Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted - Chapter 308

Chapter 308: Ava: Get His Memories Back
“Lucas and his team were outnumbered,” Sister Miriam continues, her eyes flickering to Lucas. He remains stoic, but I can feel the tension radiating from him. “They managed to evacuate most of the civilians, but the fighting was…” She pauses, looking thoughtful. “Brutal.”

I swallow hard, my imagination filling in the blanks with scenes of chaos and bloodshed. My grip on Lucas’s hand tightens.

“In the midst of the battle, he pushed himself beyond his limits. He tapped into a power most alphas cannot access without severe consequences.”

My brows pull together. “What do you mean?”

Sister Miriam’s gaze is intense as she looks at me. “There’s a reason alphas are so revered, Ava. They possess abilities that go beyond what ordinary wolves can do. But accessing those abilities comes at a cost.”

I shiver at the implications of her words. “What kind of cost?”

“The deeper an alpha delves into their power, the more they risk losing themselves to their wolf,” Sister Miriam explains. “It’s a delicate balance. Push too far, and the human side can be overwhelmed. The human psyche is not meant for the power a Lycan wields. Not even this weakened version of Lycans you have become.”

“So he…?” I glance at Lucas, who returns my stare with an impassive expression. He remembers none of this; it’s like talking about a stranger.

For the first time, I’m grateful he doesn’t have his memories. How traumatic it must have been.

“I’m sure your alpha had no idea what he was doing. None of you know your true heritage. But it’s still a knowledge deep inside your souls; something your wolves are aware of, even if they don’t realize it. He pushed himself to the brink to save his pack and the civilians. He unleashed a power that decimated his attackers, but in doing so, he nearly lost himself entirely.”

I struggle to process this information.

It’s as if she’s giving me words, but they just flow over me like water, impossible to understand.

“When the dust settled,” Sister Miriam says, “Lucas was found unconscious, barely clinging to life. His physical injuries were severe, but it was the damage to his psyche that was most concerning.”

“His memories,” I whisper.

I can’t fathom the power.

Sister Miriam nods. “In order to protect himself from being consumed by his wolf, Lucas’s mind retreated. It locked away not just the memories of the attack, but everything that made him who he was.”

“And his wolf?” I ask, though I suspect I already know the answer.

“Locked away as well,” Sister Miriam confirms. “It cannot be allowed free reign without Lucas’ human side to temper it. So now, they’re separated—neither able to reach the other.”

Lucas remained impassive through the vampire’s recounting of events. Even Selene is silent in my head, leaving me to sort through it all.

Sister Miriam sips at her coffee, gazing out the window and leaving me to process.

I squeeze Lucas’ hand, seeking comfort in his touch. His fingers tighten around mine, a reflexive response that sends a flutter through my chest. But when I look at his face, I see no recognition, no understanding of the weight of Sister Miriam’s words.

He’s unfazed, as if we’re discussing the weather rather than the near-loss of his humanity.

The bond between us is still, serene.

Grimoire, on the other hand, is still insistently tugging at me.

I turn to Sister Miriam, feigning a calm I don’t possess. “How do we fix this? How can we get his memories back?”

Sister Miriam’s crimson eyes meet mine, her expression grave. “It’s not a simple process, Ava. The mind is a delicate thing, especially when there are two involved.”

“But you know of a way.” I lean forward. “You think you know how we can do it, right?”

Sister Miriam sighs, setting her coffee mug on the table. “The most straightforward method would be to trigger your memories through intense emotional experiences. Recreating moments from your past, exposing you to familiar scents or sounds—anything that might jog your subconscious.”

“That doesn’t sound too risky,” I say, a glimmer of hope rising in my chest.

“The risk lies in the unpredictability,” Sister Miriam counters. “We don’t know which memories might surface first. If the wrong memory is triggered—say, the trauma of the battle—it could send Lucas into a downward spiral, potentially causing more harm than good.”

My hope deflates like a punctured balloon. “What other options do we have?”

Sister Miriam’s face goes blank. “There are magical methods we could explore. Spells designed to unlock hidden memories, bridging the gap between conscious and subconscious minds.”

“But?” Lucas asks calmly, as if this isn’t his life we’re talking about.

“Magic always comes with a price.”

Grimoire’s presence pulses erratically within me, making it hard to focus.

“What do you mean by ‘a price’?” I ask, wondering how bad it must be for her to beat around the bush.

Sister Miriam’s crimson eyes lock onto mine, her expression grave. “Magic, especially magic that deals with the mind, requires balance. To restore Lucas’s memories, we would need to offer something of equal value.”

I swallow hard, a knot forming in my stomach. “Something from Lucas?”

She nods slowly. “Yes. The magic would require a sacrifice from him—something deeply personal, something tied to his very essence.”

What could he possibly give up that would be worth his memories? I glance at him, studying his face. He looks calm, almost detached, as if we’re discussing someone else entirely.

“What kind of sacrifice are we talking about?” Lucas asks, his voice steady.

Sister Miriam sighs, her gaze flickering between us. “It could be many things. A cherished memory, a defining personality trait, even a portion of his power as an alpha. The magic seeks balance—to give back what was lost, it must take something in return.”

The thought of Lucas losing any part of himself, even to regain his memories, feels wrong on a fundamental level.

I open my mouth to protest the unfairness, but Grimoire’s presence suddenly flares within me, sending a jolt of energy through my body. The sensation is so intense that I gasp, my free hand flying to my chest.

“Ava?” Lucas’s voice is laced with concern. “What’s wrong?”

Grimoire’s energy pulses erratically, making it hard to concentrate on Sister Miriam’s words. It’s as if he’s trying to tell me something, but the message is garbled, lost in the chaos of his frantic energy. “Hold on.”