"So what happened to Apollo?" I asked, looking into her golden eyes.

"He found a new lover," she said simply with a shrug, and I instantly got angry.

"Figures," I scoffed. "What a jerk!" I said angrily, and she chuckled.

"He did learn to be more confident with his new lover over time, a man named Hyacinth. Like Orion, he too was a beautifully handsome man. Apollo adored him and didn't want to make the same mistake this time around. So he flaunted him proudly," she beamed.

"So that asshole got to live happily ever after with someone else after literally destroying the life of his ex?" I asked, baffled. "This is the reason I hate Alphas. They hold no regard for anyone or anything. They're all a bunch of Apollos," I said, disgusted.

"This story is not a happy one either, my child," she said, cupping my cheek with a somber smile, gaining my interest again. "They were happy for a while, but Hyacinth was truly a beautiful man who had many suitors. He chose Apollo above all the others, and while they did know joy for some time, it was short-lived. Jealousy once again played a part in this tragic tale. Apollo was teaching Hyacinth how to play quoit." She said, and the book opened again with the same golden glow. 

"The game where you throw the metal disk?" I said, remembering it from a book I read before.

"That's the one," she smiled. "Apollo was trying to show off for his lover and threw the disk with all his might. So hard that it split the clouds, but they didn't know they were being watched by Zephyrus, the God of the West Wind—a God who was also one of the men Hyacinth turned down for Apollo. Just like Apollo, Hyacinth wanted to impress Apollo by catching the metal disk to prove his own strength to the sun God. Neither of them knew that Zephyrus had blown the disk back with his wind, and it struck Hyacinth, delivering a fatal blow. Apollo was devastated by the sight of his dying lover in his arms. He tried everything he could to bring Hyacinth back to life, but he was only met with one failure after the next. Apollo mourned his lover for days and ultimately wished to be mortal so that he could join his lover in death. However, that was impossible for a God. So he turned Hyacinth into a flower—the most beautiful flower in our lands," she said, pulling out another book to show me a picture.

"It looks similar to wolfsbane!" I said, earning a smile from her.

"Indeed it does," she nodded. "But not quite. Wolfsbane harms us; Hyacinth heals us."

"That was a very interesting story, Grandma, but what does any of that have to do with imprints?" I asked, confused as both the books closed again.

"Apollo lived his life denying who he was, bringing misery to himself and those around him. When he was finally willing to accept himself and embrace his nature, the misery he spread found its way back to him. I believe your generation calls that karma," she said, with a finger on her chin.

"Okay, but I'm still confused by what you mean. You talk in too many riddles, Grandma," I said, letting out a frustrated chuckle, taking a sip of tea.

"You and this Alpha, Tsuki, have imprinted on each other," she said, making me choke on the tea.

After my violent coughing fit, I blinked at her owlishly. "Wh-what?!" I exclaimed. "I've never seen him before in my life! How could we have an imprint?! For that to happen, I'd have to be—"

"An Omega," she said, cutting me off and looking at me with sad eyes. "I know that you have been told the truth by now. Senex sent me a raven some time ago with his concerns about your 'hot flashes' that you have been trying to hide since the moment you got here, and your pheromones have been leaking out. Amber is such a lovely scent dear, very potent with the perfect balance of sweet and spicy." She left me speechless.

I looked at one of the only people I loved in this world. The only person I didn't have even one negative memory of tell me the one thing I hated hearing most—the thing I'd been denying to myself for weeks. I laughed to mask my anger as the sting of tears pricked my eyes. "Grandma, this isn't funny. I think I'd remember if I had a lover, especially if he were a member of the Luna. It's unheard of! Our packs are forbidden to even date, let alone become mates!!" I scoffed.

"You've not been listening to me, child. Our Gods did not make that rule. It's a rule only among power-hungry wolves," she hissed.

"That still doesn't explain how I know nothing about this. How can I have an imprint I know nothing about?" I argued, looking at her and waiting for the joke to be over.

"That would explain why you're experiencing certain symptoms. An imprint is much like being marked, in a sense. You slowly gain the abilities of your Alpha to make the transition easier once the mark is completed." She moved her hair over her shoulder, showing me her butterfly tattoo. "As an Omega, I fully gained my powers once your grandfather marked me. This tattoo is a symbol of our bond and the magic he trusted me with." The tattoo glowed a little less bright than when I caught a glimpse of it earlier. "When he died, it felt like a part of my soul left with him, and my magic pales in comparison to what it once was. That's why my mark continues to fade when it once shined so bright you could see it from miles away if I wanted. It's our way to show how proud we are to be marked," she beamed.

"But Grandpa was a kind Alpha—"

"And you assume that this Tsuki isn't?" she asked, cutting me off. "An imprint cannot be one-sided, my child. Your souls have to be compatible, and your hearts have to be in agreement for one to form."

I shook my head in disbelief at her words. None of what she was saying made sense to me. "You're telling me I fell in love with an Alpha, a wolf I've only seen twice in my life?"

"You told me he called you something you didn't understand when he saw you. What was it again?" she asked.

"Himawari..." I muttered to myself, looking at the ground, confused why I remembered it so clearly and why it made me sad.

"Sunflower," she said, causing me to look at her.

"What?" I said with a frown.

"It means 'sunflower' in Tsuki's native tongue," she said, looking into my eyes. "When you were little, you used to go on and on for hours about a friend you had who called you Himawari. You were so happy back then," she said, her eyes filled with sadness.

"So you mean I knew him from before, when I was a kid? Why wouldn't I remember any of this? None of this makes sense, Grandma. I'm sorry, but this is a ridiculous story." I felt a familiar migraine emerging in my head.

"You asked me earlier what I meant by saying the spell was being undone. The person who put a spell on you was you." My eyes went wide with shock. That had happened a lot today. "Although how an Omega has magic without a mark escaped even your father, you were born with it. My daughter, your mother, was very proud of that! Her Omega son was the first to ever be blessed with such a gift from Apollo, but your father didn't share her sentiments. I'm not sure if it was jealousy, fear, or a mixture of both. He did everything in his power to bind your magic, but it only grew even stronger still. Until one day, it just disappeared, and you with it. You ran away, and he spread the word that you had died. I knew it was a lie because I could still sense you. So I've watched you from afar while keeping myself alive in this space, always making sure to keep my promise to my baby girl," she said, tears filling her eyes.

"Mom?" I asked, and she nodded in response.

"I told her I would protect you from him, and I have been using my magic to sustain this place." She motioned around the cottage, but I knew she meant this realm. "Hoping that the day would come that you would realize who and what you truly are while shielding you from him. I've prayed to Apollo that you wouldn't make the same mistakes he did. You must accept yourself, sunshine. Denying who you are will only bring misery to you and the ones you love," she said, tears flowing from her eyes, and I realized that I was crying as well.

"But Grandma, I—it's too hard being an Omega! They're so weak!!" I said through clenched teeth.

"Is that what you think of me, of your mother, or of yourself?!" she asked incredulously, causing me to look at her, realizing what I'd just said.

"N-no! No, of course not, but Omegas aren't respected—"

"Respect is earned, not given, and if not given, demanded!" she said sternly.

".....How did I put a spell on myself?" I asked, wiping my tears.

"It's a spell whose intricacies are unknown to me, but it's often done in times of extreme distress from what I've heard. The caster usually doesn't know they've done it," she said, standing up and walking toward a cabinet.

"And it causes memory loss," I said, trying to understand.

"It can get rid of anything that the caster thinks causes them pain," she clarified, walking toward me holding something.

"And Tsuki was a part of that pain?" I said, looking at her with a furrowed brow.

"I know what you're thinking, but you can't stay away from him, not now. The imprint won't allow it, dear. That's why you can't stop thinking about him and having your hot flashes. The symptoms will only get worse, stronger over time. They can be mental or physical, depending on the strength of the bond," she said, her tone warning.

"So what? I'd literally get sick if I don't go to him? Like some dog going to its master!" I said, annoyed.

"No!! Like one half of a soul trying to feel complete again by finding the other. Like yin and yang. Now that the spell is weakening, I'm not sure what all will happen, but you've had an imprint with him since you were kids. To be apart from him for so long.... most wolves don't even survive a year," she said, shaking her head.

"Is there a way to break the bond?" I asked, hopeful.

"Rosie!! You—"

"Grandma, just—please just tell me," I cut her off in a pleading tone, but she shook her head.

"It would be different if it were one-sided, but the imprint is mutual. The only way to break a mutual imprint is death, sunshine. They make for more powerful bonds once the mark is completed," she said, causing me to sigh in defeat.

"I—this is too much!" I said, rubbing my temples as the effects of a migraine bloomed. "How am I supposed to even talk to him? I'm a rogue, he's an Alpha, and he's engaged to this crazy woman! And literally no one will support this! I don't even support this!" I said, putting my hand on my chest.

"The Gods support it, or they wouldn't have made it so... I support it," she smiled gently, making me blush.

"I—I don't even know him!" I protested.

"Which is why you shouldn't judge him so hastily," she said, interjecting my excuses. "Take your time, but know that what you feel, what you're feeling—he's going through the same thing. But the difference is, he didn't have the help of magic to make him forget his pain," she said, looking into my eyes. "Your memories will return to you slowly unless you meet a trigger. It can be very overwhelming either way, so try to take it easy. Most importantly, you need to go back to him, but since I know just how stubborn you can be, I'm going to give you this." She handed me a small red sack tied up with a golden ribbon.

"What is this?" I asked, confused, looking at her.

"Open it," she said, smiling gently.

I opened the small bag, and inside was a handful of small purple flowers. "Hyacinth..." I said breathlessly.

"Only use this when you really need it, Rosie, and keep them hidden. Now, your friends are looking for you. It's time for you to go. I've used too much magic sustaining such a long visit," she said, kissing my forehead.

"Will I see you again?" I asked, looking at her with sad eyes.

She smiled without answering my question. "When you see me again, it will be when you need me the most," she said, guiding me toward the door of her cottage.

I started to ask her what that meant, but I knew I'd just get more cryptic answers. So I hugged her tightly, and she hugged me back just the same. "I love you, Grandma," I said with my eyes closed. 

"And I love you, my sweet Rosie," she whispered in my ear, and then I felt cold air surround me. When I opened my eyes, I was back in the snowy forest. I looked at my hand, holding the small red sack—the only thing letting me know what I experienced was real.