Get up.

The bathroom was still steamy from her shower by the time Mary's eyes fluttered open. She blinked, pushing her damp brown hair from her face as she took in her surroundings. A soft draft of cool air from the open door occasionally brushed against her bare legs, the familiar space of her motel room visible through the doorway.

Oh, she thought, giving a sigh as she gruffly rose onto her feet from where she was sat besides the toilet. How long have I been out?

Roughly, about an hour and a half, her mates voice breathed through their link and her heart immediately fluttered.

Wiping her hands against her green spaghetti strap, Mary retreated from the bathroom, slowly, and gazed around the room expectedly. Where are you? She asked him, suspicious.

I'm away on business remember? He chuckled, You've always been pretty forgetful.

Mary frowned, pushing up the window blinds as she peered out the glass. It was snowing, and for some reason the sight made her stomach churn. She took a step back, rubbing her head as a faint headache made way.

Yanking up the pair of black leggings from the floor, she pulled them on before sitting on the edge of the bed to tug on her boots. She froze afterwards, suddenly sitting up straight as her eyes stared hard at the floor. I miss you, she tried, but to her dismay, her mate did not respond this time.

She rubbed her lips together, her vision unfocusing as the room flashed twice. Mary please, a voice, much like her own, boomed within her skull, and evidently, the headache beating at her head worsened to an unbearable pounding. I'm just trying to help you!

"Shut up!" Her yell rasped against the room's walls and desperate, she slapped her hands over her ears. "Shut up I don't want to hear it!"

Mary-

With her face twisting into a heavy glower, her body jolted as she shot up and spun, slamming her foot against the side of the bed. It scratched loudly across the wooden floor before smashing against the wall and with unstable strain, she found herself fighting the urge to further her aggression.

She gripped a fistful of her hair as she pulled her eyes away from the frail bed frame. "Air" she concluded hoarsely. "I just need to get some fucking air."

And with that said, she turned around, quickly heading towards the door as she snatched up her jacket and a wad of cash on her way out. She emerged onto the upper floor of the motel, a slim black railing barricading the drop to ground level, and offering view of the town below. The sun was high in the sky, it's bright rays warming her arms before she began to tug her jacket on, only to stop midway.

It was hot.

Hurried cars took to the streets, and people of all shapes and sizes bustled the shops and restaurants lining the sidewalk. Most wore flip flops, and the joggers that did appear, barely wore clothes on their sweaty bodies. Butterflies danced on lively flowers, and the street cats took to the pavement to bask and sleep under the sun.

Mary blinked. Where am I? she thought to herself, deciding against the black jacket and instead, tying it around her waist.

She descended the stairs to her right, walking backwards for a moment to catch a glimpse of the beat down motel name. Wavington's Stay, the huge bland sign read, and confused, Mary scratched the top of her head, turning around to stare at the lively town again. It felt familiar, though her blank mind did nothing to help conjure up any known memory of the place.

But she left the motel's parking lot without a second thought, joining the busy folk on the sidewalk as her feet unconsciously led her forward. Wavington. The people around all seemed to know each other, and from the looks of it, the town itself was small, almost secluded even.

A raw smell hit her nose, it's scent strong, and tilting her head back she inhaled deeply, whiffing it in. Everyone smelled heavily of blood. The women, the teens, the men, and even the children. There was only one creature she knew that consistently had the stench no matter how good they worked to mask it. Vampires, and from the looks of it, the whole town.

"Oh Mary!" At the call of her name, Mary froze, almost causing a running child to crash into her behind.

A short plump woman hurried to her from outside a flower shop, and before Mary could comprehend what was happening, arms weaved around her. The lady hugged her as though they'd known each other forever. "If I would've known you were back in town I would've let Sandra know!" the lady exclaimed, beaming as she finally let go.

Mary frowned, "Sandra?" She questioned slowly.

"My daughter," the lady laughed, and Mary tilted her head at the sound. "It's me honey... Ann. Don't you remember me?"

Ann's smell was familiar, a deep floral, mixed with vanilla and blood. She let her eyes drag up and down the woman's boxy frame, before slowly leaning in to visibly sniff her shoulder. A forgotten memory of Ann brushing her hair from her face jerked her brain aggressively.

"Maybe," she finally drawled, but before Mary could work up another question, Ann had began to drag her across the street towards a small shabby red building.

"Dean's going to be ecstatic when he sees you dear," Ann smiled warmly, and as they pushed through the black door of the building, a lively bar welcomed them. It was a simple one, with a wide bar and scattered tables, but the people inside seemed to make the most of it.

Mary breathed a shaky breath, and Ann, pointing towards a man with his back to them behind the bar, excused herself to get Sandra. She felt like her brain was lagging, withholding memories of the time she had supposedly spent in this place, and because of that, she could feel her frustration grow.

Why had she come to a place like this?

Stiffly, she moved towards the man at the bar, a small frown creasing her brows as a wave of familiarity rippled through her body. He was a tall man with wavy black hair cut at the shoulders, his frame wide but lean.

"Aidan?" she unconsciously spoke, and as the man turned to look at her, his face flashed two faces at once.

She blinked rapidly, and was overtaken by another memory, now of the man she stood in front of. He was holding her face with tears streaming down his cheeks, his red eyes full of plead. And then another one came, of her standing above him sleeping, before turning and walking out a door.

Dean, she harshly corrected herself.

"Mary," Dean eyes widened, his gaze giving her a once over before he leaned against the bar with worry pinching his brows. "What the hell were you thinking?"

When realizing she wasn't going to reply, he reached behind the counter and slapped a paper in front of her. It was a wanted poster, and her face was plastered dead smack on the front. Mary Travil wanted for treason against the royal family, it read.

"That piece of shit," she breathed. Her gaze grew hard as she stared at the paper, it's words repeating themselves within her head like a hammering drum. After a minute she gave a chuckle, her lips twisting downwards before she snatched the paper up and crumbled it within her palm.

Now you remember, huh? The voice from before bombarded her, and immediately, the headache that had ceased, forced it way back against her skull. If you had just let me talk, I would've reminded you you stumbled upon this place after our mate-

Shut up. She demanded, and slowly, her eyes repeatedly cut to her surroundings, her frustration peaking once more. Your name is Mary Travil. You are a werewolf. You're a royal, the king's daughter. Mated to Aidan Bust. Our mate-

She clenched her fists, her lips twitching as everything came rushing to her at once. This always happened, the abandonment of her memories, but it never took long for her to regain what she'd forgotten. Her wolf made sure of that, unconsciously bringing her back to places she had known.

And she hated it.

"Look," Dean muttered, folding his arms across his chest as he gave a sigh. "If the wolves were desperate enough to come here, that means what you've done must be pretty serious. I don't know what's going through that head of yours, but Aidan is-"

She had grabbed him so quick even she couldn't comprehend. Her fingers clamped around the bottom of his face, and she would've yanked him clean over the bar if it wasn't for him taking hold of the flimsy wood between them.

Slowly, she stood, lowering her face until they were eye level, and his gaze flashed a bloody red as her grip on him tightened. She bared an open mouthed scowl, her next words laced with venom, "Keep his name out your fucking mouth."

___________

Author-

Hey guys, I hope you like the chapter. Let me know if any of you guys notice any things that "stand out" about Mary. What's your thoughts about what has happened so far? Do you think Mary is a good person, or a bad person? <3