The world around Saphira blurred, time itself seeming to fracture as she stared at the impossible sight before her.
“Connor?” The name barely escaped her lips, trembling on the edge of disbelief.
Niks turned to her immediately, concern flickering in his gaze. “As in your dead brother Connor?” His hands were firm but gentle as he guided her to face him, grounding her when everything inside her threatened to spiral.
She could only nod, the weight of the moment crushing against her chest. “Y-yes.” Her voice was raw, fragile. Tears spilled before she could stop them, faster than she would have liked.
Niks inhaled sharply, then turned his gaze to Finn, themand leaving his lips with certainty. “Shift.”
Finn obeyed without hesitation, fur melting away into human form. Amara was quick to hand him clothes, and Saphira watched numbly as he dressed, movements swift yet unsteady.
Then, Finn stepped forward, hesitationced in his features.
“Saphira.” He said her name as if testing reality itself. “Is that really you?”
She stepped forward as well, now standing directly in front of him, close enough to see the minute details of his expression-the disbelief, the fear, the quiet hope.
“Yes. It’s me.” She swallowed hard, the words spilling out in a rush. “How are you here? I don’t understand. You’re alive?”
The shock, the happiness, the confusion-everything tangled together, fighting for dominance in her mind.
Before he answered, Finn did the only thing that made sense. He pulled her into a tight, unrelenting embrace.
She clung to him, arms tightening around his frame, needing proof that he was real. That this moment wasn’t some cruel trick of her imagination.
“I’m here,” he murmured against her shoulder. “I think we should sit and talk.”
Niks nodded; his voice steady but understanding. “Good idea.”
He turned to the gathered pack, addressing them with quiet authority. “Thank you foring out today. Please enjoy the food and excuse us for the rest of the afternoon. We will continue the celebration of our new members another time.”
Over Finn’s shoulder, Saphira caught the expressions of those surrounding them. Sympathy, understanding-no judgment, no hesitation. Just eptance of the moment’s gravity.
As Finn released her, she turned to Niks, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Thank you.”
Niks met her gaze with a certainty that steadied her more than she cared to admit. “Come on,” he said, motioning toward the house. “We’ll go to the meeting room.”
Then, his gaze shifted to Amara and Jed. “You too.”
Niks led them toward the back of the house, his hand resting on Saphira’s back once more. She barely registered the touch this time-not because it wasn’t there, but because her mind was tangled in a web of thoughts she couldn’t unravel. Her pulse drummed beneath her skin, the pressure in her chest making her feel caged. She couldn’t shake the feeling that if she turned around now, she wouldn’t be able to retrace her steps. Not in this state. Not with her mind flickering like a dying candle.
The two double doors loomed in front of them, solid and imposing, and she barely registered the moment Niks pushed them open. The room inside wasrge, the round table in the center appearing almost ceremonial. Multiple chairs encircled it, expectant, waiting. To the right, two sofas sat before a massive firece, their presence oddly grounding. It was there that Niks directed them, but even as she moved, she felt like she was floating, as if her body wasn’t entirely hers.
She sat down stiffly, gaze darting to Jed just as he snapped his fingers toward the fire. Instantly, mes roared to life, casting golden light over their faces. Saphira stiffened, the disy making something deep within her tighten. Power. There it was-undeniable, effortless. And yet, despite everything, she still didn’t know exactly what they were. What he was. What this meant for her.
That conversation-that reckoning-wouldeter with Niks. But for now, she had to get the answers she needed from Connor, or Finn.
Saphira barely registered the heavy silence before the words escaped, raw and unrelenting. “Why didn’t youe back for me?”
It had lived within her for too long, wing at the edges of her mind. She needed the answer-now.
Finn dropped his gaze, exhaling slowly before lifting his eyes to hers. “Let me start from the beginning. It will be easier.”
She nodded, though her hands tightened on her knees, bracing herself.
“When I fell, I hit the water at such a speed that I went under and hit my head pretty bad.” He inhaled steadily, his voice threading through the quiet. “I must have been unconscious, because when I woke, I was here. With no memory.”
Saphira sucked in a sharp breath, ready to protest-to demand how that was even possible-but Niks’ hand came to rest on her thigh, warm and grounding. A signal. Wait.
She pressed her lips together, forcing herself to listen.
“I had no idea who I was,” Finn continued, his voiceced with something distant, something raw. “All I knew was that I was a wolf. Over the years, I tried to get my memories back, but at the same time, I became close to both Niks and Jed. I felt like I belonged here.”
Somewhere, Saphira had expected those words to hurt. Yet, as she looked around-at the people who had weed her without question, at the fire that burned steady before them-she realized it made sense. Because she felt the same.
Finn turned back to her, his gaze searching. “I started to get pieces back. Our parents, the pack-but none of it felt right. None of it felt like home. And then the cliff. But I couldn’t understand why it stayed fragmented.” His voice dipped lower, hesitant. “It wasn’t until moments ago, when I looked into your eyes, that my wolf remembered first. That’s why I shifted. It helped me take everything in.”
He moved forward, bending before her, the weight of his words pressing into the space between them. “You were the missing piece. If I had remembered you, if I had known-” His voice wavered, emotion thickening in his throat. “I would havee immediately. I’m sorry.”
Tears slipped past his eyes, shining in the firelight.
Chapter Comments
Jo Ketterman Leastman
Poor Finn/Conner. Feeling iplete with losing his memories.
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