Make Me Remember

Lost and found

The trees loomed like quiet gods, tall and ancient, their shadows stretching across the moss-carpeted forest like claws. The wind bit through my clothes, but not as much as the smug heat trailing behind me. Literally.

"Bite me!" I growled, spinning on my heel.

He was too close—again.

Instead of taking offense, the man grinned, all fangs and wicked intentions. "Oh~ Don't mind if I do," he purred, voice low and amused.

God, even his smirk was hot. Dangerous-hot. Like bonfire-on-a-full-moon kind of hot.

I took a step back, tripping over a root and catching myself before falling flat on my pride. "Would you just leave me alone?! God damn it!"

"Aye—whoa there." He held up his hands in mock surrender, but the sparkle in his eyes was far from innocent. "I'm just tryna help, sweetheart."

"If you call waist-grabbing and trapping people against trees helping," I snapped, "then no thanks."

His smile only grew. "I can't help it~ You're kinda cute when you're angry."

I flushed. "Y-you sadist!"

Okay. I hated that it gave me butterflies. A whole swarm of them.

Why the hell was I in the middle of a forest outside Toronto with a sexy stranger stalking me like I was his next meal? Scratch that—I didn't even know how I got here. One moment I was in my apartment binge-watching murder documentaries and ghosting my ex, and the next? Pine needles in my shoes and a flirtatious lunatic breathing down my neck.

The scariest part?

He felt... familiar.

Not in a met-him-on-Tinder kind of way, more like a déjà vu that crawled under your skin and whispered, You've known him before. You just don't remember.

"Why are you following me?" I asked, quieter now.

He tilted his head, studying me like I was a riddle he couldn't quite solve—or didn't want to yet. "You really don't remember, do you?"

That made my stomach drop. "Remember what?"

The teasing light in his eyes darkened. "What you are."

My breath hitched. "Excuse me?"

The wind howled through the trees, suddenly colder, as if the forest itself bristled at his words. The man stepped closer, close enough that I could smell something—cedarwood, winter, and something faintly metallic. He reached into the collar of his jacket, revealing a thin chain.

At the end of it hung a pendant.

My pendant.

The one I hadn't seen in years.

"What the hell..." My voice trembled.

"You gave this to me," he said softly. "The night you marked me."

Before I could respond, a distant growl echoed through the forest—low, primal, and not human.

His eyes snapped toward the trees. "They've found you."

"Who?"

But he didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed my wrist and yanked me against him.

"Hold on," he whispered against my ear. "And for gods' sake—don't scream."

Then the world shifted.

No, ripped.

The trees blurred, twisted, and with a sound like a heartbeat breaking, we vanished into shadow.