uncer 289

Chapter 289 

FAYE 

+25 Points 

The pack house had been buzzing since dawn, whispers sliding through hallways, guards shifting posts more often than usual. 

By the time I made my way back toward Alexander’s office, fully dressed now, the room was still empty. 

I paused at the doorway, glancing inside as if he might materialize simply because I expected him to. Cole wasn’t even there to respond to me anymore. 

I exhaled slowly. 

Waiting had never been my strength. 

The clinic wasn’t far, and before I could second–guess myself, my feet were already carrying me down the corridor. I just wanted to see things for myself. That was better than sitting in the office imagining worst–case scenarios. 

I was too restless to wait. 

The closer I got, the quieter the world seemed to become. The clinic always had that effect. Voices drifted from a corner ahead, low but clear enough that I slowed without meaning to. 

“…could be trauma–related,” Dr. Adams was saying, her voice calm and professional, but threaded with cautious optimism. “At least physically, he’s much stronger than when he was brought in.” 

“But if he doesn’t remember anything?” Alexander’s voice followed, deeper. “Then we still have a problem… a big one. Especially knowing he’s human. He can’t just stay here.” 

I continued walking toward their voices. 

“There’s always a chance his memory could return gradually,” Dr. Adams replied. “Trauma like this–whatever he’s been through–can lock things away. It doesn’t mean they’re gone forever. 

There was a brief silence. I could imagine what Alexander was thinking. He hated uncertainty. Hated variables he couldn’t control. 

I didn’t want to interrupt immediately because they seemed so focused. So I just walked over and stood there without talking. 

1/5 

< Chapter 289 

Alexander spoke again. “Or it might never come back.” 

“We should be positive,” Dr. Adams said gently. 

That was when I cleared my throat. “Good morning,” I said, 

+25 Points 

Alexander looked up first, his gaze finding mine instantly. “Hey,” he said, offering a small 

smile. 

Dr. Adams turned a second later, her expression shifting into one of respectful warmth. 

“Luna,” she greeted, dipping her head slightly. 

“Doctor,” I replied, offering a small smile before turning to Alexander. “I came to the office, but you weren’t there. I was told you’d be here.” 

His eyes softened. “Dr. Adams called,” he said simply. 

I nodded, then glanced between them. “I overheard a bit. What’s going on?” 

For a moment, Alexander said nothing. Then he shifted his gaze to Dr. Adams, a silent cue. 

“I’ll let Dr. Adams explain,” he said. 

Dr. Adams cleared her throat lightly, folding her hands together. “The boy–he’s awake now.” 

I already figured that part out, but I let her speak anyway. 

“Yes,” she confirmed. “He regained consciousness earlier today. He can speak, respond appropriately. But…” She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “He doesn’t remember anything. Not his name. Not where he’s from. Nothing.” 

I felt my brows draw together. “Nothing at all?” 

” 

Alexander answered this time. “Dr. Adams thinks it’s due to trauma. Whatever happened to him–it was severe.” His gaze drifted briefly toward one of the closed doors down the hall. The problem is, we don’t know how long it’ll take for his memory to return. Or if it ever will.” Dr. Adams nodded. “I still believe there’s hope. The mind protects itself in strange ways.” 

Alexander didn’t respond. He just inhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders telling me exactly how much he disliked relying on hope alone. 

“Can I see him?” I asked quietly. 

Dr. Adams‘ face softened. “Of course, Luna. Just… take it slow. He’s still fragile.” 

I gave a small nod in return. 

2/5 

< Chapter 289 

The door creaked softly as I pushed it open, and I stepped inside with measured care, as if any sudden movement might shatter something delicate. The room was dimmer than the hallway, curtains drawn just enough to let in filtered light. The steady beep of a heart monitor 

filled the silence. 

He lay on the bed, partially propped up by pillows, clean now. The dirt and blood were gone, replaced by pale skin and neatly arranged sheets. Someone had changed his clothes–simple pack–issued wear. 

He was young. 

Much younger than I’d imagined. 

Without the dirt and injuries obscuring him, it was obvious. His face still carried the softness of youth, sharp cheekbones not yet fully hardened by age. A teenager. Sixteen, maybe seventeen at most. There were scars along his arms and face. 

As I took another step closer, his eyes fluttered open fully, focusing on me with a mix of alertness and uncertainty. They were sharp, those eyes, but wary–like an animal that had learned too early that the world was not kind. 

He shifted, pushing his palms lightly against the mattress as if to sit up, or perhaps simply to acknowledge me. The movement was careful. Polite. Instinctive. 

“Easy,” I said softly, lifting a hand. “You don’t have to move.” 

He froze immediately, then relaxed back against the pillows, watching me closely. After a beat, he spoke. 

“Who are you?” 

His voice was rough, unused, but respectful. No fear. Just a simple question. 

“My name is Faye,” I answered calmly. I didn’t add Luna. Didn’t add anything else. Somehow, it felt like too much. “You’re safe here.” 

He nodded once, slowly, as if filing the information away even though he had nowhere to store it. Then his gaze drifted past me, up toward the ceiling, eyes following nothing in particular. 

I took another step forward, intending to sit, to say something–anything–that might ground him. 

And then I saw it. 

At first, I thought it was a trick of the light. A shadow cast strangely against the wall, darker 

3/5 

< Chapter 289 

+25 Points 

than it should have been. I stopped mid–step, my breath catching without sound. 

There–just behind him. 

A shape. 

It wasn’t solid, not fully. More like smoke and moonlight woven together, the outline unmistakable even in its hazy form. A wolf. Large… its presence pressing against my senses in a way that made my skin prickle. 

A spirit. 

No–his wolf. 

I didn’t move. Didn’t react. I barely even breathed. 

The wolf lifted its head slowly, as if becoming aware of me in the same moment I had become aware of it. Its eyes–faintly luminous–turned in my direction. 

At that exact second, the boy’s gaze shifted back to me. 

We locked eyes. 

A chill slid down my spine, sharp and electric. I wasn’t imagining it. This wasn’t exhaustion or emotion playing tricks on me. The wolf was real, even in this half–existence, hovering close to him like a guardian. 

He was a werewolf. 

Not human… 

Something about the way the wolf looked at me–alert, searching–made my heart thud harder against my ribs. 

I forced my expression to soften, to remain calm. Slowly, deliberately, I smiled at the boy. 

He didn’t smile back. But his shoulders eased, just a fraction. 

“Rest,” I said gently, though I wasn’t sure whether I was speaking to him or to the presence hovering behind him. 

Then I turned. 

I walked back toward the door without looking back.