My Alpha Forgot Our Dead Daughter’s Anniversary

The dining room felt suffocating as I sat across from Axel, pushing food around my plate without appetite. Three days had passed since the accident, and each moment with this version of Axel—this innocent, devoted version—felt like torture.

"You've barely touched your dinner," he observed, his young eyes full of concern. "Are you still feeling sick from the accident?"

I shook my head slightly. "I'm fine."

He reached across the table, his fingers brushing mine. "Then why won't you look at me? Why won't you let me touch you?"

I pulled my hand away, the contact sending unwelcome sparks through my skin. "Eat your dinner, Axel."

"Something's wrong with our bond," he persisted, setting down his fork. "I can feel it. The wolf inside me howls constantly for you."

My heart clenched at his words. If only he knew how his future self had silenced that wolf, how he'd learned to ignore its calls.

"Can I see it?" he asked suddenly.

"See what?"

"My mark on you." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Please, Noelle. I need to know."

I hesitated, then slowly turned my head, exposing the side of my neck. With trembling fingers, I pulled down the collar of my blouse.

Axel's sharp intake of breath cut through the silence. He stood abruptly, moving to kneel beside my chair. His fingers hovered over my neck, not quite touching.

"It's faded," he whispered, horror dawning in his eyes. "Why is it faded?"

I remained silent, watching as realization crashed over his features.

"A mark only fades when..." His voice broke. "Noelle, what happened to us? What did I do?"

The color drained from his face as he stared at the grayish outline of what should have been a vibrant mark—a symbol of our eternal bond now reduced to a ghost of itself.

"Tell me," he begged, his body trembling. "Please tell me."

I couldn't speak. How could I explain that his future self had destroyed everything we once cherished?

Axel fell to his knees before me, his forehead pressed against my lap. His shoulders shook with silent sobs as his wolf howled inside him—a sound I could almost hear echoing through the empty spaces between us.

"I don't understand," he choked out. "I would never hurt you. I would never let our bond fade."

I placed my hand on his head, feeling the softness of his hair beneath my fingers. For a moment, I allowed myself to imagine this was real—that somehow we could go back and change everything.

But the weight of Lily's locket around my neck reminded me of the truth.

---

I volunteered at the pack clinic that afternoon, needing space from Axel's questions and the suffocating weight of his devotion. The familiar scent of antiseptic and herbs calmed my frayed nerves as I organized medical supplies.

"He's asking questions," Dr. Hartwell said quietly, appearing beside me. "About the house, about you."

I nodded, continuing to sort vials. "He's looking for answers."

"Be careful, Noelle." Her hand touched my arm gently. "The truth could break him."

I smiled bitterly. "The truth already did."

When I returned to the Pack House hours later, a hush fell over the staff. Marcus, Axel's Beta, met me at the door, his expression grave.

"He's upstairs," he said simply.

I found Axel in the east wing, on his knees before a small door I'd kept locked for three years. The wood splintered around the broken lock.

"What is this place?" he asked without turning.

I stood in the doorway, unable to step inside. "You shouldn't be in here."

Axel's shoulders shook as he stared at the preserved nursery before him. Everything remained exactly as it had been the day we lost her—the pale pink walls, the white crib with its mobile of silver stars, the stuffed animals arranged carefully on shelves.

His gaze fell on the small urn on the mantel.

"Lily Richards," he read aloud, his voice hollow. "Beloved daughter of Axel and Noelle Richards."

He turned to me then, his face contorted with grief and confusion. "We had a child?"

I remained in the doorway, unable to enter this sacred space of memory.

"What happened to her?" he whispered.

I stepped inside finally, my legs unsteady. "There was a fire."

Axel's eyes widened as understanding dawned. "And I... my future self..."

"How old was she?" he asked, his voice breaking.

"Three years old. Almost four."

He doubled over, a strangled sound escaping his throat. When he looked up at me, tears streamed down his face.

"How did it happen?" he begged. "Tell me how I let this happen."

I stared down at him, this innocent version of the man who had broken my heart and lost our daughter through his own selfishness.

"There was a fire," I said coldly. "You were fighting with me about your mistress. You blocked the mind-link to shut me up. We didn't smell the smoke until she stopped screaming."

Axel's face drained of color. He lurched forward, vomiting onto the nursery floor as the horror of his future self's actions hit him.

He looked up at me with terror in his eyes, finally understanding my coldness.

"What have I become?" he whispered.