The Forgotten Mate
The moon hung heavy in the sky, casting a soft, ethereal glow over the Redwood Pack's territory. Derek Stormrage, Alpha of the pack, stood alone at the edge of the cliff, his gaze sweeping across the darkened forest below. A cool breeze stirred the branches, carrying with it the familiar scent of earth and pine—but there was something else, something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
A faint, almost imperceptible trace of jasmine.
His jaw tightened, and his breath caught in his chest. It had been years since he had last smelled it—the scent that once clung to her skin, to her hair, to the air around her. The scent of his mate.
He had thought her gone. Thought her lost to him forever.
The memory of her departure, the way she had disappeared without a trace, still haunted him. It had been five long years since he had last seen her, but the pain of that day—the emptiness she had left in her wake—had never truly faded. He had searched, of course. For months, he had combed through the forests, the villages, the cities, following every whisper of information, every rumor. But it was as if the world itself had erased her. No scent, no sign, no trace.
Yet tonight, that familiar fragrance was back.
Derek's heart began to beat a little faster. Was it possible? Had she really returned?
"Derek," came a voice behind him, breaking his thoughts. Cain, his Beta, stood at a distance, his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was unreadable, but Derek could feel the weight of his gaze.
"You've been standing there for hours," Cain continued, his tone calm, as if he hadn't noticed the shift in the air. "What's on your mind?"
Derek didn't turn. His eyes remained locked on the distant forest. The scent was still there, lingering just beyond the trees. But what could it mean? What was he supposed to do with this unexpected gift, this impossible hope?
"Did you smell it?" Derek asked, his voice low and almost a whisper.
Cain frowned, taking a few steps closer. "Smell what?"
"The scent," Derek said, his tone clipped. "Of jasmine."
It was a ridiculous thing to ask. But Cain knew—he had to. He could see it in the way Derek's nostrils flared, in the way his jaw clenched. It was the same way he'd reacted all those years ago when the scent had first disappeared, only to now be back again, uninvited and uncertain.
Cain's eyes narrowed. He stepped forward, taking in a deep breath. The air shifted, carried by the same breeze that had tugged at Derek's hair. He sniffed again, the muscles in his face tightening, as if he were trying to place something he couldn't quite remember. "I don't—"
"Of course not," Derek interrupted, shaking his head, the frustration in his voice rising. "It's faint. Too faint. But it's there."
Cain was quiet for a moment, his gaze flicking toward the trees. "And what does it mean?"
Derek's hands clenched into fists. He hadn't known what it meant when he first caught the scent. The only thing he had known was that it made him feel… unsettled. Alive in a way he hadn't felt in years. But the more he thought about it, the more a gnawing question surfaced. What if she wasn't the same? What if she hadn't been the same since she left?
"Nothing good, Cain," he muttered, his voice dark. "Nothing good at all."
Cain hesitated. He was loyal, always had been, but even he could sense the weight of the situation. It had been five years—five years without her. Without his mate.
"Maybe it's just a memory," Cain suggested softly. "A trick of the mind."
"Maybe," Derek replied, though the word felt hollow. He knew better than to entertain such thoughts. No, this wasn't just a memory. Memories didn't linger in the air like this. Memories didn't call to him from the depths of the forest. There was something more to it—something that felt all too real.
Without another word, Derek turned on his heel, his feet carrying him toward the woods. He needed to follow the scent, to understand it, to know if it was really her. If it was, then what had happened to her? And why had she left him?
Cain didn't follow. He didn't need to. He understood. The Alpha had always been a man of action, not words. Derek would find the answers—whether they were what he wanted to hear or not.
The further Derek ventured into the woods, the stronger the scent became, twisting through the trees like a ghost of the past. He pushed through the underbrush, branches scratching at his skin, his heart pounding in his chest with a mix of dread and anticipation.
And then, just as the moonlight filtered through the canopy, he saw her.
She was standing at the edge of a small clearing, bathed in silver light, her back to him. Her hair fell in waves down her back, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. It was as though the universe had held its breath, waiting for him to catch up to her.
But she didn't turn. She didn't move.
Derek's mouth went dry as he stared at her—at the woman who had once been everything to him. His mate.
Her scent was stronger now, unmistakable. His pulse raced.
And then, without warning, she turned, her eyes locking with his. For a moment, there was recognition in her gaze, but it was fleeting. The confusion that followed was enough to shatter any hope he had left.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice calm, but guarded. "Why are you following me?"
Derek's breath caught in his throat. She didn't know him. She didn't remember him.
"How… How do you not recognize me?" he asked, his voice rough with the weight of years of unanswered questions.
Her gaze flickered, as if trying to place him, but she quickly looked away. "I don't know you," she said quietly, almost as if convincing herself.
His heart sank. She couldn't remember. She couldn't even place him.
"Diana…" His voice broke, raw and pleading. "It's me. It's Derek."
She flinched, stepping back as if his words had physically pushed her away. Her eyes darted to the ground, then to the shadows around them, before she spoke again, her words barely above a whisper.
"I think you're mistaken."
And with that, she turned away, walking into the trees without another glance back.
Derek stood frozen, the cool night air pressing in on him as the reality of her words sank in. She had forgotten him. Completely. The bond they once shared had been severed, leaving nothing but a hollow ache in his chest.
He had found her—but in doing so, he had lost her all over again.