Chapter 4: My Memories Are Returning

CLAIRE'S POV

At that moment, Ethan held me tightly in his arms, while outside the door stood Kane.

Ethan’s hand rested on my neck, his calloused fingers brushing against the artery in my throat, sending a shiver through my body. He lowered his voice and whispered, “Say you’re fine.”

“I’m fine,” I obediently replied.

Kane didn’t seem convinced. “Can I come in to check on you?”

Ethan tightened his grip around me, making it difficult to breathe. “No need… It’s not convenient. I’ll be fine after some rest.”

The sound of Kane’s voice lingered outside the door, and I was so tense that I didn’t even dare to breathe.

After what felt like an eternity, Kane finally relented. “Alright then. If you’re still unwell tomorrow, take the day off to rest.”

His footsteps faded away, but Ethan didn’t let go of me immediately. His lips brushed against my ear as he spoke in a low, menacing tone. “Seems like you’re quite special to my dear uncle. Why do you think that is? He’s never cared so much for a lowly Omega like you.”

The heat of his breath on my skin raised goosebumps all over me.

“I don’t know…” I admitted, equally baffled.

But the pain and weakness in my body left me no energy to think it through. Ethan’s blood-red eyes roamed over me before he gripped my chin and poured a glowing green liquid into my mouth.

The bitter liquid coated my tongue, tasting like dried bark and dirt. I nearly gagged.

“This is poison I got from a witch,” Ethan said coldly. “If you dare tell anyone about me, your skin will rot, bleed, and you’ll die a slow, agonizing death.”

With those words, he disappeared from the room.

Desperately, I tried to spit out the liquid, but it was too late. My body was a wreck—burns, whip marks, and nerves stretched to their limit. The moment I relaxed, darkness swept over me like a tidal wave.

I had a dream.

In it, I was standing in a desolate forest. Corpses were scattered everywhere, houses burned to the ground, and the agonized moans of the injured filled the air. I was using my power, desperately trying to heal them.

“Claire, stop. This isn’t going to work. We’re draining our energy too fast,” a gentle female voice sounded in my mind.

“Lina, I have to save them. I can’t just stand by and watch them die,” I replied.

“But if you keep going, I’ll be forced into a deep slumber! Don’t you want revenge for your aunt and cousin? Don’t you want your father to know the truth? You’re the rightful heir to the Dark Shadow Pack…”

Before Lina could finish, an explosion shattered the scene. The force threw me off my feet.

...

I jolted awake, gasping for air.

Pain tore through my body, threatening to rip me apart. The cramped, dark room felt suffocating.

Why did the scenes in my dream feel so real? It was as if I had truly lived through them. I could almost smell the blood and the charred remains of the forest.

Could I really heal people? Was Lina my wolf? And what connection did I have to the Dark Shadow Pack?

The harder I tried to think, the more my head throbbed, threatening to explode. I had no choice but to stop.

I glanced at the clock. It was already 6 a.m. Despite my condition, my internal clock forced me out of bed.

I pulled out my first-aid kit from under the bed and, as always, brought it and a set of clean clothes into the bathroom.

Placing everything on the counter, I stared at my reflection in the mirror.

I was too thin, my face hollow and pale, with large eyes and a pointed chin.

Congratulations, Claire. You’ve survived another day.

I swallowed some painkillers and began to undress. Damn it. The wounds had stuck to my clothes, and as I peeled them off, the scabs tore open, fresh blood spilling out.

Old scars overlapped with new ones, creating a grotesque patchwork on my body.

Turning my back to the mirror, I bit down hard and began the agonizing process of treating my wounds.

Once bandaged and dressed in clean clothes, I forced myself to ignore the pain and fatigue as I walked into the kitchen.

Resting wasn’t an option. If I didn’t prepare breakfast on time, Ethan would lose his mind.

In the kitchen, I busied myself with the morning meal.

Ethan had a sweet tooth, so I made chocolate pancakes, two fried eggs, and a bowl of corn porridge for him. For Kane, unsure of his preferences, I prepared avocado toast, fried eggs, and bacon.

As I carried the breakfast into the living room, a sudden sense of dread washed over me. It was that feeling again—an inexplicable wave of anxiety.

The next moment, I saw Kane descending the stairs.

Dressed in a black shirt that clung to his tall, imposing frame, he exuded an air of authority, like a king of the shadows. His every step radiated an undeniable presence. His piercing gray eyes locked onto me with an intensity that made my heart race and my breath catch.

It was strange. I wasn’t scared—rather, I felt… happy?

I wasn’t afraid of Kane. On the contrary, his presence brought me a sense of comfort.

“Are you alright, Claire?” His deep voice broke the silence, calm yet laced with subtle concern.

“I’m fine. Thank you for asking,” I murmured, lowering my head.

As I placed the breakfast on the table, I could feel Kane’s gaze lingering on me.

“You look pale,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “And there’s a strong scent of blood on you. Did Ethan… do something to you?”

My heart pounded wildly. The sound of blood rushing in my ears drowned out everything else.

He noticed!

Would he help me? Could I trust him?

But the poison Ethan forced me to swallow ensured that I couldn’t reveal the truth.

At that moment, Ethan’s voice rang out, lighthearted and mocking. “What could I possibly do to her, Uncle? Don’t joke like that. I’ve always been generous to her. Claire, come sit and have some breakfast with us.”

Ethan descended the stairs, waving me over to sit beside him.

“You were injured yesterday, yet you still got up early to make breakfast. You’ve worked hard. Come, sit with me,” he said, his voice gentle but carrying an unmistakable warning.

Taking a deep breath, I suppressed my fear and walked toward him.

Ethan scooped some of his corn porridge into a bowl and handed it to me. “Eat. I’ll have the servants prepare more food.”

His sudden kindness made my hand tremble as I held the spoon. It was worse than if he had yelled at me.

The heavy scent of his cologne made my head spin, and all the while, Kane’s watchful gaze never left me.

Why did he care so much about a lowly servant like me?

Suddenly, I felt a hot hand slide onto my thigh.

I froze, trembling.

It was Ethan.

His hand moved upward, boldly slipping between my legs and squeezing hard.

A wave of terror and humiliation crashed over me, and I instinctively jumped out of my seat, forgetting the consequences of defying him.

I just needed to get away from him—this shameless monster!

But before I could move far, a strong arm wrapped around my waist.

Above me, Kane’s voice rumbled, steady and calm. “What’s wrong?”