Whispers in the Dark
The night cloaked Silverfang in a shroud of darkness, its secrets hidden beneath the canopy of trees that towered over the pack grounds.
The moon hung high, casting silver light over the courtyard, its glow cold and distant. Selene—or Lysandra, as she was now known—stayed hidden in the shadows of the barracks, her eyes trained on the Alpha's quarters, where Damon Blackwood's presence burned with the intensity of a storm.
Her heart ached, a wound she couldn't heal, but she buried the feeling beneath the mask of her new identity.
She couldn't afford weakness—not now, not when the path to revenge was so close.
"Did you think it would be easy?"
Eira's voice broke through her thoughts, soft yet filled with understanding.
Selene turned, meeting her eyes. Eira had always been the practical one, the one who saw the world clearly even when it was shrouded in lies.
"I know it won't be," she replied, her voice hard as steel.
"But it has to be done."
Riven, ever the cautious one, lingered near the door, his gaze constantly flickering toward the courtyard, where movement shifted in the distance.
He'd been with her through thick and thin—through death, through rebirth, and now, through the careful unraveling of the pack's foundation.
"You've got to be careful," he warned.
"Too many eyes on you now. The Alpha's already suspicious."
"I know," Selene muttered.
"But I need to find something—anything that will expose him. Something that will make them see him for what he is."
Eira nodded, her expression unreadable.
"You'll find it. But be prepared. There's always a price to pay."
Selene didn't respond. She didn't need to. She understood the stakes more than anyone.
With one last glance at her allies, Selene left the barracks, moving through the camp like a shadow. She was no longer the Luna who once stood at Damon's side; she was a ghost, a stranger, a threat waiting to be recognized.
As she approached the archives again, her mind replayed the earlier encounter with Damon. His eyes had lingered on her face for just a moment too long, a flicker of recognition buried deep within their depths.
He had sensed something, some truth that neither of them were ready to confront. But Selene knew it wasn't time to expose herself—not yet.
She slipped inside, her movements quick and quiet, the weight of the task at hand pressing down on her chest.
The room was the same as it had been earlier, the smell of old parchment and dust filling the air.
She moved toward the records, her fingers grazing the shelves as if she could pull the truth from them with a mere touch.
But the file on her—Selene Hale—had been wiped clean, her death rewritten into the narrative of a simple rogue attack. The betrayal.
Damon's part in it. None of it was there. Her mind raced with questions, each one leading her deeper into the web of lies that had entangled her life.
But then, she heard it—a soft shuffle of footsteps behind her, a presence too close for comfort. She stiffened, her senses on high alert.
"Not again," she whispered under her breath.
She spun around, her heart nearly stopping when she saw him standing there—Damon Blackwood, the Alpha, his presence a magnetic force that tugged at her every nerve.
He leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.
His eyes, golden and piercing, studied her like she was a puzzle he had yet to solve.
"You've been here before," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
"I told you not to come back."
"I'm just delivering the scrolls," she replied, her voice steady but laced with a faint edge of defiance.
"I didn't think you'd mind."
Damon took a slow step forward, his eyes narrowing as if he could see through the lies she wove.
"No," he said softly. "You're not just delivering scrolls, Lysandra. You're looking for something. What is it you want?"
Selene fought to keep her composure.
"I told you. I want shelter, food. Safety. What more could a rogue want?"
He took another step, closing the distance between them, his presence overwhelming.
His scent, once familiar and comforting, now felt like a brand, a reminder of everything she had lost.
"You know," he murmured, his voice almost a growl.
"I can't let you go on like this. You're here for something, and I'll find out what it is. Sooner or later."
Her pulse quickened, but she hid it behind a mask of cold indifference.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Alpha."
Damon's gaze darkened, his lips curling into a slow, dangerous smile.
"Don't you?" he said, his tone suddenly soft, dangerous, and filled with a strange amusement.
"You can lie all you want, Lysandra. But I see through you. You don't belong here anymore. You never did."
Selene's heart clenched at the words, but she refused to let him see her weakness. She had died once because of his betrayal. She couldn't afford to die again—not now.
"I'm not the one who doesn't belong here,"she retorted, her voice sharper than before.
"Not anymore."
For a moment, Damon didn't speak. The silence between them thickened, charged with unspoken emotions—anger, fear, regret. But then, he broke the stillness, his voice quieter now.
"You're not the woman I once knew."
He said, his eyes narrowing, as though trying to reconcile the person standing before him with the one he had loved—and betrayed.
"I'm not."
she whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
"But neither are you."
His gaze flickered with something dark, something unreadable.
For a moment, Selene almost saw the man she had once trusted—the man she had loved—beneath the hardened exterior. But it was gone in a flash, replaced by the cold Alpha she had come to despise.
"Get out!"
He ordered, his voice rough and final.
She hesitated for only a second before turning to leave, but not without a final glance at him.
"I'm not the only one hiding something, Damon," she said softly, her words hanging in the air like a challenge.
As she walked away, she felt his gaze on her back, and for a brief moment, she wondered if he had recognized her in some way. But it didn't matter. The game had only just begun.
And this time, she wasn't going to lose.