My Mate Lost His Memory And Fell For My Friend

The whole town of Belmor was buzzing about it: Gabriel Thorne lived for me, Lydia Hartwell.

Back in preschool, he'd taken a pencil jab for me. As teenagers, he climbed trees to shoo away the cicadas that were ruining my naps. When we grew up, all I had to do was sigh, "Spring's so nice," and he'd go out and buy properties in a dozen spring-soaked cities across the globe, just so he could whisk me off for a romantic getaway whenever I wanted.

Except for that stretch when Gabriel lost his memory, he'd given me his whole heart, his entire life.

Even after we formed our sacred bond, when I was diagnosed with ALS, and the whole town urged him to break the bond, he just stayed quiet. He'd carry me, my body numb and useless, on his back, climbing every mountain temple etched with ancient stones. He'd guide my hand to trace the word "life" carved into those slabs, praying I'd hold on.

But that brutal winter, when the healers declared me gone, he sat with my body all night, his forehead pressed against my cheek, whispering, "Lydia, I've done my duty to you in this life. If there's another, I hope you'll let me be with her."

They say hearing's the last thing to go when you die.

That's when I learned the truth. The wolf everyone thought was devoted to me had split his heart in two the moment his memories came back. Half for his duty to me. The other half for Serena Brightwell-the she-wolf who found him when he was lost, the one who chose to end her life when he remembered who he was.

Maybe Gabriel's prayers moved the heavens, because when I opened my eyes again, I was right back where it all started. My assistant's panicked voice hit my ears: "Gabriel's lost his memory again. He won't come back with us."

"We've reached out to the top neural healer," she went on. "They can restore his memory soon."

The exact same words I'd heard in my last life, when I found Gabriel after he went missing.

But this time, there was no rush of joy, no frantic need to save him. I rubbed my throbbing temples and shook my head. "No healers yet."

Then I did two things.

First, I went to the hospital for a full-body checkup, down to the last detail.

Second, I took those results to Gabriel's parents and asked to break our binding.

They were stunned, jaws practically on the floor. I laid it out calmly, like I was discussing the weather. "Gabriel doesn't remember me or our bond. He's a blank slate. If he gets his memory back, he'll be stuck with me-a she-wolf with a disease no healer can fix. Better to let him stay as he is, free to form a sacred bond with someone he actually wants. I won't drag him down again."

I meant every word.

In my last life, I believed