Chapter 113: Lost Memories: Part Two

Nyx squeezed Marcus' hand again before the sound of her phone vibrating distracted her. She looked down at the device with a frown and sighed. Marcus watched her thoughtfully as he rested his elbow on the back of the couch and leaned his cheek on his fist while tapping her leg with his other hand. Nyx was still the same person he knew, but now she seemed more real.

In the short amount of time he'd seen her today, in the morning and this evening, Nyx had expressed her emotions so openly. When she was at the Hellhounds, he knew she kept everything in check and barely relaxed even when it was just the two in the cottage. It was refreshing to see, and he enjoyed seeing the different faces she pulled, even if she was upset. He was used to her angry and deadly side, and on rare occasions, he had seen a soft smile, not her smirk, but a genuine smile. 

Marcus cleared his throat, and Nyx sent him an apologetic smile while finishing her text message before flipping the phone shut.

"Trouble in paradise?" Marcus joked, although he felt irritated that Nyx's attention was taken away from him and for a leech of all things. He didn't like it. He'd seen the way they looked at each other in the valley; he couldn't understand it. Nyx was mated to another, and he knew how strong the connection of a mate bond was. He'd seen it that day on the cliff when she desperately wanted to escape with him, and only by calling her name her mate was able to lure her back to him. 

Nyx grimaced in response to his words. "Nothing I can't handle," She muttered before returning his stare. "So, you were in a coma for six months.. You lost your memories. When did they return? How did Camilla survive?" 

Marcus chuckled and clapped his hand on her leg, shaking it playfully. "So many questions, yet so little time to tell you," He smirked and laughed again as she smacked his arm. 

"Come on. I'm probably already in a lot of shit. I might as well stay until I hear everything now," Nyx shrugged it off, but Marcus could see the slight worry behind her eyes as she glanced at her phone. "Plus, we can't keep your friends too long. They might get suspicious," She added with a raised brow, the worry already gone from her dark eyes. 

"I was in the clinic for a few more days, they ran some tests on me, and I was later told that doctor Ash had given me some vampire blood the night before I woke up," Marcus began, his voice dropped at the mention of vampire blood.

"What!?" Nyx gasped, and her eyes went wide. They both knew the accelerated healing properties of vampire blood, but it was taboo in the Hellhounds. It was forbidden in general, but the Hellhounds especially hated the use of vampire blood as a means to heal; they were a werewolf's enemy after all. Anywho used the blood was punished by torture, or they were executed. 

Marcus nodded his head in confirmation and added, "Yep. Ash overheard some of the other Hellhounds. They were planning to kill me the next day. When you left, I filled your spot, and nobody could ever challenge me for it. But then I was in a coma for six months.."

"Was it Rudy's plan?" Nyx asked as she narrowed her burning gaze. 

Nyx and Rudy hated each other, and on many occasions, she had been pulled off of him from nearly killing him. The fucker was annoying, and most times, Nyx ignored him, which infuriated the man more, but sometimes she slipped up. But if Rudy was utterly useless, then nobody would intervene, but he was a leader of the 'assault team' when their mission was to take down a pack. Nyx and Marcus were the 'ghost team', either working together or by themselves to assassinate an Alpha or specified pack member or to go on other missions. 

"What do you think?" Marcus smirked. "Camilla was intent on keeping me alive. She doesn't know, though that Ash interfered and gave me vampire blood."

"So, wouldn't the vampire blood help restore your memories?" Nyx asked as she looked to be calculating how the mind and a vampire's healing properties work. 

"You'd think, right?" He shook his head as he remembered leaving the clinic on the fourth day since waking up from his coma. He'd built enough strength up to walk, had a shower and shaved his beard, though he kept his hair long, for now, taking note of some of the she-wolves who had been calling him 'sleeping beauty. 

Camilla met him at the clinic's entrance, and she hugged him like any mother might, clinging onto him as she rested her head on his chest. By now, most of his memories had returned, but parts were still blurry, including the woman who was holding onto him. He knew she was the leader of the Hellhounds, the group of rogues who lived in the forest they were walking through. But he didn't think they were as close as they appeared right then. 

Something else was scratching at the back of his mind like he'd forgotten something or someone. But neither he nor his wolf knew what it was. They walked in that awkward position down the dirt tracks and past the houses and people passing by. He looked down at Camilla in familiarity and confusion. Confusion because another face, very similar to hers, came to the forefront of his mind. Still, as quickly as it came, it went. 

"Here we are. Home sweet home," Camilla opened the door to the little cottage for him, settling the keys on the kitchen counter. "Do you remember this place?"

She was aware his mind was still foggy with certain parts, so she was incredibly patient and kind with him. From glimpses of his memories with the woman, Marcus knew that she wasn't kind at all. But he was yet to understand the full story of his and her relationship. 

"Yeah, I remember," Marcus replied over his shoulder as he walked down the hallway and stopped in front of a door with a red cross spray-painted on the wood. He tilted his head to the side with a frown and touched the doorknob, but when he turned it, the door didn't open. He turned his head slowly to look at Camilla. "Is there a reason this door is locked?"

Camilla glanced at the door then looked at him, her face hardening and her gaze going cold. "I assume not all of your memories have returned for you to ask such a question. Do NOT open that door. EVER," She warned quietly, making the air in the room suddenly cold. She spun on the spot, her hair flipping behind her as her small frame walked back towards the front door.

With her hand still on the handle, she looked back at him, her expression unreadable. "I will give you a few more days to settle in. Then you should start reporting to me and helping in the meetings. I need you back in tip-top condition. Not only have I lost over half the pack, but my best assassin is gone, and now you have fallen behind in your training. Do not disappoint me, Marcus. My plans have been put on hold for too long now."

She opened the door with those harsh words and left him standing in the cottage that felt familiar and alien to him. Over the course of the next month, Marcus had started to get used to his life at the Hellhounds again; he didn't let anyone push him around. His reputation had returned even if his skills were rusty, and he still needed to train his body's strength and agility. Marcus was still one of the best fighters. His memories had returned, including muscle memory, but every time he returned to his cottage, the feeling that something was missing weighed on his mind into the late hours of the night. 

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Marcus felt empty, and sitting by himself in the cottage depressed him. He couldn't understand why until he found himself waking up from sleeping, walking and standing in front of the locked door. He didn't question Camilla about unlocking it, and he had a lot on his mind to pay the locked room any attention. That was until this moment in the early hours of the morning. 

He knew his mind was trying to tell him something, and it made him sleepwalk, which he had never done in his life. He barged into the door without any hesitation, causing the door to rip from the hinges. His gaze swept across the ordinary bedroom that had the usual furnishings. There was nothing extra special about it, and it seemed like whoever stayed there didn't have many belongings. The only colour in the room was a light blue mandala rug on the wooden floor and a dead plant on the wooden chest of drawers that stood across from the double bed. 

Marcus frowned and shook his head. "I don't know what I was thinking," He muttered and started to turn away, raking his hand through his silky hair. 

"No, smell that," His wolf, Hunter, said, causing him to pause and smell the area. The scent of morning rain on leaves and grass filled the room, and he found himself feeling comforted by it. Whoever lived there had to be someone important enough for Camilla to lock the door and not mention anything about them. But to him, this person's scent was calming him. 

Marcus walked to the chest of drawers, his curiosity piquing now and pushing past the guilt of going through someone else's room. He opened the first draw and instantly felt bad after seeing it filled with lingerie. 

This was a girl's room! 

He slammed the drawer shut.

"Open it again. You missed the box inside," Hunter said calmly. His wolf didn't seem to care much that he'd just peeked inside someone's knicker drawer. 

"I'm not snooping-"

"How is this any different from a mission? Just check out the box. I feel like we'll get some answers from it," He replied back confidently.

Marcus slid the drawer open again and looked through it until his hand wrapped around a small box. He pulled it out and shut the drawer, hoping and praying his wolf was right, and he wasn't about to find a toy or something else embarrassing inside of the box.

But as soon as he opened the lid, he dropped to his knees, holding onto the box with widened eyes. There were photos of him and a girl with dark-brown hair, her olive skin unblemished with a few freckles across her nose and cheeks. He recognised her and felt his heart pinch at seeing those brown eyes that were as sweet as chocolate. 

The photos ranged from looked like young childhood memories to their teens. But the images seemed to show different sides to both of them. The first few were of them as children, climbing trees, and the photographer snapping the shot from below; this then changed to them sparring together, and then as he moved that photo away, his eyes remained on the expressionless features of both teen boy and girl. 

Marcus knew from his other memories that this photo was taken before a mission. It was a selfie of the pair dressed in black, half their faces covered with a mask, the she-wolf wearing black eye makeup, and her eyes were as cold as his icy stare. He flipped the photo over, and it read, 'first mission'; the handwriting was his own and not the girls. Putting the photo back, another showed the same girl, sleeping on the sofa in the living room in a small ball, clutching a knife to her chest, her feet in his lap. He had taken the photo.

It looked so normal. Marcus knew it had to be because he took the photo and because they lived in this cottage together in the Hellhounds base camp. 

Marcus covered his mouth. This girl was important to him. He could tell from the following photos they were taken by him; some were sneaky shots of her, and others she knew he was taking the photo and was looking at him unimpressed, not once smiling at the camera.

Then he came to the last photo in the stack, dropping the others in the box as he stared at it in awe. 

"Nyx," Hunter whispered in his mind. "Marcus, look in the box again."

Marcus forced his eyes away from the photo and grabbed the small black ring from the box. 

It matched the ring on his necklace. 

He stared back at the photo, at the dark-haired beauty smiling into the camera with a slight blush across her cheeks. The dark-haired beauty who was cuddling Marcus. She was wearing his shirt, and they were on his bed.

"Nyx," He whispered and clutched the ring in his hand as memories swarmed across his mind. 

Nyx, his best friend.

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