Consciousness returned to me like waves lapping at the shore—gentle at first, then with growing insistence. My eyelids fluttered open, and I found myself lying in an unfamiliar bed with silk sheets so soft they felt like clouds against my skin. The room around me was bathed in warm amber light from a fireplace crackling in the corner, illuminating rich mahogany furniture and walls adorned with elegant paintings.
This wasn't the Moonstone Pack house. This wasn't my sparse, neglected room.
As my vision cleared, I noticed a tall figure standing by the window, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the morning light filtering through heavy curtains. He turned at the sound of my movement, and I caught my breath. His eyes—a striking silver-blue that seemed to glow with an inner light—fixed on me with an intensity that made me shrink back against the pillows.
"Olivia," he said, his voice deep but surprisingly gentle. "You're finally awake."
Something about him radiated power—an aura so commanding it made Alexander's seem like a pale imitation. Yet there was no cruelty in his gaze, only concern and something else I couldn't quite place. Relief? Recognition?
"Who are you?" I whispered, my voice hoarse. "Where am I?"
He approached slowly, as if afraid of startling me, and sat in a chair beside the bed. "My name is Ethan Harrison. You're in my home, in the Silver Crest territory. I found you in the sacred circle after you performed the rejection ritual."
Memories flooded back—Alexander's final threat, my desperate flight through the dark forest, the searing pain as I severed our bond. My hand instinctively went to my chest, expecting to find the familiar ache, but there was only a dull emptiness where the mate bond had once been.
"Why did you bring me here?" I asked, wariness creeping into my voice. Three years with Alexander had taught me to expect the worst from powerful males.
Ethan's expression softened. "Because I've been looking for you for eighteen years, Emma."
Emma? The name struck something deep within me, like a bell ringing in a forgotten chamber of my heart.
"My name is Olivia," I corrected him, though the words felt strange on my tongue.
"No," he said firmly but gently. "Your name is Emma Harrison. You are my sister."
The world seemed to tilt on its axis. I gripped the sheets to steady myself as he rose and walked to a dresser across the room. He returned with a framed photograph and placed it in my trembling hands.
It showed a family—a stern-faced man with the same silver-blue eyes as Ethan, a beautiful woman with a warm smile, a young boy who was unmistakably a younger version of the man before me, and a small girl with wide, curious eyes. My eyes.
"That's our family," Ethan said quietly. "You were taken from us when you were just four years old. We've been searching for you ever since."
He handed me another document—a DNA test result with highlighted sections showing a sibling match between Ethan Harrison and Olivia Reed.
"This can't be real," I whispered, though deep down, something resonated with terrible truth. "I'm Olivia Reed. I'm the adopted daughter of the Reed Pack Alpha."
"Adopted," Ethan emphasized, his jaw tightening. "Or more accurately, stolen. The Reeds found a lost pup—you—and instead of returning you to your rightful family, they kept you, renamed you, and raised you as their own. All to use your future mate bond for their political gain."
My mind reeled with implications. If what he said was true, then everything I knew about myself was a lie. I wasn't Olivia Reed, the unwanted, wolfless Luna. I was Emma Harrison, daughter of the Silver Crest Alpha.
"I don't have a wolf," I said, the words catching in my throat. "I lost her in the rogue attack when I saved Alexander."
Something flashed in Ethan's eyes—anger, but not directed at me. "Your wolf isn't gone, Emma. She's been suppressed, hidden away so deeply you can't feel her anymore. But she's still there."
Hope—dangerous, painful hope—flickered to life in my chest. "How can you know that?"
"Come with me," he said, extending his hand. "There's someone you need to meet."
Still dazed, I slipped from the bed, noticing I'd been dressed in a soft nightgown. I followed Ethan through a maze of hallways until we reached a hidden alcove tucked away in what appeared to be the oldest part of the house.
There, waiting in the shadows, stood a tiny, ancient woman with skin like weathered parchment and eyes that seemed to hold the wisdom of centuries.
"Emma Harrison," she said, her voice surprisingly strong for one so frail-looking. "I am Elara. I've come to help you find what was taken from you."
