The Alpha's Forbidden Vow novel Chapter 115

POV: Selene

I had to do something.

I could not sit in this beautiful prison and wait for Zane’s broken mind to heal itself.

I had to be the cure.

That night, after Leo was asleep, I found my resolve. I left my room and walked with a steady, determined pace to the Alpha’s wing.

To his study.

The two guards at the door tensed as I approached, but they did not move to stop me. My new, undefined status as the Alpha’s Mate, even a disgraced one, held them in check.

I pushed the door open without knocking.

Zane was at his desk, surrounded by piles of pack reports, but he wasn’t working.

He was staring into a glass of whiskey, his brows furrowed, his entire being radiating a deep, frustrated agitation.

He looked up as I entered, his eyes narrowing. “What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk,” I said, my voice calm and even.

I closed the door behind me.

He watched me, his expression wary, guarded.

I didn't mention Ryker. I didn't mention his cruelty in the garden. That would only trigger his possessive rage.

I had to try a different approach.

I walked closer to his desk. “I want to talk about the Mating Mark.”

He flinched, his hand unconsciously going to the faint, silver mark on his neck.

“What about it?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

“It is a bond between our souls, Zane,” I said softly, using the knowledge I had gleaned from the ancient books. “It connects us. Our life forces, our instincts.”

I took another step, my own hand going to the matching mark on my neck.

“When you are agitated, I feel it. When you are in pain, my wolf is restless. And when I am near you…”

I was standing directly in front of his desk now.

“Your wolf… it feels it too, doesn't it?”

POV: Zane

Her words were a direct assault on the chaos in my mind.

She was right.

I had been on edge all evening, my wolf a restless, snarling beast inside me.

But the moment she had walked into the room, the moment her scent of chamomile and rain had filled my space, a strange, infuriating calm had begun to settle over me.

The beast had quieted.

The bond, the one I only understood as a symbol of ownership, was a tangible thing, a current of energy flowing between us.

Her proximity soothed the part of me that was constantly at war.

I hated it. I hated the weakness.

But I couldn't deny it.

I watched as she walked around the desk, her movements graceful and deliberate.

She stopped beside my chair, her scent enveloping me.

The man, the woman, the child. A family.

My family.

I remembered nothing. No shared laughter, no gentle touches, no sense of belonging.

But as I looked at the drawing, a feeling of profound, overwhelming loss crashed over me.

It was a phantom limb, an agonizing ache for something vital that had been amputated from my soul.

I looked up, from the drawing to the real people standing before me.

I saw Selene, her beautiful face streaked with a silent, hopeful tear.

I saw Leo, my son, my heir, looking up at me with an unshakeable faith.

For the first time since I had woken up in that cave, I saw them not as a possession and an heir.

I saw the vague, blurry, and incredibly painful outline of my family.

Of my home.

Without thinking, my hand, which had been clenched into a fist, slowly relaxed.

My fingers trembled slightly as I reached out.

I didn't touch Leo. I didn't touch Selene.

My finger came to rest on the drawing, on the crude, crayon face of the woman who was my mate.

And a single, agonizing question echoed in the silent, broken chambers of my heart.

What did I forget?