My steps faltered as I approached the pack’s private lounge, where muffled voices carried through the thick wooden doors. Instinctively, I pressed myself against the wall, ensuring I remained unseen.
“To think Darius married her out of duty,” one voice chuckled mockingly. “If Damian were still around, he’d rip him to shreds for it.”
A second voice chimed in, softer but no less cutting. “Alpha Damian would never have allowed his little sister to end up like this. Such a shame he’s gone.”
I clenched my fists, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. Alpha Damian? Gone? They were talking about my brother—my Damian.
A brief silence followed before someone whispered, “You know, there are rumors he’s not dead. That he survived.”
The air seemed to freeze around me. My breath caught in my throat, and my mind reeled. Damian—alive? How? After all these years, could it be true?
I pressed myself harder against the wall, struggling to stay upright.
The voices inside continued, oblivious to the storm raging in my mind.
“Only Alpha Darius and the elders know the full truth about the Vaughn tragedy. The Luna’s been kept in the dark all this time.”
“Poor thing,” another voice added mockingly. “She was so young when it happened, too easy to manipulate. It’s no wonder she’s so desperate for love.”
My stomach churned, bile rising in my throat. The Vaughn tragedy… My parents, my brother, our entire pack wiped out in a single night of bloodshed. I was only five years old, and my memories were hazy, filled with screams, fire, and the suffocating scent of iron.
I had been told my brother died protecting me, that his sacrifice ensured my survival. But what if it was all a lie?
Selene’s voice rang out, cutting through my spiraling thoughts. “She’s so gullible, isn’t she? Clinging to Darius as if he actually loves her.”
My hands trembled. The betrayal stung more than I cared to admit.
I couldn’t bear to hear another word. Gathering every ounce of composure, I pushed open the door. The lively chatter came to an abrupt halt as all eyes turned to me.
Darius’s arm, which had been draped casually around Selene’s chair, fell away as if burned.
Selene gave me a smug smile, her eyes glinting with challenge. “Luna,” she greeted sweetly, her tone laced with venom.
“I’m not feeling well,” I announced, my voice steady despite the chaos in my mind. “I’m heading back to the quarters.”
Darius stood, his brows furrowing. “Celeste, wait—”
“I’ll manage,” I cut him off sharply, my tone leaving no room for argument. Without another glance, I turned and walked out, my steps quick and purposeful.
The night air was cool against my flushed skin as I hurried back to the manor. Every step brought new questions, new fears. Could my brother really be alive? And if so, why had no one told me?
Once inside my chambers, I locked the door behind me and paced, my thoughts racing. A name surfaced in my mind—a name I had tried to ignore for months.
Damien Blackwell.
The enigmatic Alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack. He had approached me months ago, commissioning my designs for the Bloodstone Pack’s emblem redesign. Our interactions had been brief and professional, but something about him had always felt… familiar.
I shook my head, trying to dismiss the wild thought. It couldn’t be Damian. It couldn’t.
But the whispers I had overheard wouldn’t leave me alone.
I crossed the room and opened the drawer where I kept correspondence with clients. Sure enough, there it was—a handwritten letter from Damien Blackwell himself.
My hands trembled as I read his words, searching for something, anything, that might confirm or disprove my suspicions.
Finally, I grabbed a pen and paper, writing a short, desperate note:
Damien, are you Damian Vaughn?
I hesitated for only a moment before sealing the letter and calling for one of the pack’s couriers.
“Deliver this to Alpha Blackwell,” I instructed, my voice firm.
The courier nodded and left swiftly, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.
Moments later, the door to my chambers burst open, and Darius strode in, his expression dark.
“Why did you leave the celebration?” he demanded, his tone harsh.
“I wasn’t feeling well,” I replied, my voice calm despite the storm inside me.
Darius’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve been distant all night. Is there something you’re not telling me?”
I met his gaze evenly, the years of practiced composure shielding my true emotions. “Perhaps you should ask yourself the same question.”
His jaw tightened, but he said nothing, turning on his heel and leaving the room without another word.
As the door slammed shut behind him, I let out a shaky breath. The truth was clawing its way to the surface, and I could no longer ignore it.
If Damian was alive, I would find him.
No matter what it took.
