“You’re back… you’re back for me, Arabella.”
Except I was not Arabella. I was Melissa, a maid in the Nightfall Pack.
For five years, Alpha Warren claimed he loved me. We got engaged, and he promised to make me his Luna. I never questioned why the wedding kept being delayed—until the day I saw her.
Arabella. A woman who looked exactly like me.
In an instant, my life became a lie. I was never the one he loved; I was just a stand-in, a physical replacement used to fill the void while she was gone. I was doted on only because I shared her face. The moment the real Arabella returned, I was pushed back to where I supposedly belonged: the shadows.
But the world didn't know my secret. Alpha Logan, Warren’s greatest rival, revealed a truth that changed everything: I was the missing heir of the powerful Aragon wolf family.
By the time Alpha Warren realized my worth, it was too late. I was no longer a maid, and I was certainly no longer his.
Now, he kneels before me, desperate and broken.
“Please, I regret everything I did to you… Please…”
I look down at the man who shattered my heart and wonder: Wasn’t I nothing more than Arabella’s imitation to you?
Melissa
The steering wheel felt cold beneath my palms even though the afternoon sun was blazing outside.
I had just finished buying groceries from the market at the edge of Nightfall territory. Fresh rosemary, thick cuts of beef, cream for the mushroom sauce he liked, and the specific brand of red wine he said reminded him of “better days.” I always chose everything myself. Even though we had servants who could do it for me now, I never let them.
Because he liked my cooking.
Because when Alpha Warren tasted something I made, his cold gray eyes would soften, and for a moment, he would look at me like I mattered.
I placed the last grocery bag carefully on the passenger seat and exhaled. Five years. Five whole years of loving him. Three years of being his lover. Two years of being engaged to him with no wedding date in sight.
He had proposed beneath the silver oak tree behind the packhouse. He had held my hands and said, “You’re the only one who stayed.” I believed him.
I always believed him.
As I drove back toward the packhouse, I passed by his favorite restaurant. Mooncrest Bistro. It was a small but elegant place just outside pack borders, neutral territory where alphas often met for business dinners. He loved it because it served human cuisine with werewolf-sized portions, as he used to joke.
A thought crossed my mind. He had been distant lately. Busy, he said. Meetings, patrols, alliances. He had barely touched the dinner I cooked last night.
Maybe he was stressed. Maybe if I surprised him with takeout from Mooncrest, he would smile the way he used to.
Without overthinking, I parked.
The bell above the restaurant door chimed softly as I stepped inside. The scent of roasted garlic and grilled meat filled the air. My wolf stirred faintly, content at the warmth.
I scanned the room automatically.
And then I saw him. Alpha Warren.
He sat at a corner table near the window, the afternoon light casting a golden glow against his sharp features. He looked… relaxed. More relaxed than he had looked around me in months.
My lips curved into a smile before I could stop myself. He’s here. Perfect.
I adjusted my cardigan, suddenly feeling shy in a way I hadn’t in years, and began walking toward him. I imagined sliding into the seat beside him, teasing him for not telling me he was here, maybe stealing a bite from his plate.
But then I slowed. He wasn’t alone.
Across from him sat a woman. At first, I only noticed her hair. Long. Dark. Falling in soft waves just like mine. Then her profile shifted slightly, and my breath caught in my throat.
Her face structure. Her nose. Her lips. Her smile.
It was like looking into a mirror with minor adjustments. As if someone had taken my face and refined it slightly, polished it into something more elegant.
I stopped walking.
No. This must be coincidence. There are many women with dark hair.
But then she laughed.
And Alpha Warren smiled in a way I hadn’t seen in years.
I moved closer without thinking, hiding behind a decorative column near their table. Close enough to hear. Close enough to see.
He was leaning forward, elbows on the table, eyes warm.
“I know you loved this place since we were kids,” he said softly. “You used to beg your father to bring us here every full moon.”
Her eyes sparkled. “You really memorized everything about me, Alpha.” She reached across the table, brushing his hand. “I can’t wait to marry you and be your Luna.”
Marry. Luna.
The words crashed into me like a physical blow.
My heart skipped, then slammed violently against my ribs.
Marry? But I’m engaged to him.
My fingers trembled as I fumbled for my phone. I dialed his number automatically, my vision blurring.
Across the room, his phone lit up on the table.
He glanced down at the screen.
For a second, I thought he looked startled. Then his expression hardened.
He flipped the phone face down. And ended the call. I stared at him in disbelief. He didn’t even hesitate.
The woman tilted her head. “Who was that?”
“No one important,” he replied smoothly. “Just someone from the pack.”
No one important. Five years.
Five years of sleeping beside him when he woke from nightmares. Five years of enduring the pack’s whispers. Five years of being called “the maid who seduced the Alpha.”
No one important.
I texted him next. Are you busy? I’m near Mooncrest.
His phone buzzed again. He didn’t look this time. He continued speaking gently to her, as if I didn’t exist.
“I’ll take care of everything,” he said. “I just need to settle a few loose ends.”
She smiled shyly. “What about… her?”
Her.
My stomach dropped. He sighed, as though the topic annoyed him. “I’ll drop that maid first. Then I’ll officially introduce you to the pack.”
That maid. The world tilted.
So that’s what I was. A maid. Not his fiancée. Not his future Luna. Just… that maid.
I couldn’t breathe.
My wolf whimpered inside me, confused and hurt. Wolves felt betrayal deeper than humans. The mate bond was sacred to us, even if it wasn’t fated. Even if it was chosen.
I stumbled backward, nearly knocking into a waiter. I muttered an apology I didn’t remember forming and rushed out of the restaurant.
The moment the door shut behind me, I ran.
I didn’t know where I was going. I just ran.
Past parked cars. Past the market stalls. Past the forest edge where pack territory began.
My lungs burned, but I kept going.
Was he seeing another woman in me? Was that why he chose me that night?
The memory slammed into me without warning.
Five years ago.
I was kneeling on the floor of the packhouse hall, wiping spilled liquor from the tiles after another one of his drunken episodes. I was a maid in the Nightfall pack.
The once-powerful Alpha Warren had been broken then. The pack was unstable. He drank until he passed out almost every night.
I had been new. Invisible. Until he grabbed my face.
His fingers had been rough but trembling. He cupped my chin and stared at me like he had seen a ghost.
“You’re back… you’re back for me, Arabella,” he whispered.
Then he collapsed. I wasn’t Arabella. I was Melissa.
But the next day, he sought me out. He apologized. He started talking to me. Slowly, he stopped drinking as much. He smiled again.
He said I saved him.
I thought it was fate. Now I wondered if I had simply been convenient.
I didn’t remember how I got back to the packhouse. I only knew that by the time night fell, I was lying in our bed alone, staring at the ceiling.
He didn’t come home. Or maybe he did. I don’t know. I didn’t turn when the door creaked open. I pretended to sleep.
I didn’t sleep a single second. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face.
My face. No. Her face.
Morning came too quickly. The packhouse was unusually lively. I could hear laughter downstairs, footsteps, excited whispers. My head pounded from the sleepless night.
A young omega maid knocked gently on my door.
“Miss Melissa? Visitors came. Alpha said you should cook. He said… he missed your food.”
Missed. The word made something bitter rise in my throat.
I forced myself to stand. I washed my face with cold water until my skin turned red. I wore a simple dress and tied my hair neatly, the way he liked.
Because I needed to see this through.
When I walked down the grand staircase of the packhouse, the voices grew clearer.
And then I saw them. In the main hall, seated comfortably on the sofas, were two strangers.
A man and a woman. The woman from the restaurant looked even more breathtaking in daylight. She wore a soft cream dress, her posture elegant, her smile gentle.
She looked like me. Or perhaps I looked like her.
Alpha Warren stood beside them. When he noticed me descending the stairs, his expression flickered for a fraction of a second before smoothing into neutrality.
“Melissa,” he said. “Come here.”
I walked forward slowly, every step heavy.
“These are my childhood friends,” he continued. “They just returned from another country.”
The man stood and extended his hand. “Hunter. It’s a pleasure.”
I shook it automatically.
Then Alpha Warren turned to the woman. His voice softened in a way I knew too well.
“And this,” he said, “is Arabella.”
The name echoed in my mind.
Arabella.
Five years ago, he had whispered that name while holding my face. You’re back… you’re back for me, Arabella.
It all made sense now. The way he had stared at me like I was a miracle.
The way he delayed our wedding. The way his affection faded over the past two years.
Because she wasn’t here yet. And now she was.
So all this time… I was never his first choice. I was a replacement. A stand-in.
A shadow of the woman he truly loved.
