“Nice to see you’re going back to your old routines,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips.
Heat flooded my cheeks. Knox just flicked his brother’s forehead, hard enough to make Noah yelp.
“I’ll be right back.” Knox grabbed dry clothes and disappeared into the bathroom to change.
Noah rubbed his forehead, still grinning, and walked out into the hallway. He came back a moment later pushing a wheelchair.
“Figured you might appreciate this,” he said. “Better if you don’t tire yourself out walking everywhere.”
I sank into the wheelchair gratefully. My legs were trembling from the shower exertion and I definitely wasn’t up for a trek through hospital hallways.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” Noah’s expression softened slightly. “How are you feeling? And don’t give me the ‘I’m fine’ bullshit you’ve been feeding everyone else.”
I hesitated. This man was supposedly my brother-in-law. Supposedly family. But I didn’t know him. I didn’t know if I could trust him with the truth.
“Overwhelmed,” I admitted finally. “Confused. Scared.”
Noah nodded. “That’s fair. You woke up in a strange place with no memories and strangers claiming to be your family. I’d be scared too.”
“You don’t seem like strangers,” I said slowly. “You all seem... familiar. In a way I can’t explain. My body recognizes you even if my brain doesn’t.”
“That’s the mate bond,” Noah said. “And pack bonds. They run deeper than memory. Even if your brain forgot us, your soul didn’t.”
He crouched down in front of my wheelchair so we were at eye level, his green eyes serious.
“Listen, Lina. I know you don’t remember me. I know you don’t remember any of us. But I need you to know that whatever you need, I’m here. We’re all here.” He paused, his jaw tightening. “You brought happiness back into this family. Before you came along, Knox was drowning in guilt and grief. Our brother died and Knox blamed himself and he was just... gone. Empty. And then you showed up with your sarcasm and your coffee and your stubborn refusal to take any of his bullshit, and you brought him back to life.”
My throat tightened.
“So I’ll be damned if I let anyone make you feel bad,” Noah continued. “I’ll be damned if I let anyone hurt you or scare you or make you feel like you don’t belong here. You’re my sister, Lina. Memory or no memory. And I protect my family.”
I stared at him, this man I didn’t know, and felt a strange ache in my chest. Not fear. Not confusion. Envy.
I was envious of my past self. Envious of the woman who had earned this kind of loyalty, this kind of love. She had these amazing people around her. This devoted husband, this fierce brother-in-law, these beautiful children, this whole community that clearly adored her.
I wanted that. I wanted to be that woman again. I wanted to remember why they all loved me so much.
“Thank you, Noah,” I said quietly.
He smiled and stood up just as Knox emerged from the bathroom in fresh clothes. Knox took over pushing my wheelchair without a word, and we headed out into the hallway.
The hospital was quiet at this hour, the corridors empty except for the occasional nurse or security guard. We passed through a maze of turns until we reached a door marked “Security” and Knox pushed me inside.
The room was filled with monitors, each showing different areas of the hospital. Hunt was there, leaning against a desk with his tattooed arms crossed. And in the corner, hands cuffed to a chair, sat a woman.
She was beautiful in a cold, polished way. Dark hair, perfect makeup, expensive clothes. She looked out of place here, too fancy for a hospital security room.
“Check that,” Hunt said, nodding at one of the monitors.
A video was playing on the screen. It showed a hallway, the camera positioned to capture anyone coming or going from my room. I watched as the dark-haired woman walked down the corridor and pushed open my door, disappearing inside. She walked outside for a few seconds then back into the room again. The timestamp ticked forward. One minute. Two. Then the door burst open and she came running out, pure panic on her face, and fled down the hallway.
The whole thing took less than three minutes.
“What the fuck did you do, Isabella?” Knox growled.
Isabella. The name meant nothing to me.
