Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2024 Beth D. Carter

  ISBN: 978-0-3695-0527-9

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Lisa Petrocelli

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  Thanks to all the readers, and those who said so many wonderful things in their reviews for this series. I write for your enjoyment, and I’m grateful for every critique thrown my way. Believe me, I read them and I always strive to write better.

  FORGOTTEN MATE

  Sheridan Pack, 4

  Beth D. Carter

  Copyright © 2024

  Chapter One

  A cool morning breeze wrapped around Zenia as she left her tiny one-bedroom home, walking toward Main Street. She worked as the alpha’s admin assistant. Well, it was more like a receptionist position but that didn’t sound as important. Jericho Savidge ran a large construction company with projects in progress all over the State of Colorado. He was not only a powerful man, but a powerful alpha. She considered herself blessed to have landed the job. It had given her a sense of self-empowerment knowing she could stand on her two feet after years of battling depression. It had taken her a long time to get to this point, and she was grateful Jericho had taken a chance on her.

  People waved and greeted her, and she smiled, loving the tight-knit community. Her days fell into a routine, starting with the local coffee shop to grab a cup for her and one for Jericho. The barista behind the counter, Keegan, gave a little wave as she finished up with a customer.

  “Thanks, Ms. Smyth,” she said with a bright smile. “Have a wonderful day.”

  The little old lady, Ms. Smyth, waved before picking up her cup. She blew on the top as she turned to leave. When she spotted Zenia, she paused.

  “Hello, Zenia,” she said. “When does that boss of yours get into the office?”

  “Well, today he has a morning meeting,” she replied. “But his schedule opens up after lunch to hear suggestions and grievances.”

  Ms. Smyth gave a little harrumph before marching out. Keegan laughed and shook her head.

  “That woman’s a menace,” Keegan said with a roll of her eyes.

  “She’s not so bad,” Zenia stated, feeling the need to be more diplomatic. She represented the alpha, after all.

  “You’re always good-hearted. The usual?”

  “Yes, please.”

  The door behind her opened, allowing the cool breeze to flow in, and the scent of cedar and vanilla rolled over her senses. It confused her because the last time she’d encountered that scent it had belonged to…

  No, she couldn’t think his name. Couldn’t slip back into the memories of her past. Her therapist would be so disappointed.

  “Why do you smell like my mate?”

  The deep voice froze her in her tracks. It couldn’t be him. No. No, no, no. She had to be hallucinating because he could not be here in Sheridan. She sucked in her breath, sure she had to be imagining him. She didn’t want to look, didn’t want to acknowledge him, and yet she had to. Slowly, she turned and like a horror show, her nightmare stared at her in confusion. Greyden James. The mate who walked away after one night together. The man who almost destroyed her life.

  “Well?” he asked impatiently. “Why do you smell like my mate?”

  She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Backing up until the counter halted her retreat, she kept shaking her head. As if that alone would get rid of him.

  “Are you mute? Do you not understand the question?”

  “Hey,” Keegan said loudly. She came around the counter to stand between her and him. “Back off, buddy.”

  “She smells like my mate. I just want to know why.”

  “I … I…” Zenia’s heart raced as she tried to draw air into her desperate lungs.

  Greyden tilted his head, studying her. “Is she okay?”

  Zenia shook her head. She was lightheaded, dizzy from lack of oxygen. Her legs gave out and she slowly crumpled, sliding down to sit.

  “Zenia!” Keegan shouted, rushing toward her.

  Greyden followed, kneeling on her other side. She couldn’t stop staring at him. There wasn’t one bit of recognition in his gaze. Was she so forgettable?

  “I’m going to call Jericho,” Keegan said, pulling her phone from her back pocket. “Alpha? It’s Keegan. Something is happening to Zenia. Can you come to the coffee shop? Okay. Thanks.”

  She disconnected the call.

  “He’s on his way,” she said.

  Greyden reached out as if he was going to touch her, but at the last moment he withdrew. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

  “No shit, Sherlock,” Keegan snapped. “She’s catatonic. Who are you?”

  “I’m here for a meeting with Alpha Jericho,” he replied. “I’ve never met her, yet she seems familiar.”

  “Well, it seems she knows you.”

  The door opened and Alpha Jericho hurried inside, glancing first at Greyden and then spotting Zenia on the ground. In three strides he reached her and knelt.

  “Zenia,” he murmured, placing one finger under her chin. He turned her face toward him even though her gaze remained on Greyden. “Look at me.”

  He put enough alpha command in the order to force her to turn away. She blinked as Jericho swam into view.

  “Alpha,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  Her gaze darted to Greyden and then back again. “He doesn’t remember. He’s forgotten me.”

  It took a moment until realization dawned in his eyes. Almost immediately, his mouth tightened in anger. “He’s the one?”

  She nodded.

  “Keegan, take her to Payton at the diner,” he ordered.

  “What about the shop?”

  “I’ll watch it until you come back.”

  “Yes, Alpha.”

  Keegan took hold of Zenia’s hands and helped her up. Greyden stood with her, staring intently. His focus burned like acid. When Greyden had walked away, she mourned, not quite knowing what had happened. In her anguish, her wolf howled with despair before disappearing. Losing such a vital part of her soul made her weak and emotionally fragile, and she’d gone through years of therapy just to be stable enough to have some kind of life. She still took anxiety medicine, which was unusual for a shifter.

  “Zenia? Did you hear? I want you to go to Payton.”

  “Okay,” she whispered shakily.

  “Wait,” Greyden said, reaching out to grab her arm. “I want to know why she smells like my mate.”

  She flinched away and he released her. Confusion highlighted his eyes.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he said.

  “You already have,” she said, turning to Keegan who put her arm around her and led her out the door. Zenia breathed through her heartache, wishing she had never met Greyden James.

  ****

  Greyden narrowed his eyes as he watched Zenia leave. Something flickered to life in his memory, although he had a hard time grasping it and pulling it forward. Why did the woman seem so familiar? She had mentioned that he didn’t remember … but remember what? Had they met somewhere?

  “Why did you do it?” Jericho asked, his tone cold.

  He was so confused. “What is it I did?”

  Jericho studied him, and Greyden threw his shoulders back. He did not expose his neck because this wasn’t his alpha. His own power was enough to ignore any command.

  “Do you really not remember her?”

  He shook his head. “Who is she?”

  “Tell me something,” Jericho said, folding his arms across his chest. “Five years ago, did you attend the yearly gathering of the packs in Canada?”

  “The Assembly,” Greyed replied. “Yes, I met my mate there.”

  “Your mate?”

  “Yes. I met my mate there. That woman, Zenia, her scent … I followed her in here to find out why, and how, she smells just like my mate.”

  Jericho studied him. “I don’t scent deception on you, but I also know what that woman has gone through.”

  Greyden frowned. “What has she gone through?”

  “None of your business if you don’t remember.”

  Greyden looked away, trying hard to clear his sluggish thoughts. “I’m trying to, but it’s like moving through quicksand.”

  “Are you trying to say you have amnesia?”

  “No,” he replied. “Of course not. I just … most of that day is perfectly clear. But there are patches of missing memories. That doesn’t make any sense, does it?”

  Jericho crossed his arms over his chest. “Let me tell you that you did meet your mate there. That mate is Zenia.”

  Greyden shook his head. “No.”

  “No?”

  He went to say it was impossible. A shifter knew his mate at first smell. As much as he wanted to deny the claim that somehow Zenia was his mate, something held him back. Her dark-eyed stare seemed familiar for some reason, although he couldn’t pinpoint why.

  “Zenia met her moon-fated mate five years ago, at the Assembly,” Jericho continued. “You and she spent one night together, and then the next morning you disappeared. The rejection caused her wolf to retreat, hiding so she didn’t have to mourn the man who didn’t love her.”

  “That’s not me,” Greyden declared. Except, why weren’t the words matter-of-fact? Why did Jericho’s story ring with a feeling of truth? “It can’t be me.”

  Jericho cocked his head. “It can’t?”

  “Why does she smell like my mate?” he asked again, more to himself than to Jericho. “That’s impossible, right? Two people can’t smell the same. I can’t have two mates. Can I?”

  “Tell me what you remember from that day.”

  Greyden searched his memories. “I arrived with my pack and went exploring the vendors. I caught the scent of … um. Wait. I don’t remember how I saw her. She was just there.”

  He closed his eyes, concentrating. Trying to remember. All he got were flashes. How the cool breeze made strands of auburn hair dance. They way his hand curled around her soft shoulders. Were they memories of her, or something his mind just conjured? His mate wasn’t a redhead.

  “You arrived in the day?”

  Greyden opened his eyes and noticed those flashes disappeared.

  “Yes. But then, suddenly it was night. I have no memory of the time between.” He looked at Jericho wide-eyed. “What the fuck is happening to me?”

  “I think someone has tampered with your memories.”

  “That makes no sense. Who?”

  “That’s what we have to find out. I’d like to take you down the street to an enchantress. Perhaps she can shed some light on your missing memories.”

  Chapter Two

  Five Years Ago

  Zenia didn’t know where to look. The annual gathering of the packs was like a huge carnival with rides, games, and food. This was the first time she and her best friend, Layton, were able to attend. Zenia’s parents didn’t allow her to attend for fear she’d find her mate at fourteen and leave them.

  There was an acre of vendors, selling everything from homemade preserves to fur-softening cream. Tattoo artists, barbers, face painters. Anything or everything one could want was there. She and Layton walked through the rows, staring wide-eyed at the fanfare. Wolves from all over North America gathered to form alliances, settle grievances, and find mates. Zenia had this feeling she was going to find hers, so she made sure to keep her senses open and her eyes roving over everyone.

  “Who needs a stuffy old mate?” Layton asked.

  “I do,” Zenia replied. “Can you believe all this? It’s amazing!”

  “They are amazing,” Layton purred, staring at something. Zenia followed her gaze and saw two big, extremely handsome men who seemed just as into her as she was with them.

  “Layton,” Zenia hissed. “They’re old.”

  “So? That just means they know what to do with their dicks.”

  Zenia scrunched up her nose. “Must you be so vulgar?”

  “Don’t get your panties in a twist,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’d be a lot less stuck up if you let a man stick it up. If you know what I mean. Okay, this vendor thing is boring. Want to come and introduce yourself?”

  “No, thanks.”

  Layton shrugged. “Your loss. See you later.”

  She wiggled her fingers goodbye.

  “Layton,” Zenia called out to her friend, but she was already gone.

  Biting her lip, she continued checking out the vendor stalls, smiling at people and getting samples of all kinds of food. Layton was fickle, always looking for something wild and fun. She was always chasing after boys or doing something reckless. But that was Layton, and Zenia never judged. When her friend got tired of the men she’d be back and they’d laugh and have fun.

  As she turned to walk down another aisle, a sweet scent drifted to her. Cedar with hints of vanilla. It made her mouth water and she looked around for the source, but the breeze carried it away. Eyes wide, she went hunting for it again. It became an addiction, because in the back of her mind she knew this was her mate’s scent. She walked faster, almost frantic, letting his scent lead her like a beacon in the night. And then, just ahead, stood a man. Tall, muscular, with dark hair, he talked with a vendor. Zenia stood there, unable to take her eyes off him. She had hunted him and now she was afraid to move.

  A cooling breeze lifted her hair, and a moment later, her mate suddenly snapped to attention. He glanced around, frantically looking, and when their gazes met everything seemed to disappear. They were all that existed in their little bubble. Then the man marched toward her, determination on his face. Zenia did the same, rushing forward, and then they came to a stop in front of each other. He bent his head and ran his nose up the side of her neck. A little moan escaped her lips and he answered with a growl.

  “You’re my mate,” he said in a husky voice.

  “Yes,” she acknowledged. “My name is Zenia.”

  “I’m Greyden.” He reached for her hand and threaded their fingers together. “Come on. Let’s go sit and talk.”

  She nodded her acquiesce, and he tugged her through the crowd and past vendors until they reached a hill where the branches of a tall tree shaded them from the burning sun. As they sat across from one another, she studied him just as he studied her. Her heart hammered in her chest, excitement causing butterflies to dance low in her belly.

  “I’m Greyden James,” he said softly. “From the Kaudiff Pack in Idaho.”

  “I’m Zenia Zierdan. Sheridan Pack in Colorado.”

  “ZZ.” He grinned down at her. “Is this the first time you came to this gathering?”

  She nodded. “I turned eighteen a couple of months ago. My parents didn’t let me come when I was younger in case I found my mate. Which is you. So, I guess they were wise to be cautious.”

  He grinned. “I’m two years older than you.”

  “Are you in college?”

  “Not anymore,” he replied. “Took online classes since attending wasn’t an option. Now I train under my father, who’s the alpha. My hope is to expand our pack by creating jobs and affordable housing. Bring in any lone wolves who want to return to pack life or anyone wanting a change of scenery.”

  “I’m kind of that second one,” she admitted quietly. “The alpha we have is awful.”

  He reached out and lightly caressed the back of her hand. “You have a new home now. With me. And my dad is awesome.”

  She ducked her head, smiling. Greyden lifted her chin with a finger.

  “You don’t have to be shy with me,” he murmured, pushing some hair behind her ear. “You’re so beautiful. I’m a lucky man.”

  Chapter Three

  “Zenia.”

  She blinked as the memory faded. Luna Payton sat in front of her, brows furrowed in concern. Zenia didn’t remember the walk to the diner. Didn’t remember sitting down at a table. Apparently, she did since it’s where she was.

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “He’s here,” she replied dully. “My mate. But he doesn’t remember me. How could he completely wipe all traces of me out of his mind?”

  Payton covered her hand with one of her own. “Sometimes, people are cruel for no reason, but it has nothing to do with you. It’s not your fault. You are a sweet, kind woman, and if he can’t see that, it’s his loss.”

  “I thought I was getting better,” she whispered achingly. “But I feel just as raw as the day it happened. I hate that he did that to me. I hate he can erase all the work in a single moment.”

  “I know,” Payton said. “But you’re not alone this time. You have me and you have Jericho. We won’t let you fall again.”

  “Me too!” Esmeralda plopped onto a chair. “What precisely did he say to you?”

  “He said he couldn’t—”

  The old woman waved that away. “No, not that. Before.”

 

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