chapter 3: No memory

Alana

If we got caught, we would be punished.

Amaya said harshly.

But something inside me wouldn't let me leave him there. I wasn't sure if it was instinct or foolishness, but the thought of abandoning him didn't sit right with me.

"We need to move, now," I whispered, glancing around the darkening forest. The sun had already dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of orange and violet.

Eve shifted nervously from foot to foot. "Alana, this is insane. If the guards catch us sneaking in a rogue…"

"They won't," I cut in, my voice firm despite the rapid beating of my heart. "We'll take the back route through the east border. The patrols won't be there until later."

Amaya exhaled sharply but nodded. "Fine. But if anyone asks, this was your idea."

I crouched beside the unconscious stranger, pressing two fingers to his throat. His pulse was weak but steady. He needed medical attention, but taking him straight to the healers wasn't an option. If the pack found out about him, they'd execute him without hesitation.

"We'll have to carry him," I said, already hooking my arms beneath his. "Help me."

Eve hesitated but eventually grabbed his legs while Amaya took his shoulders. Together, we lifted him, his dead weight making it difficult to move quickly.

Every rustling leaf, every snapping twig made my heart pound harder. My senses stretched thin, listening for any sign of approaching guards. We moved carefully, sticking close to the tree line and avoiding the main paths.

As we neared the pack's outer wall, we crouched behind a cluster of thick bushes, watching the nearest guard tower.

"Now," I whispered.

Moving as quickly as we dared, we crossed the open space and slipped through a hidden gap in the wooden wall a passage only a handful of us knew about. Once inside, we stayed close to the shadows, heading toward a cabin close to my family's house near the packhouse.

The moment we stepped through the back entrance, I exhaled in relief.

"We did it," Eve murmured, setting his legs down carefully.

"Not yet," I corrected. "We still have to keep him hidden."

I led them down the hall toward the cabin. It was meant for herbs used in battle, so people hardly visits here, so.. it would serve as a temporary hiding place. We laid the stranger on an old mattress and covered him with a thick blanket, well Eva brought one for us.

"He won't last long without proper treatment," Amaya warned.

"I know," I said. "I'll take care of him. No one comes down here but me."

Eve looked doubtful. "And when he wakes up? What if he's dangerous?"

"Then I'll deal with it," I said firmly.

Neither of them looked convinced, but they didn't argue.

"We'll bring food when we can," Amaya said. "Be careful, Alana."

Once they left, I turned my attention back to the unconscious man. His breathing was slow, his body covered in deep scratches and bruises. I cleaned his wounds as best as I could, washing away the dried blood and wrapping his torso with fresh bandages.

As I worked, I couldn't help but wonder who he was? Why was he in our territory? And why did I feel like something about him was… different?

****

Two Days Later

I had barely slept. Between sneaking food, changing his bandages, and making excuses so no one finds out, I have been really exhausted.

It was still early in the morning well after wolf crying, I sneaked to the cabin tocheck his wounds as usual, but this time was different, he wasn't in same position as yesterday but I over looked it.

I was still cleaning his arm when his fingers twitched.

I froze.

Then, his eyelids fluttered open, revealing piercing grey eyes.

I sucked in a breath. They were so cute almost… otherworldly.

For a moment, he just stared at me, confusion written all over his face. Then, he tried to sit up but groaned in pain.

"Easy," I said, pressing a hand against his chest to keep him from moving. "You're hurt."

He winced as he attempted to shift his weight. His muscles tensed beneath my fingers.

"Where… am I?" His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

I hesitated. "You're safe, you are in my pack's territory."

His gaze snapped to mine, "You shouldn't have brought me here," he muttered, shifting uncomfortably. "It's dangerous."

I raised an eyebrow. "Dangerous for you, or for me?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he let his head fall back against the pillow, exhaling slowly. I could see the struggle in his expression.

"What's your name?" I asked gently.

Silence.

His brows furrowed, his fingers twitching as though he were trying to grab hold of a memory just out of reach. His frustration was clear, "I… I don't know."

I swallowed hard. Amnesia. It wasn't unheard of after severe injuries, but it complicated things. He couldn't even tell me where he came from.

How will I know whether he was a threat to us.

I studied him for a moment, then sighed. "Well, you need a name."

His eyes flickered toward me with a curious expression.

"Until you remember, we'll call you… Pack."

It was simple, neutral. Something that wouldn't raise suspicion if overheard.

His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to protest, but after a moment, he exhaled and nodded. "Pack," he repeated, almost testing the word on his tongue. "Alright."

I offered a small smile. "Get some rest, Pack. You need it."

He didn't argue. Within minutes, his breathing evened out again, slipping back into sleep.

I stayed by his side a little longer, watching him, wondering what secrets his past held, is he pretending or did he really lost his memories.

**

Hiding Pack took up most of my time, but I still had my duties.

Growing up, I never felt alone, because my parents was always there, especially my mother.

I still remembered the nights when she would brush my hair, her gentle fingers working through the tangles as she hummed an old lullaby.

"You have your father's wild spirit," she would say, laughing softly. "But you have my heart."

She smelled of honey and wildflowers, and her embrace was my safest place. She had always been my rock, my guide, the one who understood me even when I didn't understand myself.

When I was little, I would curl up in her lap, listening to her stories about our ancestors, warriors, leaders, healers. She made our history come alive, filling my heart with dreams of adventure.

"One day, Alana, you will carve your own story," she had told me once, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "And I have no doubt it will be extraordinary."

She had always believed in me, even when I doubted myself.

And that belief? It was the reason I couldn't let Pack die in that river. It was why I had risked everything to bring him here.

Because she had taught me that doing what was right wasn't always easy.

And sometimes, it was dangerous.