#Chapter 8: Ghosts of the Past

MIA Six Years Later The evening was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and earth. I stepped out onto the balcony, watching my son Aiden chase after Logan with wild laughter. Aiden was only five, but even at his young age, his Alpha blood was unmistakable. He was strong, fast, and fiercely protective of those he cared about. But unlike his father, Aiden was also gentle, his laughter like music that soothed the scars on my heart. His dark curls bounced with every step, and his golden-brown eyes—so much like Derek’s—glowed in the fading light. A pang of emotion tightened my chest. Over the past six years, I had built a quiet life, shielding myself from the world I had once known. My family had welcomed me home, though my memories had never fully returned. Some came in fleeting glimpses, fragmented dreams that left me grasping at something just out of reach. I was seeing a doctor that specialized in memory, on loan from Logan’s small pack, and each day the world I lived