Chapter 42

Chapter 42: Chapter 42

The castle walls were colder than usual that morning. Even with the hearth burning in the fireplace, a chill clung to the air. Part of the reason for the chilly weather was because of the last day’s storm. The rogue king, Trevor, had sent out his men to see how much damage the storm had caused. The soil was already cursed and barely yielded food, and he was sure it was going to be worse after the storm.

Trevor paced around his corridors restlessly. His boots tapped faintly on the stone, his hands were locked behind his back. Something urged him to go outside, something he had not felt before and wasn’t supposed to feel. That morning, he had woken before sunrise, his chest was heavy with a pressure he couldn’t name, and right now, it had gotten more intense.

"No, it can’t be." He muttered to himself, trying to shake off this feeling, blaming it on the endless worry that came from ruling a dying land.

He was about to step out of the castle to follow this pull when he heard a shout at the gate. His men were walking towards him, holding something with them.

He recognized Tomas and Redd, two of his best scouts and the other of his rogue subjects. They carried what looked like a body.

The strange pull in his chest flared like fire when they dropped her before him. It couldn’t be true. That was the moment he knew that the uneasiness he felt since morning was because of this woman who was unconscious. A primal instinct surged in him and he could feel a magnetic thread linking him to her, the pull of a mate. This stranger was his mate.

Rogues were not meant to have mates. The moon had forsaken them long ago. The bond was a gift for those in packs, not for outcasts like him and his people. He had accepted that bitter truth years ago, when he was cast out of his pack and buried any hope of a mate inside him.

Yet, here she was, lying lifeless with tangled hair and torn cloth.

Lifeless? That thought made his heart race. His mate couldn’t be lifeless. He crouched to her level, placing two fingers on her neck and felt a pulse. Her chest also kept rising and falling with great difficulty, proving that she was alive. He felt relief wash over him. She wasn’t dead.

He almost laughed at the irony of his men bringing her here because they wanted his decision on whether to kill her. How could he kill his mate? Instead, he surprised them by using the last of the healing herbs on her. His men’s faces had twisted in confusion, anger and disbelief, but none had dared to defy him. He hoped that the herbs would bring her back to consciousness.

Carrying her to one of the rooms in his castle, he placed her on the bed gently. She was frail, delicate and pale.

An hour had passed since she lay there, he kept stealing glances at her to see if she’d woken up. Her lips had regained a faint color, the healing herbs had begun doing its work.

He turned as the door creaked open. A man entered, bowing slightly. "My King, you sent for the nurse?"

"Yes. Bring Alice."

The man nodded and left.

Trevor moved closer to the bed, studying her face again. It had begun to regain a faint color as well, although there were some scratches scattered around her face. Strands of wet hair clung to her temple. He felt like he had seen her before. Something about her seemed familiar, but his memory refused to give him answers.

Moments later, the door opened again. The healer, Alice shuffled in, her slightly gray hair bound in a knot. She bowed slightly. "You called for me, my Lord."

Trevor gestured towards the bed. "Examine her and dress her up."

Alice moved towards the bedside, setting down her small box. She worked with precision, cleaning the woman’s wounds, checking her pulse, and pressing her fingers against her neck and ribs.

Trevor watched in silence, his arms folded across his chest, and his gaze never left his mate’s face.

The smell of lavender water filled the room as Alice bathed the dirt from the woman’s skin. Trevor turned away, giving her privacy, though every instinct in him wanted him to look at her bare body.

Alice dressed her in new clothes, discarding the torn dirty one.

He was about to leave the room and was halfway to the door when he heard a faint cough.

He halted. He turned towards her, and rushed to her side. The woman’s lashes fluttered open. Her eyes were pale and disoriented, searching the room with a confused expression. Her lips parted slightly as if to say something.

"Easy," Trevor said in a low and gentle voice. "You are safe."

Her gaze fell on Alice, and then at him.

"Where am I?" She whispered in a voice that sounded extremely frail.

"You’re at my home. You were found washed up from the river. You drowned."

She frowned slightly. "Drowned? I don’t remember being on a river. I..." Her voice cracked, and he could see the effort it took from her to even form the words.

"What’s your name?" Trevor asked.

She hesitated. "My name is..." she gave a long pause.

"Yes, what’s your name?"

She stared at him blankly in a confused manner. "I don’t know."

Trevor’s worry deepened. "Do you remember your pack? Where do you come from?"

Her gaze dropped to the floor. "No."

"And your family?"

She shook her head. Trevor let out a sigh. He wondered if she knew that they were mates.

He turned to Alice. "What is wrong with her?"

Alice moved closer, examining the woman again. "She’s been through a terrible accident. A head injury perhaps. She has suffered memory loss. It’s not uncommon after such trauma. She must have hit her head when she fell into the water."

Trevor nodded once, though frustration was evident on his face.

Alice hesitated before continuing, her tone sounded lower as if she didn’t want Maria to hear. "There is one more thing my king."

"What is it?"

"The woman was with a child." Alice said in a cautious low tone.

The words hit him like a blow. "She was pregnant?"

Alice continued. "The pregnancy did not survive, but I can see signs that she was pregnant."

His jaw clenched and a surge of rage rippled through him. Who had done this to her? What fool had dared to touch what was his, even before he knew she existed? The image of some nameless man rose in his mind, faceless, but already condemned by him.

But beneath that anger, relief settled in him. The child was gone. He hated himself for feeling satisfied at that part, but the idea of her bearing another man’s child while lying in his bed made his insides twist.

What kind of man was he to feel relief that the unborn child was gone? Yet he did. It was an ugly truth he couldn’t deny.

Alice’s voice broke through his thoughts. "She will recover if she rests. She needs care."

He could give all the care in the world to his mate.

Alice put his mate to sleep, and he watched as she closed her eyes, falling into a deep sleep. She looked beautiful in her sleep.

When the nurse left, silence settled. He stood beside the bed, watching her sleep. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She stirred slightly under his touch.

"Who are you?" He murmured. "And why does your face feel like something I’ve seen before?"

She didn’t answer. Her eyes were closed, lost to sleep. He stood there for a long while. He had faced near-death, war, betrayal, but never this.

Rogues were not meant to survive, not to even mention falling in love. They weren’t even meant to have mates. The blessings of the moon goddess were far away from them, and they were cursed instead.

A knock broke the silence. "My King," said the man who walked inside.

Trevor didn’t turn. "What is it?"

"The rogues are uneasy. They’re asking why the stranger is kept alive. Supplies are low. Some think that she may bring more bad luck to the land."

Trevor’s gaze still didn’t flinch from her. "Tell them that she doesn’t hold bad luck."

"As you command."

The door shut as the man left. He didn’t know what fate the moon goddess was weaving, but he knew one thing, he would protect her.

He had spent years teaching himself to feel nothing. His fate was cruel since he was cast out of his pack, he expected death to find him first before a mate found him.

He moved forward and lifted the blanket to properly cover her shoulders.

He turned away and reached for the door. He couldn’t wait for her to recover and call him her mate.