GIBSON’s POV
I stormed out of the room, my anger, and frustration boiling over like a tempest. The revelation that Kyla, the woman I loved, couldn't remember me or our life together was a bitter pill to swallow. I felt like I'd been punched in the gut, my breath knocked out of me.
As I stalked down the corridor, my bare fists clenched at my sides, I couldn't shake off the feeling of desperation that threatened to consume me. I'd been waiting for what felt like an eternity for Kyla to awaken, to remember me, to remember us. And now, it seemed like that moment might never come.
My anger and frustration finally found an outlet as I slammed my fists onto the nearest table, the wood splintering beneath my blows. The sound of shattering wood echoed through the corridor, a testament to my rage.
“My king!” my guard, Ryder, rushed into the room, his voice laced with concern. “Please, you must calm down!”
I turned to face him, my chest heaving with exertion, my eyes blazing with fury. “How can I calm down, Ryder?” I demanded, my voice low and menacing. “The woman I love, the woman I've risked everything for, doesn't even remember me!”
I was seething with rage, my emotions simmering just below the surface. The memories of that fateful day still haunted me: the day Kyla went missing, leaving behind only traces of blood and a trail of devastation. We had searched far and wide, scouring every inch of the kingdom, but to no avail. The assumption had been that she was dead, taken from me by the ruthless hands of our enemies.
The months that followed were a blur of grief and anger. I had mourned her loss with a ferocity that bordered on madness, driven by a hunger for vengeance against those responsible. The goons who had invaded the palace, leaving death and destruction in their wake, had been dealt with swiftly and mercilessly. I had shown no quarter, no compassion, as I slaughtered them one by one, my heart heavy with sorrow and my soul consumed by rage.
Wilson, my loyal friend and confidant, had stood by my side throughout the ordeal, a rock of stability in a sea of chaos. Together, we had navigated the dark waters of grief, and our bond was strengthened by the shared experience of loss and vengeance.
But now, as I stood face to face with Kyla, alive and yet somehow lost to me, I felt my emotions threatening to boil over once more. The turmoil that had lain dormant for so long was stirring, awakened by the realization that the woman I loved was still alive, yet somehow beyond my reach.
*Flashback*
I had become a shadow of my former self, ruled by brutality and ruthlessness after Kyla's disappearance. The pain of her loss had been a festering wound, refusing to heal. But now, as I lay in my bed, her sudden return hung in the air like a specter, taunting me with the cruel twist of fate that had brought her back with no memory of me.
My mind wandered back to the day we met, a chance encounter that seemed almost surreal. It was as if fate had conjured her up, a dream come to life. I recalled the way my heart had skipped a beat when our eyes first met, the way my soul had stirred with a sense of recognition.
But now, as I lay in the darkness, her absence still felt like a gaping chasm. I could feel her wails echoing in my heart, a haunting refrain that refused to fade. The pain was a palpable thing, a weight that pressed upon my chest, making it difficult to breathe.
I tossed off the covers and rose from my bed, the wails growing louder, more insistent. My heart felt like it was shattering, the shards piercing my very soul. I stumbled through the darkness, driven by a desperate need to escape the agony that threatened to consume me.
The sound of my ragged breathing was the only thing that broke the silence, a stark reminder that I was still alive, still trapped in this living nightmare. And yet, even as the pain threatened to overwhelm me, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope.
As the wails continued to echo in my mind, I stumbled and fell, my balance shattered by the sheer force of my emotions. My eyes closed, and when I opened them again, I found myself transported to a dreamlike realm.
In this surreal landscape, I saw Kyla, her slender form silhouetted against the dark, enclosing walls that seemed to be closing in on her. She was battling to break free, her fists clenched and her eyes flashing with determination.
“Kyla!” I called out, my voice hoarse with desperation, but she didn't seem to hear me. She was lost in her world, her lips moving in a silent murmur as she argued with some unseen force.
I tried again, my voice growing louder, more insistent. “Kyla, can you hear me? Please, answer me!” But she remained oblivious, trapped in her private hell.
As I watched, helpless and frustrated, Kyla's murmurs grew louder, more urgent. Her words became discernible, and I felt a chill run down my spine as I realized she was reliving some long-forgotten nightmare.
“No, no, no… please don't make me go back,” she whispered, her voice trembling with fear. “I won't go back. I won't remember.”
As I finally reached Kyla's side, I could see the exhaustion etched on her face. Her eyes fluttered closed, and her body went limp. I swept her into my arms, cradling her against my chest as I made my way to her chambers.
The room was exactly as it had been on the day she disappeared: untouched, unchanged. I had forbidden anyone from entering, from disturbing the memories that lingered within these walls. It was as if time had stood still, waiting for her return.
I laid Kyla on her bed, her slender form sinking into the softness of the mattress. As I gazed down at her, a shiver ran down my spine. Something didn't feel right.
It was like a dream, but it was real but how?