6: Do You Remember?

It was dawn and Finlay hadn't slept a wink ever since he was escorted to the castle with an unconscious Ophelia in his arms. The council of elders denied him of gaining full access to his home because there was still a need for proper interrogation to confirm if he was truly Alpha Finlay. His insensitive half-brother, Cestus was exasperated and ordered the guards to kill him, but the entourage was against this.

Outside, the metal door was guarded because he was still under arrest, it even took some pleading before they let him take his wife into the servants' quarters at the castle's premises.

Although more than half of his pack members believed he was truly Finlay, the rest were skeptical because the man who was buried a year ago had the same physique as Finlay but was without a head.

Still, he knew they would believe him so time later.

He was doing just fine already.

Finlay remained on the only stool in the room the entire night as he stared at the unconscious frame of his wife. No doctor was allowed to attend to her because she was still a rogue, thankfully a kind-hearted servant had sneaked in some medicinal soup through the window, to help in reviving her. 

Finally knew the whole time he woke her up to feed her, she wasn't in her right state of mind because she let him hold her in his arms, something which felt like an illusion to him. He could tell she was exhausted to the bone and needed a lot of rest.

Ophelia was still asleep in her wolf's form, on the tiny bed.

Her wolf wasn't as big as he had expected. At the council hall was the first time he saw it. It had brown fur and appeared so weak, giving out that it was neglected by its owner. 

He wondered why he paid less attention to her and went into her chambers only for sex. Now that he was back, he would train her in the best way possible.

How vulnerable she was, sold her out that she had never had the guts to take a life.

Ophelia was the most beautiful thing he had ever come across, yet he wondered why he treated her so badly, let others mock her, and called her barren. She could walk around in a garbage sack and be still considered to be the fairest among packs of the seven tribes.

Finlay pondered how she had coped the whole time he was pronounced dead.

He hated the fact that she wore that torn black hooded cloak like a homeless beggar. He wanted her to put on those beautiful ball gowns which exhibited her magnificence and charm. Just like the first night he saw her and got smitten.

And this was enough reason for him to convince the entire pack that he was their Alpha. He wanted Ophelia to discard the burdens of poverty piled on her shoulders. He would be damned if she did not get her old life.

Jamming his fingers through his hair, he returned his gaze to the sleeping wolf.

The rays of the sun surfaced through the window and Finally watched closely as Ophelia unconsciously shifted into her human form, showing him that damned ragged cloak again.

His eyes moved from her generous tangled red hair to the small shape of her back.

Her ivory white neck was spotless, like that of a baby's.

Finally, knowing Ophelia's skin was so soft and delicate, could tell the times he had touched her, she had big patches of blood on her body like she was manhandled.

The said person woke up and sat upright to stretch with her back facing him, unaware of her surroundings for a moment.

The fact that she was yet to figure out his presence in the room, birthed a small smile on his lips.

He held captive his inhale as he let his eyes trace every part of her upper body, even though it was clad in a cloak.

Her arms were so skinny that the bones on her elbows were poking out.

He was certain she didn't eat fine because she seemed somewhat sickly. A woman who needed all the care and attention in the world, and he would lend her.

"You?" Ophelia's soft yet hardened voice broke Finlay from his thoughts.

"My Luna," Finlay stood up from the chair and approached her, while she in turn recoiled and stepped backward, wondering how she ended up there with him. She had thought it was all a dream.

"Don't come any closer," Ophelia thought her voice would sound hard as she had intended, but it only came out soft, almost like a moan because those darn blue eyes of his held so much warmth and honesty in them.

"Hear me out," Finlay implored as he stopped right in front of her quivering body, making her feel so small because he was huge. "It's me, Finlay. 

"My husband is dead," she pressed on, as she let her gaze linger on his features. He looked so much like Finlay that she couldn't find a slight difference. But there was something extrinsic about him. He stared at her too much, like she was meant for protection. Finlay never gave off such energy. "You're an Impostor." 

"I'll make you believe me," a muscle twitched in his jaw as he lowered his height to get level.

Fear made Ophelia tremble more than normal because he was too close to her. Personal space had never meant so much for Finlay. 

"You don't have to do this because of wealth and power, they'll have your head on a spike.." Ophelia barely finished her statement when Finlay wrapped his large hand around her throat and gently backed her against a wall.

"There's a scar above your knee that you sustained when trying to escape on our first night together. You were young, naive, and scared of me. Tried to flee through the window and ended up sustaining a broken leg. Your wolf was too weak to heal you within seconds, so I took it upon myself to straighten the broken bone." Finlay paused and let his finger trail on her bottom lip as he blinked and maintained deep eye contact with her. "Up till this very moment, I've never seen a female cry as much as you did that night.."

"Stop!" Ophelia snapped with wide eyes. She opened her mouth to speak and then shut it as she digested his words.

Of course, she could remember. That night was terrible, a night she could never forget. Luckily she healed within three days and the scar had stuck since then, refusing to wither away. It felt like karma. Reminded her of her temporarily silly actions that earned her a permanent scar.

Finlay gave her another astonishment by cupping the small swell of her breast through her blouse generating heat at the same time a bittersweet emotion on the pit of her stomach, as it made goosebumps rise on her pores.

Her nipples hardened and arched beneath her blouse.

She gulped down a sudden gigantic lump stuck within her throat because there was never a time her body reacted this way to Finlay's touch. This was foreign and she had no idea why she still let him hold her bosom.

"There's a birthmark on your mammary lobe, it has an uncanny resemblance with the seven tribes map.."

"Oh…" she gasped, unable to fathom with words because this man could really be Finlay. An impostor couldn't know all these. Mostly about her birthmark when Finlay was the only man she had slept with.

Her messy red hair was hiding her face away from him because she had tipped her head down earlier on, before raising it to face him with tearful and fear-contained eyes.

Finlay wiped the tears off with his thumb and forefinger, before slipping his hand into his pocket, and holding a wolf chain in her face.

Ophelia's pupils dilated in shock as her heart slammed down her ribcage.

"Where did you get this?" She shifted her incredulous gaze to him.

"You gave it to me as a gift on the night I turned twenty-six." 

How could she forget? That was his birthday and the castle was booming with hundreds of guests, refined like a paradise and he was in the midst of his friends, laughing heartily and she had approached him with her maid behind her. Wore the chain around his neck.

This man could be Finlay. 

She needed...

She couldn't even think straight.

Oh, it was just too much for her to handle. She felt dizzy for a moment and was close to losing her balance when Finlay caught her by the waist and steadied her on the floor.

 

"You're not fainting again, are you, my Luna?"

Ophelia closed her eyes.

"I don't…don't feel so good." She managed to murmur and it was a miracle he heard her.

Finlay swept her off his arms, carried her in a bridal style,e and gently pressed her head to the hard walls of his chest.

She looked so young. Younger than her two decades and two years. Almost like a child who needed protection and not any form of harm.

He swore under his breath because his wife needed to be tended to by the pack doctors. Her skin was way too soft and her bones delicate. She needed medicine and food.

"Ophelia.." he called, but there was no response from her. She had fainted yet again.

He swore under his breath for the second time and stomped hard on the metal door, with all his might. 

And the door immediately broke down, startling the two guards who were guarding it. Because it was locked before.

"I need to take her to a doctor." Finlay gritted these words as he looked away from his wife to the guards.

"That's impossible, we are following orders so we cannot let you leave." One of the guards stepped forward and told him.

"Damn you and the order. Move out of the fucking way!" He bellowed, and his exceedingly mighty wolf surfaced with glimmering red eyes and bared fangs, making the men withdraw in fear.