Chapter 2

Selene POV:

The next morning, the sun streamed into the bedroom I shared with Damien, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. It felt mocking, too bright for the darkness that had consumed my world. I had crept back to our residence in the dead of night, my soul a hollowed-out cavern.

When Damien walked in, fresh from a morning run, his scent of cedar and wind filled the room. Yesterday, it would have made me feel safe. Today, it made my stomach churn with nausea.

"You were sleeping so soundly when I got in," he said, his voice smooth as polished stone. He leaned down to kiss me.

I forced myself not to flinch as his lips touched my cheek. The contact sent a wave of revulsion through me, a vile parody of the electric spark our touch used to ignite. My wolf whimpered, confused and betrayed.

"I was just so tired," I whispered, turning my face into the pillow. "Long shift."

He accepted the excuse without question. Of course he did. I was Selene, the compliant Omega, the tireless healer who lived to serve him and the pack.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his weight dipping the mattress. "I was thinking," he began, his tone casual, "it's been five years since Lyra... since the tragedy with the Stonecrest pack. I think it's time we officially celebrated moving past that shadow. I'll have my parents host a grand dinner."

My blood ran cold. A dinner. A celebration of a lie that had been the cornerstone of my life's destruction. It was so audacious, so cruel, I almost laughed.

Instead, I turned to look at him, schooling my features into a mask of gentle agreement. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, Damien. A new beginning for the pack."

His eyes softened with relief. He saw only what he wanted to see: his sweet, simple mate. "Exactly. I knew you'd understand."

He kissed my forehead and left, whistling softly. The moment the door clicked shut, the mask crumbled. I sat up, my movements precise and deliberate. I needed proof. Hard, undeniable proof that would shatter their perfect world as they had shattered mine.

His study was his sanctuary, always locked. But I knew his secrets. Or I used to think I did. I walked to the sleek, metallic door and keyed in a code on the panel. The date the Moon Goddess had first confirmed our fated bond, the day my life supposedly began. The irony was a bitter acid in my throat.

The door hissed open.

The room was spartan, organized with military precision. But I wasn't interested in the business files on his desk. My instincts, honed by years of betrayal I was only now acknowledging, pulled me toward a large, ornate bookshelf. Behind a row of leather-bound legal texts, my fingers found the hidden seam of a secret compartment.

Inside was a crystal photo album. Not the old-fashioned paper kind, but a data crystal that projected holograms. I activated it.

There they were. Damien, Lyra, and little Leo, laughing on a beach. The three of them building a snowman, wrapped in matching scarves. My adoptive parents, Alpha Richard and Luna Eleanor, smiling proudly as they held Leo, their "grandson." Each image was a fresh stab of betrayal.

I moved to his private terminal. It was encrypted, but he was arrogant. He used simple passwords for things he believed no one would ever access. I tried "L" for Lyra. Access denied. Then I tried "Leo."

A folder opened. It was labeled "L."

My hands trembled as I clicked through the subfolders. There was Leo's official bloodline registration certificate, listing Damien Vance and Lyra Stonecrest as his parents. There was a video file titled "First Shift." I played it. I watched my mate coach his son through the agonizing process of his first transformation, his voice filled with a pride and tenderness he had never once shown me.

In a folder marked "Financials," I found it all. Monthly wire transfers, huge sums siphoned from the Silvermoon Pack's core accounts into a shell corporation registered to the Stonecrest Pack. The payment description was always the same: "L.R. Living Fund."

I took out the blank data crystal I'd brought from the clinic and began copying everything. The progress bar on the screen felt like a countdown timer on my old life. With every file transferred, a piece of the naive girl I had been was chipped away.

As the final file transferred, a faint chime echoed in the room. It wasn't from the terminal. It was from Damien's personal communicator on the desk. A message glowed on its screen.

It was a picture. A still frame from a security feed, showing me sitting at this very desk, a look of horrified discovery on my face.

My heart stopped.

A second message appeared beneath the photo.

*Found what you were looking for, little Omega?*

Lyra. She had access to his security. Of course she did.

Another message buzzed through, the words dripping with venom.

*He only keeps you around because your pathetic Omega scent calms his wolf. You're nothing but a living tranquilizer. Soon, you won't even be that.*

The grief that had been choking me for hours suddenly vanished, burned away by a white-hot rage. The pain didn't disappear, it crystallized. It hardened into a weapon.

She thought I was a pathetic Omega. They all did.

I was about to show them how wrong they were.

---