Chapter 116: The Stranger's Tale

Julian tried to concentrate on Willow's words, but it was a struggle.

He knew he should be paying her full attention, given she seemed to know him—the him he couldn't remember, the person he was before his memory was wiped clean.

But every few moments, his eyes would drift towards Maya. She was fuming. No, ~fuming~ didn't quite capture the intensity of her rage.

Maya didn't even look his way; her gaze was locked on Willow, the girl who had embraced him.

It was a wonder Maya hadn't attacked her yet. He figured Olivia had something to do with that.

From what he could tell, Willow hadn't shared much about him with Maya and the others. Olivia had filled in the gaps with pieces of his story.

Ideally, he should be the one telling it and explaining everything to Willow, but he couldn't find the words.

It seemed like speaking directly to Willow might set Maya ablaze.

Maya attacking an innocent girl wasn't the best outcome, but he'd be lying if he said it didn't stroke his ego.

She had put up a barrier between them, and for once, her emotions were overpowering her to the point where she couldn't ~hide~.

“Nothing?”

The room fell silent. No one spoke.

Julian pulled his gaze from Maya and looked around the room. All eyes were on him—Alex from the back with a sharp stare, Maya with arched eyebrows, and Olivia with a frown.

Hold on, were they all waiting for him to answer the question?

He turned slightly towards Willow, studying her. She looked sad. No one knew him, no one missed him. Yet this stranger he couldn't remember seemed genuinely upset by his memory loss.

“Um, yeah. Nothing. I don’t remember anything,” he admitted.

“I see,” Willow replied.

“So…” Julian started, unsure of what to say next.

Maya broke the silence.

“How well did…um,” she motioned between him and Willow, “how well did you two know each other?”

Willow pushed a lock of blood-soaked hair behind her ear, forcing a smile. “You’re his mate, right?”

“Unofficially,” Maya responded, crossing her arms defensively.

~Unofficially.~ That was a diplomatic way to put it.

“We…” Willow hesitated, folding her hands in her lap. “We were part of the same…I guess you could call it a pack.”

“You guess?”

She shrugged. “There were only four of us.”

“Four?” he asked, surprised by his own question. ~That didn’t make sense~.

“He’s right,” Alex chimed in, stepping forward. “We found more than four bodies.”

“Julian doesn’t…” Willow looked away from Alex, turning her attention to Julian. “You never liked large, traditional packs.”

“Why not?” Julian asked, puzzled that Alex was the one asking this instead of letting him do it.

Did Alex find his curiosity strange? Not everyone lived the way he did—or at least, Julian didn’t think so. It was one of those odd things he knew but didn’t know how he knew.

She clenched her fists. “Well, you see, big packs mean staying put. We…we moved around. A lot. We never stayed in one place for long.”

“That doesn’t explain all the bodies we found,” Alex countered.

“Maybe if you let her speak, she could tell us,” Julian interjected.

“And I don’t think you should be telling me what to do,” Alex shot back.

Julian was about to get up from the couch, but Olivia beat him to it. She stood in front of Alex, reaching for his hands.

“Why don’t we let the poor girl talk? Huh? She looks like she’s been through a lot, and maybe we should let her tell her story.”

Olivia had a point. Julian wasn’t sure if they could trust everything Willow was saying, but he also felt that she wasn’t a threat.

His judgment was based solely on a gut feeling, but it would have to do.

“Please ignore these two, and continue,” Olivia said to Willow, giving her a comforting smile.

“Um, sure…” Willow replied, clearly uneasy.

Julian could sense her discomfort. If it was true that he used to lead such a small pack, this might be overwhelming for her.

The mix of scents and presences must have been intimidating. He might be the only person she knew, but he no longer remembered her.

She found herself alone, much like he had been. Alone amidst a sea of unfamiliar faces.

Why did that thought bother him so much?

“Sometimes smaller packs assist each other. They exchange goods, collaborate. We were…we were in a meeting with them…” Willow paused, her gaze averted.

“And then what happened?” Julian probed.

She pursed her lips, pointing to her head.

“I wasn’t close by. I…someone ambushed me from behind, away from the meeting. I woke up like this,” Willow shared, her voice laced with vulnerability.

“I tracked your scent, ended up here. I thought someone had kidnapped you…or worse…”

Willow looked at Alex. “No offense.”

He dismissed her with a wave, but Julian noticed the tension in his eyes and the throbbing in his neck. Alex didn’t trust her, and while Julian wouldn’t openly concur, he had to admit something felt amiss.

Perhaps Willow was anxious, overwhelmed. Yet her scent gave Julian an odd feeling, as if she wasn’t being completely honest. He didn’t perceive her as a threat, so what was the problem?

“Why don’t we get you cleaned up, and then we’ll see what else you can tell us?” Olivia proposed a bit too loudly as she rose.

The idea didn’t sit well with anyone, but no one voiced their objections. The privileges of being the Alpha’s mate.

“I’ll take her,” Olivia quickly offered, gently guiding Willow with a hand on her back.

“Yeah, well. I need a walk or a drink, something,” Maya grumbled as she stood, deliberately avoiding his gaze.

~Why did that hurt?~

Alex glanced at him, then at Maya, before shifting his gaze back to his mate, who was walking away with a potential foe.

“Wait,” Alex called out to Olivia before striding quickly to join her.

~And now Julian was alone.~

He felt a pull within him.

He was torn between his primary instinct to follow Maya, even though he knew she would vent her anger on him if he approached, and a small part of him that wanted to check on Willow.

Who ~was~ she?

And why did he have a distaste for large packs? It might explain his unease in this situation, but…

If only he could fucking recall.

Maybe Willow would talk to him, but he was sure no one would leave him alone with her.

What else could he do?

Why wasn’t the damn door opening?

Maya pushed with all her might, ramming her shoulder into it repeatedly. It should have been easy, but it wouldn’t budge.

She slammed her body into it again, causing her coffee to spill from her mug, but the door remained steadfast.

What the fuck was happening?

And what was that smell?

Her nostrils flared as she detected the scent of blood. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her face turned ashen. Blood. It smelled like blood. First that girl, and now this? Something was seriously amiss.

Setting her mug down on the floor, Maya gripped the handle with both hands. She took a deep breath, bracing herself, before exerting all her strength to push the door open.

This time, it creaked open. A small victory.

Maya peeked through the opening, surveying the area ahead. Nothing. No one. But as she lowered her gaze to the porch, her eyes widened in terror.

Oh fuck. A body. A dead body. She couldn’t see the face as it was turned toward the ground, but even without seeing it…

It was disfigured.

Torn apart.

In pieces.

Whoever did this was sadistic. And it wasn’t a recent kill. The blood had turned brown and flies swarmed around what remained of the dark hair and scalp.

If she allowed herself to take it all in, she could see that limbs, or parts of them, were missing. It looked like they had been hacked off.

It was a labor of pleasure. This wasn’t a killing driven by the need for blood. It wasn’t an animal attack. No, this was precise, deliberate mutilation.

Bile surged in Maya’s throat, and she quickly turned away and covered her mouth with her hand, afraid that she might vomit.

She had seen dead bodies before. She had ripped a few apart when forced to. But it had never been for pleasure or amusement.

Killing had been a means of survival, a way to protect the people she loved.

This, however, was the work of a psychopath.

There weren’t many possible suspects.

First that girl showed up, and now this?

It had been deliberately left on their packhouse doorstep. A threat? A warning? Maya didn’t know, but it was no coincidence.

Whoever did this knew about them, knew that Julian was here. They had painted a target on their backs.

Why even give them a warning? Did the perpetrator believe they couldn’t stop him? Was it an additional layer of torment?

Maya had witnessed what he was capable of. Twice.

She was aware of their past, of the trials they’d weathered. Yet, she wasn’t sure they could emerge from this unscathed. He was aware too, and he was hiding in the shadows.

Their only resources were a man with a blank past and a girl they were supposed to trust.

It wasn’t sufficient.

~Damn it.~