wide-eyed gaze fixed on me.

"You're talking to me," I pointed out.

"I was..." She paused, frustrated, her hand touching my arm, but she didn't push away, and I smiled. "I'm trying to help you; otherwise..." She trailed off, touching the parchment and delicately biting her lower lip.

"Otherwise, what...?" I inquired.

She furrowed her brow, then did so again, and I reached for her forehead, smoothing out the lines. "Tell me, Rose."

She met my eyes, then looked down at her hand, and finally back at the parchment.

"You'll be troubled and leave on one of your walks." Her eyelids fluttered, a wary reaction she displays when admitting vulnerability. She fights the urge to close her eyes, refusing to back down from her struggles.

"Does it bother you when I leave?" I asked.

She met my gaze, her eyes soft and vulnerable. My heart nearly gave out at the expression, and she nodded. I recalled her words from earlier in the morning, when she asked to accompany me so she wouldn't have to wonder where I am or what I'm doing, alone and uncertain.

"You're afraid I'll be alone," I stated.

"Yes, and..." Her nails dug deep into my arms, but I didn't avert my eyes from her face. Her lips trembled, and her chest rose and fell rapidly.

"I'm afraid of being alone," she managed to utter, her lips trembling. I couldn't fathom the courage it took for her to admit it. Then she shook her head, her eyelids fluttering, and she began to retract her words.

"I know you have a lot of responsibilities. You have plenty to worry about, and you don't have to worry about me," she stammered, attempting to get up.

"No!" I protested, pulling her back into my arms and shaking my head. I knew it was selfish and a great sin against the oath of the moon god, but, good Lord, there was no one more important to me than her. I would forsake anything for her. "I worry about you. I will always worry about you because I want you to be happy."