Chapter 4: The Truth Of Blood

Brenda’s POV

Zane looked at me as if I were a conundrum that had been solved.

My hands were still shaking from the struggle. My skin's silver radiance had dimmed, but the power remained. It continued to vibrate beneath my skin like a second heartbeat.

"You mean that I am the heir?" I said.

Zane remained silent for a while. He motioned for me to come along. Now that the fire was low, we made our way back into the cave.

He sat down and looked into the fire. "I've been hiding something from you. Something that I doubted you could manage.

I took a deep breath. "Tell me."

He sighed deeply as he looked at me. "You were more than simply an Omega, Brenda. The Lunar Bloodline, which includes wolves born under a rare celestial moon, is what you belong to. Your veins are filled with royal blood.

I blinked. "That isn't possible. My parents—

"—were killed," he uttered quietly. "Slaughtered in secret by Luna Iris and the Lycan Elders." They were afraid of your strength. Feared what would return to the packs through the lineage.

My chest constricted. However, I grew up in a pack orphanage. My parents are not in my memory.

It's because you were concealed. As a baby, you were smuggled out under a false identity by one of your mother's faithful guards. To ensure that no one would ever look twice, you were tagged as Omega.

My eyes welled up with tears. "So I've always been nothing to them. Simply an error—just garbage.

Zane's eyes were burning. "You posed a danger. A threat they buried.”

My entire body trembled. My life, my past, had been a lie. It wasn't just bad luck that caused my suffering. It was prearranged.

Slowly, I raised my look. "So I am not weak?"

Zane smiled a little. "I've never seen a stronger wolf than you."

My new existence was training with Zane.

I could hardly raise my arms at first. My body was still hurting from the strange awakening of power, the exile, and the betrayal. But I got stronger every day.

I learned to listen to the forest from him. How to sense my vitality. How to attack with focus rather than rage.

However, I was upset. Every time I thought of Selene's arrogant face, I felt an uncontrollable rage. Or the icy look of Luna Iris. Or Damian’s voice rejecting me in front of everyone.

There were times when I lost it. I used to yell into the wind. Other times, I just sat alone, trying not to cry, trying not to recall how easily they threw me away.

Zane once threw a blade into my hand and said, "Let it out." "But don't let it control you."

Now my wolf roused frequently. In my head, she said quietly to me. Urged me to take back what was mine.

She snarled, "We are not weak." "We are the anger of the moon."

I was still conflicted. A part of me wants retribution. To set everything on fire.

However, another aspect merely desired tranquillity. Just wanted to be held. Loved.

And despite my best efforts to ignore it, Damian's visage continued to torment me in my dreams.

Back in the Lycan Pack, far from the jungle, Damian paced his chamber with his fists clenched.

There was a problem.

His wolf refused to calm down. The beast inside him snarled each time Selene touched him. Broke. Tried to tear away from her.

He had been irritable. Distracted. Nothing tasted good. It had been days since he had slept comfortably.

Selene attempted everything to soothe him, including kisses, presents, and even wearing his mark.

She always smiled sweetly and said, "Maybe you just need time."

But his instincts shouted otherwise.

Every time he closed his eyes, Brenda’s face flashed beneath his lids.

The pain on her face.

The way she fell.

When she did, the way his heart twisted.

That wasn't typical.

Damian held onto the wall next to him. His skull thumped. He was slipping.

He rushed from the mansion to an ancient stone cottage by the river, where he made his way through the woods.

The herbalist.

Damian snarled, "There's something wrong with me."

He was closely observed by the herbalist, a little, elderly woman with silver hair and sage eyes. "Tell me what has been going on."

He filled her in on everything. The denial. The feelings. The wrath. The link is breaking.

She listened without comment. Then she entered the back room without saying anything.

She came back with a strand of hair and a glass vial.

Damian's forehead wrinkled. "What is that?"

She whispered, "I tested the drinks you've been taking every day." "The ones you get from Selene?"

His blood became icy. "How about them?"

The vial was raised by her. Something is present in them. Something that is prohibited.

His voice was tight as he stepped forward. "What sort of potion is it?"

The herbalist's heavy, stern look met his own.

An elixir for suppression. One that bonds the mating bond. Mask it. Weakens the pull.”

The heart stopped in Damian.

"You were duped," she said.

In his hand, the glass shattered. The fragments dropped to the ground.

"Brenda," he stutter

ed.

Within him, his inner wolf roared.

His mate was her.

His mate had always been her.

He had also thrown her out.