Dylan watched Blake as he moved tentatively around their room. He was sitting amongst the plush bedding of their four-poster bed, back straight, eyes attentive.

Blake let Lily tug him around the room, explaining different things they had lying around and telling him stories she thought he needed to know. He barely looked like he was paying attention. His gaze swept around the room slowly, brows furrowed and lips parted. His eyes hovered on all the little bits and pieces that made up a part of Dylan and Lily. Their clothes, and their bags. All their belongings. His gaze hesitated on a few pieces of himself, the equipment he’d left behind, the framed pictures of the three of them displayed on the mantel, pictures of him and Dylan, of their wedding.

His eyes remained focused on that one the longest, staring long and hard until Lily dragged him away, unaware that his attention had drifted away from her.

Dylan watched with a strange detachment, feeling as if he were merely observing from far away, through numb eyes, without feeling much of anything.

It was strange to see Blake look so out of place in the room they had shared for years. It was hard to watch him interact with what had been their space and his interaction with Dylan himself felt like he was walking on eggshells. It was far too familiar, but at the same time far too different.

Even Blake’s scent was different. While Dylan’s body still reacted to it instantly, recognizing it as the scent of his mate, it smelled out of place in their room now. For years, this room had held their mingled scents, joined together and clinging to everything in there with a familiar harmony. It had always been a comfort to return to it whenever they visited the Shadow Pack, to smell the traces of their mixed scents still lingering in their room.

However, during the time Blake had been gone, Dylan and Lily’s scents had dominated, overwriting all the subtle notes of Blake’s, until he was hard pressed to find any trace of him whatsoever. Now that he was back, his scent seeped back into the room as Lily towed him around it, and Dylan felt conflicted.

On the one hand, Blake’s scent blended with his in many familiar ways. It was a familiar scent, and it should have been comforting.

On the other hand, there was a subtle sour note that gave his normally welcoming scent an edge. As if Blake were holding himself back somehow. It spoke of his nervousness and reservations, and that was something Dylan had never had to deal with before when it came to Blake. Not when he knew the nerves and reservations were about him. About them.

So, while the reunion of their scents should have been sweet, it only served to further twist the knife in Dylan’s heart.

“I have to show you my games.” Lily said suddenly, whirling around to face the couch and the coffee table. She frowned before releasing Blake’s hand and running over to her bed. After a brief search, she turned to Dylan, her brows furrowed. “Daddy, where’s my tablet?”

He raised an eyebrow, face going blank as he tried to remember. He tilted his head a fraction. “You last had it when you were playing in Remi’s room. Maybe it’s there?”

Her face lit up, and she whirled around, hair flying as she pinned Blake with a hard stare, pointing at him with one firm finger. “Stay here!”

He put up his hands in a show of helpless defense, a small smile playing at his lips. “Yes, ma’am. Not going anywhere.”

She grinned. “I’ll be right back!” And then she was gone, sprinting out through the door, letting it close slowly behind her.

Blake’s smile fell from his face the moment the door clicked shut.

“So...” Blake said slowly, lowering his hands and shoving them in his pockets. His eyes drifted around the room as he cautiously turned, careful to avoid eye contact. “This is...weird.”

Dylan let out a long breath through his nose, posture slumping at the same time. “Tell me about it.”

Blake glanced at him over his shoulder, and he smiled briefly. The two of them shared a moment of amusement born from unfortunate circumstance. It made something in Dylan spark, but the spark died the moment Blake’s brow furrowed and he looked away.

One hand in his pocket, he lifted the other to scratch at the back of his neck. “Sorry about...you know, barging into your life like this.”

He looked nervous and anxious, fingers fidgeting and his weight shifting from one foot to the other. His eyes were restless, glancing everywhere but at Dylan. Dylan knew this side of Blake. It was his serious, vulnerable side but he’d never been the cause of having to deal with it before. His insides clenched, and he waited for the usual punchline. For Blake to make it into a joke, with a smile and an easy comment that lightened the mood. But it never came, and a trickle of anger started to flair inside him, shielding his pain.

Blake shouldn’t be like this. Not with Dylan.

“You’re part of my life, Blake.” he said, the words coming out far more clipped than he’d intended. He didn’t notice until Blake tensed, shoulders rising. Dylan winced, clamping down on the frustration he felt bubbling up in his chest before it could go too far. Forcing his voice to become calmer, gentler, and more soothing, he continued, smiling with all the warmth he could muster. “A very important part of my life.”

Blake glanced at him then, over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised, his expression cautious and his smile tentative. “Be that as it may, I feel like I’m intruding.”

Dylan tilted his head, exposing and stretching his neck. His smile remained fixed, even if it didn’t reach his heart. Forcing himself to breath evenly, hoping it would make his scent calmer and more alluring, he patted the bed next to him. “To me, it just feels like you’ve finally come home.”

Blake’s small smile remained, but his eyes grew sad. Then he sighed, the sound trailing off into a dry chuckle. “Even if I can’t remember the fact that we had a home?”

“Have,” Dylan corrected, smile becoming strained. “And yeah, even then.”

Even as he said it, Dylan could feel his stomach twisting, acid rising into his throat until he tasted the bile on his tongue. He wanted to mean everything he said to Blake. He tried to convince himself he believed it. But he wasn’t sure he did.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he patted the bed again. “Besides, the witches said this would be good for you. Maybe being here, with us, will help your memory come back.”

Blake sighed, running a hand down the side of his face. His posture visibly sagged as he gave in and trudged over to the bed, sitting on the edge close to Dylan, but not close enough for it to appear overly familiar. He let out a long exhale, leaning forward until his elbows rested on his knees. “I hope something can be done,” he said softly, and Dylan believed him. He knew when Blake was being genuine. Unfortunately, he also knew when Blake had lost hope.

Dylan reached forward, instinct taking over his movements. He laid a hesitant hand on Blake’s shoulder. “It’ll work itself out,” he tried, but it sounded more convincing when Rajiah had said it to him.

“I hope so,” Blake repeated, running his fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands in a frustrated gesture. “It’s just...weird.” He exhaled heavily, lifting a hand to vaguely gesture around the room. “I remember this room. I remember being on a mission to investigate the Shadow Pack. I remember living here for months.”

“That’s when we got together.” Dylan said, a small smile forming on his lips. “You saved me after I got caught. Convincing the pack I was your mate and not a spy.”

Blake exhaled sharply in a short, bitter laugh. “That’s what I’ve heard. But I don’t...I can’t remember that part. I remember being here, I remember everything else. I remember sneaking into Arulean’s study. I remember warning the Navy Seal team to run. I just...I don’t remember you.” His elbow dropped back down to his knee, and his eyes turned hard as he stared at the floor. When he continued, it was softer, sadder, and achingly more numb. “It’s like there’s a gaping hole in my memory. Everything is still there, but there are empty spaces where you and Lily should be. I don’t remember your faces, your voices, the things you said. I just don’t remember…” he sighed again, speaking so softly Dylan had to strain to hear him. “How I felt about you. Everything is just gone.”

Dylan’s mouth felt suddenly dry, moving mechanically. His voice sounded strained and foreign to his own ears. “They said the memories are still there, though. Just...buried.”

Blake scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, that’s what they’re saying. But they’re not the one’s experiencing it.”

Dylan frowned, lips pursed and brows furrowing. This...this wasn’t the Blake he knew. The man who’d waited years, harboring feelings for him, chasing him until Dylan finally let him in. Blake would never give up on them, never sound so hopeless and accepting of defeat.

What had Abel done to him?

Dylan’s hand tightened on Blake’s shoulder for a moment before moving down, intent on rubbing soothing circles into his back, just like he used to. No matter how he felt, he had to be here for Blake. He had to prove that he really was the mate Blake couldn’t remember.

But then Blake flinched away from his touch, back bowing as he turned, his eyes finding Dylan’s. They were open wide with guilt, lines forming around his lips as he frowned. Dylan remained frozen, not knowing what to do with the hand that still hovered in the air.

“Sorry,” Blake said quickly, frown deepening. “I just...it’s...I’m not...I don’t…”

“It’s fine.” Dylan smiled, but it felt strained and didn’t reach his eyes. His heart squeezed as he finally pulled his hand back to place it on his own chest, over his heart. “It’s fine.”

He had to struggle to keep his breathing under control. His alpha had pulled away from his touch. His alpha didn’t want his comfort. The omega in him whined, but he bit his tongue before the sound could escape.

It wasn’t fine. It wasn’t fine. It wasn’t fine...

The door flew open, hard enough to bounce off the doorstop as Lily came sprinting back into the room. Both Dylan and Blake jumped. “I got it!” she said, face bright and smile wide. She hurried across the room as the door slammed shut behind her. When she got to the bed, she crawled up, settling herself on the blankets beside Blake.

She didn’t seem to notice the distance between them, or the tension that hung in the air. She merely leaned into Blake’s side, lifting her tablet to show him the games he had coded for her, asking him if they could play together.

Dylan watched them sitting so close, eyes on their backs. While Blake had tensed when Lily first leaned in, he had relaxed quickly, leaning back on one hand as he prodded the tablet with the other. He was far more relaxed and natural than he’d been when they’d been alone.

Dylan should be happy Blake was getting along with the daughter he didn’t remember. He should be glad for Lily’s sake. He should feel warm and relieved to see the two of them together as if nothing had happened. But he didn’t.

Instead, he felt a twisting ball of jealousy in his gut, nauseating and acidic, making his limbs tingle and his chest tight. His mind started to drift, a strange lightheadedness that made him feel as if he were drifting away from his body, unable to stay latched onto a reality that he didn’t want to be a part of.

He shook his head, shifting and pushing himself off the bed, holding a hand out as he caught his balance. Blake glanced at him, brow furrowing with concern and...was that guilt? Dylan hated seeing that in his eyes so he just smiled, waving him off as he moved toward the bathroom attached to their room.

Once inside, he shut the door, muting the sound of Blake’s voice and Lily’s giggles. He sighed heavily, leaning against the door, head falling back, one hand on his belly, and eyes squeezed shut.

Everything was not fine. It was not fine. It was not...

He pushed off the door, gritting his teeth as he stalked across the bathroom to the shower. He turned the water on as hot as he could stand and stepped back to strip off his clothes, carefully keeping his back to the mirror. He avoided mirrors a lot these days, not wanting to be reminded of his changing body.

Throwing his clothes aside, he stepped into the hot spray, eyes closing as his body relaxed. Through the walls, he could hear the muted sounds of father and daughter, his family, and for the first time ever, he hated it. The steam quickly filled the bathroom, thick and stifling, but he didn’t get out, nor did he turn the temperature down.

He went through the motions of washing himself, barely noticing what he was doing, letting his mind drift freely away from him, keeping himself safe in an unfeeling bubble of numbness.

When he’d run out of things to occupy his hands, but wasn’t quite ready to leave the sanctuary of the shower, he sagged against the wall, resting his forehead against the wet tiles. He breathed deeply, focusing on the drag of air in and out of his lungs. It felt strained and tight. There was a burn behind his eyes, a familiar prickling that he tried desperately to keep at bay.

Blake might not have remembered their time together, but Dylan did. Once upon a time, Blake would have joined him in the shower, and Dylan would have left the door unlocked to let him, pretending to be surprised as he melted back into Blake’s arms. The room would have been filled with gasps and barely concealed moans as Blake pushed him against the wall and sank to his knees.

But Blake didn’t remember.

More than that, Blake didn’t remember how he felt. Dylan could see it in his eyes, in his smile, in his voice, in his body language. He regarded Dylan like he was an obligation, something he had to force himself to deal with. There was no residual warmth, no love, no affection, no lingering fondness.

It hurt. It hurt a lot.

But Dylan needed to be the loving omega his mate deserved. He would pretend he felt no pang of jealousy, no twisting pain, no aching hurt. He would pretend he didn’t hate his body, and he would bury the rising resentment he felt toward the child he carried. He would pretend everything was fine.

Because Blake needed him, and he needed Blake back. His Blake. So, if he had to be a perfect, kind, gentle, and patient omega to make that happen, that was exactly what he would do.

Everything was not fine, but he would try his damnedest to make sure it would be.