Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted - Chapter 273

Chapter 273: Ava: My Lucas
The hospital is a scurry of activity, more than I expected considering its small size.

Nurses and doctors rush through the long hallway, their footsteps echoing. The ‘Staff Only’ door behind the reception desk is in constant motion, barely staying shut for more than a few seconds at a time.

Kellan leans in close to the receptionist, speaking in hushed tones. This woman’s different from the one we encountered earlier, but her demeanor towards Kellan is just as warm. A hint of a smile plays at the corners of her mouth as she nods along to whatever he’s saying.

Lisa’s going to be pissed, once she finds out Kellan’s her mate. She’s not one to share.

Hopefully she gets here soon. The need to see her is only second to my gnawing ache without Lucas by my side.

“Ava.” Kellan’s voice cuts through my musings. “This way.”

With each step, my heart rate picks up. Finally. I can finally see my mate.

The bond within my chest sings in my veins.

Deep breaths, I remind myself. In through the nose, out through the mouth. It doesn’t do much to calm the lightheadedness that’s creeping in, making the fluorescent lights overhead seem too bright, too harsh.

It’s as if every pair of eyes in this hospital is trained on me, judging my every move. I know it’s ridiculous. These people are far too busy with their own tasks to care about some random woman walking down the hall. But the paranoia clings to me like a second skin, making my palms sweat and my steps falter.

Get it together, Ava. You’re being ridiculous.

We come to a stop outside a closed door. My breath catches in my throat.

Kellan raises his hand and knocks, the sound impossibly loud in the quiet hallway.

“Enter.” Lucas’ voice, usually a source of comfort, now sends a chill down my spine. It’s cold, brusque, lacking any of the warmth I’ve come to associate with him.

My heart does a somersault in my chest.

I step into the room, and my world narrows to the man on the bed. The bond in my chest flares to life, a supernova of emotion that steals my breath and sets my heart racing.

My mate.

But the sight of him makes my heart constrict painfully. He looks… broken. Exhausted. One leg is encased in a stark white cast, his opposite arm secured in a sling. Bandages crisscross his exposed skin, a patchwork of white against his usual bronze. The strong, invincible alpha I know is nowhere to be seen.

Why is his healing so slow?

I drink in every detail, cataloging the changes, the injuries. My fingers itch to touch him, to soothe, to heal. But I’m rooted to the spot, frozen by the look in his eyes.

There’s nothing. No spark of recognition, no hint of the intensity that usually blazes between us. He regards me with the same polite disinterest he might show a nurse or orderly. A stranger.

My heart stumbles, tripping over itself as the reality of the situation crashes down on me. He doesn’t know me. My mate, the other half of my soul, is looking at me like I’m nobody.

Can’t he sense our fated bond?

Or has that disappeared for him?

“Lucas.” Kellan’s voice breaks the silence as he steps up behind me. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck,” Lucas replies, his voice gruff. “Who’s this?”

The words are like a physical blow. I struggle to breathe, to keep my face neutral even as everything inside me is screaming.

“This is Ava,” Kellan says, his tone careful. “She’s your mate, Lucas.”

Lucas’ eyebrows furrow, confusion etching itself across his features. “My mate?” He looks at me again, more intently this time, but there’s still no flash of recognition. “I don’t think so.”

“That’s okay,” Kellan assures him quickly. “The doctors said your memory might take some time to come back. Ava’s been worried sick about you.”

I force myself to step closer to the bed, summoning a smile that feels brittle and false on my face. “Hi, Lucas,” I manage, hating how small and uncertain my voice sounds. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”

His eyes roam over my face, searching for something. I hold my breath, hoping against hope that something will click, that he’ll suddenly remember everything. But after a moment, he just nods. “I’m sorry,” he says, and the genuine regret in his voice is almost worse than indifference. “I wish I could remember you.”

“It’s okay,” I lie, even as my heart splinters. “You’ve been through a lot. Your memory will come back.”

I perch on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle him. Up close, the extent of his injuries is even more apparent. Bruises mottle his skin in shades of purple and yellow. There’s a nasty gash above his left eyebrow, held together with neat stitches.

“Can I…?” I gesture vaguely, wanting to touch him but unsure if it’s welcome.

Lucas hesitates for a moment, then nods. I reach out, my hand trembling slightly as I brush my fingers over his uninjured arm. The contact sends a jolt through me, our bond humming to life. But Lucas shows no reaction, and I pull back, trying to hide my disappointment.

“Kellan tells me we are… close,” Lucas says, his tone cautious. “I’m sorry I can’t remember. This must be difficult for you.”

A hysterical laugh bubbles up in my throat, but I swallow it down. Difficult doesn’t even begin to cover it. “It’s not your fault,” I assure him. “I’m just glad you’re alive.”

And I am. The relief of seeing him awake and talking, even if he doesn’t remember me, is overwhelming. But it’s tangled up with a grief so profound I can barely breathe around it. How do I mourn someone who’s right in front of me?

“Do you… do you remember anything?” I can’t help but ask, hope and dread warring in my chest.

Lucas frowns, concentration etching lines across his forehead. “Bits and pieces,” he admits. “I remember being alpha. Fighting. But it’s all jumbled up. Nothing specific.”

I nod, trying to hide my disappointment. “That’s a good start,” I say, injecting false cheer into my voice. “I’m sure the rest will come back soon.”

“So,” he says, clearing his throat. “Tell me about us. How did we meet?”

I freeze, panic clawing at my throat. How do I even begin to explain our complicated history? The rejection, the misunderstandings, and how I pushed him away for so long?

“It’s a long story,” I hedge. I’ll tell him. I will. But maybe not in the first ten minutes of us finally being together again. “Maybe we should start with something simpler. Like… your favorite food?”

Lucas raises an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. It’s so achingly familiar that for a moment, I can almost pretend everything’s normal. “Is how we met really that bad?”

A startled laugh escapes me. “No, not bad. Just complicated. We didn’t exactly get off to the best start.”

“Now I’m intrigued,” Lucas says, and for a moment, I see a flash of the man I know. Curious, determined, unwilling to let things go.