Chapter 2 Whispers of Another

Lyra POV

I jolted awake, heart hammering against my ribs, the nightmare's tendrils still clinging to my consciousness. Dawn's pale fingers stretched across the sky outside my window, casting long shadows through the unfamiliar room I'd called home for two years—Dominic's territory, Crimson Pine Pack. Nestled in the rolling hills east of Vancouver, Washington, it was supposed to be my safe haven. But two years in, it still felt foreign.

I pressed my palms against my eyelids, willing the images away—my father's massive gray form surrounded by enemy wolves, the sudden snap of our pack bond that told me he was gone, and my brother's last look before he lured the enemy away and vanished into the night, never to return. The blood. Always so much blood.

Two years had passed since Dominic rescued me—injured, terrified, and cornered in the forest. Two years since I'd felt the electric shock of recognition when our eyes met—the unmistakable mate bond. Two years of marriage without being marked, two years of sleeping in separate bedrooms in this sprawling Alpha house, two years of waiting for him to claim me as his Luna in more than just name.

I'd tried everything. For the first six months, I'd attempted to seduce him countless times, wearing provocative clothing, accidentally-on-purpose bumping into him in the hallway, even outright inviting him to my bed. Each time, he'd pulled away with the same pained expression, telling me to be more "patient."

Eventually, I'd accepted there must be something wrong with him physically. It explained the frequent visits he made with the pack doctor to the small cabin deep in the woods behind Alpha house—the area he'd explicitly forbidden me from approaching.

"Private business," he'd said curtly when I'd asked. "That area is off-limits to you. Don't go near it." The Alpha command made disobedience impossible.

I sighed and slipped from bed, padding to the bathroom. The face that stared back at me from the mirror looked tired, green eyes shadowed. For a year, I'd filled my days with community college literature classes among humans who had no idea what I was. The distraction helped, as did my quiet mission to find Jason. Unlike Father, I never felt the bond with my brother snap completely. He could still be alive.

My human friend at college—an intelligence analyst who had no idea he was helping a werewolf—had promised to discreetly look for any signs of my brother. The thought gave me hope as I prepared for the day.

Today was the full moon, the night of the Moon Gathering. Despite being Luna in title, I had no real duties. At first, I'd been grateful for Dominic's apparent concern for my traumatized state, but as months passed and I healed, I'd asked repeatedly to take on some responsibilities.

Finally, just last month, he'd grudgingly allowed me to help with preparations for pack ceremonies. Simple tasks, really—organizing tables, arranging decorations, preparing ceremonial herbs—but they'd given me purpose. A place in the pack that had never fully accepted me.

I dressed quickly and headed toward the pack hall, eager to start my limited duties. The morning air carried the scent of excitement—wolves always grew restless as the full moon approached.

"Luna." Marcus's voice stopped me before I reached the hall. Dominic's Beta approached with his usual severe expression. I'd never been able to read him well.

"Good morning, Marcus. I was just heading to prepare for tonight's Gathering."

He shifted uncomfortably. "That won't be necessary. Alpha has requested that you remain in your quarters today and rest."

"Rest? But I feel fine—"

"It's an Alpha command," Marcus interrupted, his voice carrying the edge of Dominic's authority. "He insists you rest for the day."

My wolf bristled at the dismissal, but I nodded, forcing a smile. "Of course. If that's what Alpha wants."

As I returned to the Alpha house, my steps lightened with sudden hope. Perhaps tonight would finally be the night. Maybe Dominic had resolved whatever issues had been plaguing him. The frequent visits to the forest cabin with the doctor had increased lately—perhaps they'd succeeded in fixing his problem.

I spent hours preparing myself, taking a long bath scented with lavender and wild rose, carefully applying makeup, selecting a deep emerald dress that brought out the color of my eyes. I styled my brown hair in soft waves, the way Dominic had once absently mentioned he liked.

The house grew quiet as pack members left for the Gathering. Hours passed as I waited in the living room, excitement gradually giving way to doubt, then disappointment. The moon climbed high in the sky, its pull on my wolf growing stronger, yet I remained alone in the silent house.

It was well past midnight when I finally heard the front door slam open. Dominic stumbled in, reeking of whiskey and something medicinal I couldn't place. His amber eyes were unfocused, his movements jerky.

"You're still up." His words slurred together. "Good."

My heart sank. This was not the romantic evening I'd imagined. "You're drunk."

"Not drunk enough." He laughed harshly, stalking toward me with predatory intent. "You look beautiful."

He grabbed my wrist, pulling me against his chest. His scent—usually comforting pine and rain—was tainted by alcohol and desperation.

"Dominic, stop. You're not yourself."

"I'm exactly myself." His fingers tangled in my carefully arranged hair. "Tonight's the night. I need you."

He needs us, my wolf surged forward, responding to our mate despite my human reservations.

"Not like this," I pushed against his chest. "Our first time should be when you're—"

"I'm perfectly clear about what I want." His voice hardened. "I want a child. I've always wanted a child with you."

The declaration should have filled me with joy, but something in his tone sent ice through my veins. Before I could respond, his mouth crashed against mine in a bruising kiss. His hands roamed possessively, destroying the dress I'd chosen so carefully.

I struggled against him, confused by my wolf's conflicting desires. "This was our mate," she wanted to submit. But not like this.

He lifted me effortlessly, carrying me to his room and laying me down with a force that left me breathless. His lips trailed down my neck, rough and demanding, and I clenched my fists in the sheets, fighting the urge to scream. His hands moved with a practiced precision, stripping away the remnants of my dress, leaving me exposed and vulnerable.

When he entered me, it wasn't the union I'd dreamed of—it was raw, almost punishing, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out. My body responded against my will, betraying me with a heat that only deepened my shame. He moved with a rhythm that was all his own, his breath hot against my skin, but his eyes were distant, as if he wasn't really there with me.

At the moment of his release, Dominic had buried his face against my neck—not to mark me as I'd long hoped, but to whisper a name that wasn't mine.

"Isabella..."

The name hung in the air between us, poisonous and irrefutable.

Who the hell was Isabella?