by Noah Harris
He was just as Dylan remembered, which shouldn’t really have been a surprise. After all, not much time had passed and he hadn’t been physically hurt. There was really no reason for Dylan to expect him to look any different. He still had the same hair, golden and swept back, longer than Dylan’s but it suited him. His strong jaw and angular, kind face were the same. Blue eyes, piercing and kind, seeing everything but gentle all the same.He stood tall and relaxed, stepping into the room behind Arulean without hesitation. He wore jeans that hugged his legs in the best way and a shirt that was loose enough to be comfortable but tight across his broad shoulders, hugging his torso. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, exposing his strong forearms. His hands were in his pockets, and he looked laidback and casual.
Dylan recognized the smile on his lips, it was the one he wore when he was completely at ease. It was welcoming and warm, drawing people into a sense of security and easing the tension of whatever situation he walked into.
He was beautiful. He was familiar. He made Dylan’s heart pound painfully against his ribs. Made his breath shallow and quick. Made every nerve ending in his body spark as energy crackled over his skin. His inner wolf paced, omega calling out to his alpha, his husband, his mate.
There was no response, and when Blake looked at him, it was casual and friendly and welcoming, but it wasn’t familiar. There was no recognition lighting up his blue eyes. None of the warmth that Dylan was so used to receiving from him. No cocky smirk or teasing voice. He didn’t open his arms to Dylan. He didn’t reach for him.
Blake stood just inside the door, glancing between Arulean, Rajiah, and Dylan.
Though Dylan only looked at Blake, afraid that if he looked away, Blake might disappear, he was aware that the dragons were watching the two of them carefully. He was certain that they, too, were holding their breath. They were all waiting and watching for some sign that Blake’s memory might have recovered. A spark. A gasp. They didn’t know if it would be painful or not. They didn’t know what to expect. But they waited. And waited.
And then Dylan couldn’t wait anymore. Anticipation and nerves were tightening his chest. Squeezing the air out of his lungs into a breathless, “Hey.”
Blake’s eyes rounded on him, looking him over from head to toe. Dylan felt his skin break out in goosebumps under the intensity of his stare. There was a slight pinch to his brows, a dimming of his smile that might have been missed had Dylan not been watching him so intently. There was an ounce of confusion in that gaze, but it couldn’t quite hide the flare of interest. It made something light up in Dylan’s chest, easing the tight knot that threatened to choke him. There was also something darker that Dylan couldn’t interpret, lurking in the depths of his eyes.
Then he blinked, and everything cleared. Blake’s smile quirked into a smirk, friendly and welcoming, but without the familiar warmth of recognition. He took several steps forward, holding out a hand. “You must be the friend Arulean wanted me to meet.”
Dylan moved, acting on impulse, stepping around the coffee table to meet him. He took his hand automatically. Dylan was intimately familiar with Blake’s hands, the long fingers, the smoothness, the curves and calluses of his palms. He knew how his hands fit in Blake’s. He knew what those hands felt like on every inch of his body, both in their rough, passionate embraces in their bed and the tender, gentle touches of love.
He knew Blake’s hands better than he knew his own, and yet the hand felt strange and foreign in his.
It made his hair stand on end, alarms blaring in his head, his inner wolf caught between a growl and a whine. His omega ached.
“I’m Blake,” he said, completely unaware that Dylan had said his name with every emotion he could imbue into that one word.
“Dylan,” he sounded breathless and felt hollow. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Rajiah inching toward Arulean, both of their bodies sagging.
“It’s nice to meet you, Dylan.” he said, and for a moment, his smile faded. He didn’t let go of Dylan’s hand, and Dylan didn’t pull away. He was caught between wanting to shrink away from the unfamiliar touch and cling to the echoes of familiarity. The pinch in Blake’s brows was back, lips pursing slightly as his eyes narrowed a fraction. Then his expression cleared a little, giving Dylan a more genuine smile, small and apologetic. He tilted his head to the side, eyes searching. “Say, do I...know you from somewhere?”
Hope flickered in Dylan’s chest, it felt small and warm as opposed to his otherwise numb state of mind. He felt himself stand a little straighter, wracking his mind for something to say. What might prompt Blake’s memory? Something small. Something...like when Blake first fell for him. “We grew up in the same pack.”
Blake blinked, surprise blanking his face before confusion colored his features again. “Really? I’m sure I would have remembered you. It’s a big pack, but I could have sworn I knew everyone our age...”
Dylan quirked a small, wry smile. “I’m a few years older than you.”
“Really?” Blake gave him another once over, nodding, a small smirk on his lips as he said, “I wouldn’t have guessed.” His smile faded a fraction, recognition lighting up behind his eyes as he straightened. “Wait...Dylan?” Dylan nodded, lips parting as his breath froze. He could see the two dragon’s stiffen out of the corner of his eye. A small smile formed on Blake’s face. “My brother dated a guy named Dylan when we were teenagers. Was that you?”
The small ember of hope in Dylan’s chest was snuffed out, stomped into the dust. He felt like the floor had been torn out from beneath his feet, leaving him with the gut-lurching weightlessness that came before the fall. “Yeah,” he didn’t bother to hide how crestfallen he sounded. He frowned, brows furrowing. “You don’t remember?” His voice was pleading, but it fell on deaf ears.
Blake shook his head, offering him a small apologetic smile as he dropped his hand. Dylan’s arm fell limp to his side. “Sorry, I’m afraid I don’t.”
“Blake,” Rajiah said, stepping forward and snapping them both out of the moment. Dylan felt like he couldn’t breathe, his senses were on high alert. One hand automatically wrapped around his middle. They both turned to the approaching dragon, Blake’s eyes curious and Dylan’s pleading. Rajiah gave him a small, gentle smile. “Do you remember the spell you took for me? From Abel?”
Blake quirked an eyebrow. “Of course. It didn’t do anything.” He shrugged, hand returning to his pocket. His smirk was cocky. “He must have been all out of juice at that point. He knocked me out, but that was it.”
Rajiah’s brows pinched, lips pursing as he sighed. “I’m afraid that’s not the case.”
Blake’s smirk fell, replaced by a confused frown. “What do you mean?”
“What Rajiah is trying to say, is that we have not been completely honest with you about the effects of the spell that hit you.” Arulean said, stepping up to stand next to Rajiah, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Rajiah leaned into him, and Dylan felt a pang of jealousy. Arulean pinned Blake with his dark eyes, and Blake met them unflinchingly. “It was a memory spell.”
“A memory spell?”
The dragon alpha nodded. “It was a specific memory spell. It was Abel’s last attempt to hurt me by removing my mate’s memories of me.”
Blake’s smile was back. “Well then it’s a good thing it hit me instead. I don’t have a mate to forget about.”
Both dragons pinned Blake with a pained look, awkwardly shifting their weight as their eyes flickered to Dylan before settling back on Blake.
“Or...” he said slowly, smile falling, expression crumbling. His voice was softer and strained as he read between the lines. He always had been good at reading the subtext. “I did...and the spell...made me forget...”
The dragons only nodded solemnly.
Blake turned then, slow and calculated. He twisted in place, wide eyes settling once again on Dylan, filled with panic and surprise. His lips were parted, his jaw was slack.
Dylan gave him a
small, strained smile, lifting his hand in an awkward wave. He tried to hide the fact that his world was crumbling around him, even as he tried to build a wall around his heart.
The look of utter shock and fear on Blake’s face was burned into Dylan’s mind, and he knew it would haunt him for days to come. It was full of pain, of guilt, of wary understanding, of pity. But there was no fondness, no warmth, no joy, no love.
It hit Dylan like a punch to his lungs, a weightless feeling sinking in and making him feel like he was falling.
Blake didn’t remember him.
Blake didn’t remember any of the feelings he felt for him.
Blake didn’t love him.
_______________________
“Safe travels, Blake,” Rajiah pulled Blake in for a tight hug.
Blake bent his taller frame to wrap Rajiah up in a hug, hooking his chin over the dragon’s shoulder. “You take care of the big man, alright?” he said, playful smile on his lips as he pulled away.
“I will.” Rajiah said, hands lingering on Blake’s arms as he smiled up at him.
Blake’s eyes flickered to the side, where Dylan stood at a respectful distance. He tried to pretend he wasn’t intensely watching the goodbyes, but he was. Arms crossed over his chest, half turned so his body faced Arulean’s private jet, he watched them out of the corner of his eye. His senses were on high alert, allowing him to hear their conversation despite the distance.
“And...my mate,” Blake said, a whisper that Dylan barely managed to hear. It was said with a sort of odd reverence, a disbelief, like he couldn’t quite believe it but wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea.
It made Dylan tense slightly, ears perking up and heat prickling beneath his skin. He knew it was said as more of a formality than anything, an obligation that had been forced upon Blake, but it fanned the ember of hope in his chest nonetheless.
“I will.” Rajiah’s reply was just as soft. He squeezed Blake’s arms before letting go and stepping back.
Arulean stepped up in his place, reaching out an arm. Blake clasped his forearm, leaning in and wrapping his other arm around the taller man’s shoulders. “I wish you the best of luck,” Arulean said, pulling back but not quite letting go. “I hope the witches are able to find a cure.”
Blake’s smile wavered. “Me, too.”
Blake had taken the news of his memory loss in his stride. Mostly though, he had shut down. Dylan had thrown up a wall and he now wore a constant mask, letting none of his emotions or thoughts show in case they explained everything. They had left out the part about Lily and Dylan’s pregnancy. It was bad enough that Blake would no doubt feel guilty for not remembering his mate without dragging their child into it. He had given Dylan one last fleeting look before asking for time to digest everything. They had let him go.
Dylan was only thankful that he hadn’t outright rejected him.
He had, however, come to them two days later and announced that he needed time. Returning to the witches had been Blake’s idea. He hoped that being with them would help them figure out a way to lift the hex on his memory.
He didn’t need to say it aloud for Dylan to understand that he also needed space.
No matter how much it hurt, Dylan understood. Blake had no memory of him, not even from their childhood. To be certain of your own past, then being told you had a mate, a husband, and an omega that you couldn’t remember...it was a lot to take in. He knew Blake. He knew he felt guilty.
He knew it was tearing the alpha up to know that they had a bond, but being unable to feel it. To know that he had loved Dylan, but didn’t feel it anymore.
It hurt more than Dylan let show. He tried to be strong. He knew he had to be strong. For Blake. For Lily. To keep himself from falling apart.
Blake moved toward him, dragging him out of his reverie. Dylan turned to face him and he stopped a couple of feet away, close enough to be personable without being too intimate. “Sooo...” Blake glanced off to the side, scratching the back of his neck.
“So...” Dylan echoed, armed crossed, eyes on the ground between them.
“I guess...this is goodbye for now.”
Dylan tried to swallow the lump in his throat, unable to hide the hoarseness in his voice. “Guess so.”
“Look, Dylan...” Blake reached for him, taking his hand in both of his own. Dylan lifted his gaze, meeting Blake’s uncertain eyes. The alpha offered him a small smile. “I know this isn’t...ideal. But hopefully...hopefully the witches can fix this.” He squeezed Dylan’s fingers lightly. “I know I don’t remember much, but you seem...like a very good man.”
Dylan tried not to flinch at how that sounded like an apology and a rejection wrapped into one.
“Anyone would be lucky to have you. And I...would like to be that man.” It sounded formal. Like an obligation. Like their parents had set them up in an arranged marriage. It didn’t sound at all like the man who had stolen his first kiss from Dylan’s lips. The man who had waited years for him. The man who had never given up on him. The man who had been patient with him. The man who looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky.
There was not an ounce of love in his gorgeous blue eyes, in the honey of his words. Dylan never realized just how much Blake’s affection coated every single one of their interactions until it was gone.
He had taken it all for granted, had taken Blake for granted, and now it was gone. Despite standing right in front of him, Blake was gone. Blake wasn’t his anymore.
Dylan felt like his heart had been hollowed out, replaced by an empty shell that beat out of programmed habit rather than purpose.
He nodded, offering Blake a weak smile that he didn’t quite feel. “The witches will figure it out.”
He hoped. He really, really hoped.
Blake’s smirk quirked into something just a hair shy of familiar, there was a small sparkle of humor in his eyes as he tilted his head. “Try not to fall for anyone else while I’m gone.” He said, teasing and light, and for a moment, it almost felt normal.
Dylan’s smile was a fraction more believable. “I’ll do my best.”
Blake stepped back, pulling away from him, their hands slowly slipping apart. Dylan fought the urge to hold on tight. Letting him go was the hardest thing he had ever done.
Blake turned back to the plane, jogging over to the stairs and grabbing his bags before climbing the steps. At the door, he turned to wave to them. Dylan lifted his hand in goodbye, feeling it twist in his gut.
He let Rajiah drag him back to a safe distance as the plane started up, and he watched with his heart in his stomach as it took off. He stood there, watching it disappear over the horizon. Rajiah and Arulean stood with him, auras and scents warm and comforting, but he barely noticed.
Dylan felt as if there were a hole in his chest. He felt numb. Cold.
He wrapped his arms around his swollen belly, focusing on it until he could swear he felt a heartbeat. He used it to ground himself. Remind himself that he wasn’t alone.
He could only hope that the witches could fix this.
Though it was the hardest thing he had ever done, and though he felt the warm prickle of tears welling up in his eyes, body shaking as sobs ripped out of him, tearing at his heart and lungs...he loved Blake, so he had let him go.
Now he could only wait and hope that Blake loved him enough to come back.
Author Notes
Will Blake’s memory ever return? How is Dylan going to manage a pregnancy while trying to help the love of his life remember what they shared between them?
Find out what happens next and receive your own FREE starter library by joining my newsletter here or connect on Facebook Messenger. Rest assured that your email won’t be shared, spammed, or revealed. But you will find out how this love story ends.
Credits
I have reserved this space to express my thanks to the ones who found the strength and courage to criticize this book constructively.
April Calandro
Denise<
br />
Everett Jones
Jo Bird
Nichole Reeder
Nicole Davis
Nic Baker
Sheryl Howard
I can’t thank you enough for all your efforts, for extending your talents, and for thinking of giving the best experience to all the readers. I will be eternally grateful.
Lost Omega wouldn’t be possible with you. Here’s the fruit of your sleepless nights.