My Alpha Forgot Our Dead Daughter’s Anniversary
Chapter 2
The silence in the luxury SUV was suffocating. I stared out the window, watching the forest blur past as we headed toward the Council Hall. Beside me, Axel's presence was like a physical weight, his expensive cologne mingling with the faint scent of Brinley that still clung to him.
"You're really doing this," he said finally, his voice cutting through the silence. "This dramatic display of demanding a rejection ceremony."
I didn't look at him. "It's not a display, Axel. It's a necessity."
He laughed, the sound hollow and cruel. "You think I don't know what you're doing? This is just another manipulation tactic. You've always been good at playing the victim."
I clenched my jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how deeply his words cut. Three years ago, on this very day, we buried our daughter. Now he sat here, not even acknowledging what today meant.
"I wonder what the Council will think when they hear how their precious Luna abandoned her duties for this... tantrum." He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small silver flask. The kind he used to carry before we had Lily.
"Is that what you told Brinley? That I was having a tantrum?" I finally turned to look at him, searching for any trace of the man I once loved.
His eyes met mine, cold and unfamiliar. "Brinley understands what it takes to lead a pack. She doesn't burden me with—"
A sudden jolt cut him off as the car swerved violently. The driver cursed, slamming on the brakes.
"Alpha, we've got company," Marcus's voice came through the speaker, tense and professional.
Headlights flashed in the rearview mirror—three vehicles closing in fast.
"Rogues," Axel muttered, instantly alert. "They must have tracked us from the Pack House."
My heart raced as I remembered the enemies Axel had made during his rise to power—wolves who had challenged him and lost everything.
"Marcus, take the next turnoff," Axel ordered, his Alpha tone vibrating through the car.
The driver nodded sharply, accelerating into a curve. The tires squealed against the asphalt as we took the bend too fast.
"They're gaining," I whispered, watching the headlights grow larger in the side mirror.
Axel's hand found mine, squeezing tightly. "Don't worry. Marcus can handle this."
A sickening thud echoed through the car as something heavy slammed into our rear bumper. We lurched forward, my body thrown against the seatbelt.
"They're trying to run us off the road!" Marcus shouted.
Another impact, harder this time. The car spun, tires losing their grip on the wet pavement. Through the windshield, I glimpsed a steep ravine beside the road, trees reaching up from the darkness below.
"Brace yourself," Axel commanded, his voice eerily calm.
Time slowed. Axel's body lunged across mine, his arms wrapping around me protectively as the world tilted sideways. Glass shattered. Metal screamed against metal. The car flipped once, twice, three times.
Each impact drove Axel's body harder against mine. I heard his breath leave his lungs in a painful rush as his head cracked against the reinforced frame.
"Stay with me," I gasped, tasting blood where I'd bitten my tongue.
The car finally came to rest upside down, the engine ticking ominously in the silence that followed. Something warm trickled down my temple—blood, not mine.
"Axel?" I whispered, struggling against my seatbelt.
His breathing came in shallow gasps. His face, normally so commanding and cold, looked vulnerable in the dim light filtering through the shattered windows.
---
Two days later, I sat beside Axel's hospital bed, my body bruised but otherwise intact. Dr. Hartwell had insisted I stay for observation, but I knew it was really because she didn't trust me to leave Axel alone in his condition.
I'd been there when his eyes finally opened.
"Noelle?" His voice was hoarse, confused. "What happened? Why are we here?"
I froze, my hand halfway to his. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
"Where's your father?" he asked, trying to sit up. "Did he hurt you again? I'll kill him if he did."
"Axel," I said carefully, "my father died years ago."
Confusion clouded his features. He reached for me suddenly, pulling me against his chest. "My beautiful mate," he murmured against my hair. "I'm sorry I left you alone so long in that prison. I'm never leaving you again."
I recoiled in horror, stumbling backward. This wasn't my mate—this was a stranger wearing his face.
"Dr. Hartwell!" I called out, my voice shaking.
The doctor appeared instantly, her expression grim as she took in the scene.
"What's happening to him?" I demanded.
She approached Axel slowly, checking his vitals. "It's a form of traumatic regression," she explained quietly. "The injury to his head combined with... whatever was happening between you two... his mind has retreated to a safer time."
"Safer time?" I echoed.
Axel looked between us, his eyes wide and frightened. "Noelle, what's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?"
Dr. Hartwell turned to me, her voice low. "He believes he's eighteen years old, just released from prison. He doesn't remember anything past that."
I stared at the man before me—this version of Axel who looked at me with adoration instead of contempt. Who called me his beautiful mate instead of accusing me of manipulation.
"Is it permanent?" I whispered.
Dr. Hartwell's silence was answer enough.
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