Severed Bond, New Beginning

That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, the healer's journal hidden beneath my mattress like a guilty secret. Brooks slept beside me, his breathing deep and even, completely unaware that his carefully constructed lies were crumbling around him.

Sage stirred restlessly in my mind, more alert than she'd been in months. *The herbs are weakening,* she whispered, her voice stronger than I'd heard it in ages. *I can feel the barriers breaking down.*

"What barriers?" I asked silently, but even as the words formed in my thoughts, images began flickering behind my closed eyelids—fragments of memories that felt both foreign and intimately familiar.

Flash: Brooks's face twisted with rage, his Alpha aura pressing down on me like a physical weight.

Flash: My hands protectively cradling something precious, tears streaming down my cheeks.

Flash: The sensation of falling, terror and heartbreak mingling as I tumbled down stone steps.

I gasped, my eyes flying open as phantom pain lanced through my abdomen. The memories felt real—more real than any dream I'd ever experienced. My hand moved instinctively to my stomach, and for a brief, devastating moment, I could swear I felt the echo of life that had once grown there.

*Our pup,* Sage whimpered, her anguish bleeding into my consciousness. *We lost our pup.*

The words hit me like a physical blow. I rolled away from Brooks, pressing my face into the pillow to muffle the sob that tore from my throat. How could I have forgotten something so monumental? How could the loss of my own child have been erased from my mind?

Brooks stirred beside me, his arm reaching across the bed. "Miranda? What's wrong?"

I forced my breathing to steady, wiping away tears before turning to face him. In the moonlight streaming through our bedroom window, his familiar features looked almost foreign—the face of a stranger who'd stolen pieces of my soul.

"Just a nightmare," I lied, the words bitter on my tongue. "Go back to sleep."

He studied my face for a moment, and I saw something flicker in his dark eyes—guilt? Fear? Whatever it was, he buried it quickly behind his Alpha mask.

"You've been having a lot of nightmares lately," he said carefully. "Maybe you should see Healer Morrison again. Get something stronger."

The casual suggestion made my stomach turn. He was still trying to drug me, still trying to keep me compliant and forgetful. "I'm fine," I managed. "Really."

Brooks watched me for another long moment before settling back against his pillow. Within minutes, his breathing had returned to the deep rhythm of sleep, leaving me alone with my fragmenting memories and growing horror.

Over the next few days, I began following Brooks whenever he left the packhouse. My omega training had taught me to be invisible, to move through shadows without being noticed—skills that now served a darker purpose than I'd ever imagined.

On the third day, I tracked him to the old mill on the outskirts of our territory. Hidden behind a cluster of pine trees, I watched as a familiar figure emerged from the abandoned building—Talia Green, her auburn hair catching the afternoon sunlight like flames.

My wolf snarled as Brooks pulled her into his arms, the same tender embrace I'd witnessed at the hotel. But this time, I was close enough to hear their conversation.

"You can't keep doing this to her," Talia was saying, her voice carrying a note of manufactured concern. "The guilt is eating you alive, Brooks."

"I don't have a choice," he replied, his voice rough with emotion. "If she remembers what happened, if she remembers what I did..."

"What you did was an accident," Talia interrupted, but there was something calculating in her tone. "Your Alpha rage got the better of you. These things happen."

"I killed our pup," Brooks whispered, the words so quiet I almost missed them. "I pushed her down those stairs and killed our unborn child. How is that an accident?"

The world tilted sideways. My legs gave out, and I collapsed against the rough bark of the pine tree, my hand pressed to my mouth to stifle the scream building in my throat.

Talia's voice continued, soft and poisonous. "You owe me this much, at least. After everything your family put me through, after forcing me to leave... spending time with me is the least you can do. Miranda doesn't have to know."

"She's starting to remember," Brooks said, and I could hear the panic creeping into his voice. "The healer says the herbs are becoming less effective. Her wolf is fighting back."

"Then we'll have to be more careful," Talia replied. "Or find another solution."

I didn't wait to hear what that solution might be. On trembling legs, I made my way back through the forest, Sage's anguished howls echoing through my mind as more memories surfaced with each step.

I remembered now—the joy of discovering I was pregnant, the careful plans I'd made to tell Brooks about our pup. I remembered his reaction when I'd confronted him about calling out Talia's name during our most intimate moments, the way his face had contorted with rage when I'd demanded the truth about his feelings for her.

And I remembered falling—the terror, the pain, and the devastating emptiness that followed.

By the time I reached the packhouse, my cheeks were wet with tears for a child I'd been forced to forget, and my heart burned with a fury that no amount of herbs could ever suppress again.