The Luna's Second Chance

Chapter 3: Beneath the Mask

Isla Kingsley

***

The day of the fall festival arrived faster than I expected. The streets of Blackwood Ridge were alive with activity, decorated with strings of orange and gold lights that sparkled in the crisp autumn air. Booths lined the square, offering everything from homemade jams to handcrafted jewelry, and the scent of spiced cider filled the air, warming the chill that came with the fading sunlight.

I had dressed carefully, maybe too carefully. The weather was just cool enough for layers, so I chose a deep burgundy sweater that clung to my curves in all the right places, hugging my waist and flaring slightly at the hips. It was soft against my skin, comfortable, but also flattering. I paired it with fitted black jeans that accentuated the length of my legs, the dark fabric outlining the subtle shape of my thighs. The leather ankle boots I wore added a couple of inches to my height, making me feel more confident than usual. I had even left my hair down, loose waves falling just past my shoulders, the strands catching the soft evening light.

Despite the festivity around me, I felt out of place. My thoughts were tangled in the encounter with Damian two nights ago, and the weight of his rejection still pressed heavily on my heart. I had spent the past few days trying to focus on work at the gallery, trying to forget the way his words had cut through me. But I couldn't escape him. Not when he was woven so deeply into the fabric of this town, into my aunt's life, and now-somehow-into mine.

Aunt Selene had encouraged me to come, probably sensing my unease. Harper had texted me earlier, excited to meet up, so I tried to push the knot in my stomach aside as I walked through the crowd.

The square was buzzing with laughter and conversation, the joy of the town almost infectious. Almost. I caught sight of Harper near a booth selling caramel apples, waving me over with a grin.

"You made it!" she exclaimed, handing me a hot cider. Harper's outfit was effortlessly cute as always-a mustard-colored sweater dress that cinched at her waist, showing off her petite frame, paired with knee-high brown boots. She had a knack for looking both casual and stylish at the same time.

I smiled weakly, taking a sip of the cider. It was sweet and warm, but it did little to ease the cold that had settled in my chest. "Yeah, it's nice."

Harper frowned, clearly picking up on my mood. "You okay? You've seemed a little off lately."

I hesitated. I couldn't exactly tell her the truth. How could I explain the pull I felt toward the town's most feared and admired Alpha? How could I tell her that I was his mate-his second choice-and that he wanted nothing to do with me?

"I'm fine," I said instead, forcing a smile. "Just... a lot on my mind."

Before she could press me further, the crowd suddenly shifted. There was a murmur that rippled through the square, and I turned to see what had caught everyone's attention.

And there he was.

Damian.

He moved through the crowd with an air of command, his tall, broad figure unmistakable. He wore a crisp, smart white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing his strong forearms. The fabric clung to his muscular frame, highlighting his broad shoulders and the lean strength beneath the surface. Paired with dark, tailored pants, Damian looked effortlessly authoritative, the Alpha in him impossible to ignore. Beside him were his Beta, Ethan, and his Gamma, Marcus, both similarly dressed, though they flanked him like shadows, always a step behind, their eyes scanning the area for any sign of trouble.

Damian may have been reserved and distant, but his care for his people was unmistakable. He was speaking with the mayor, overseeing the event with the same focus he brought to everything else. There was no doubt that he loved this town, even if grief still hung heavy over him. The pack, though grieving the loss of their former Luna, still respected him, looking to him for guidance.

People stepped aside as Damian and his men passed, their voices dropping to whispers. Some greeted him respectfully, others simply stared. The festival's light, joyful atmosphere seemed to dim in his presence, as if his mere existence cast a shadow over the celebration.

My heart pounded in my chest as our eyes met. For a brief moment, his gaze softened, and I could see the same flicker of emotion from that night in the woods. But then, just as quickly, his face hardened, and he turned away, focusing back on his duties.

Harper nudged me with her elbow. "You see him? Damian Blackwood. He doesn't come out much, but when he does..." She trailed off, clearly enamored by his presence.

I didn't respond. I couldn't. My mind was spinning, the bond between us pulling tighter, even though he was doing everything he could to push me away. I watched as he stood on the edge of the square, his Beta and Gamma standing nearby, conversing quietly. Even from a distance, I could feel the pull toward him, the connection between us thrumming beneath my skin.

Suddenly, there was a commotion near one of the booths. A man carrying a heavy load of boxes tripped, the weight of his cargo toppling over. My reflexes weren't fast enough to react, and before I knew it, one of the boxes came tumbling toward me.

Everything seemed to slow down as I braced for impact, but it never came.

In the blink of an eye, Ethan and Marcus were there, moving with a speed and precision that took my breath away. Ethan caught the falling box, his strong arms effortlessly lifting it back into place, while Marcus placed a steadying hand on my arm, guiding me out of harm's way.

"You alright, Luna?" Marcus asked, his voice calm but his eyes sharp as he scanned me for any sign of injury.

The word "Luna" echoed in my mind, and I froze, staring up at him. Luna. Did he know?

Before I could respond, Ethan shot Marcus a look, and they both stepped back, their expressions unreadable. They hadn't said much, but I could tell that they both sensed something. The bond between Damian and me, even if unspoken, wasn't invisible to those closest to him. They had protected me as if I were already their Luna, as if they knew I was meant to take that place.

"I'm fine," I managed to say, though my voice was shakier than I'd like to admit. "Thank you."

They both nodded, their movements careful as they returned to Damian's side, who had witnessed the whole exchange. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes-a flicker of recognition, of acknowledgment.

The festival continued around us, but my mind was elsewhere. The words of Marcus still lingered in my mind, and I couldn't help but wonder how much Damian's inner circle knew. And if they knew... how much longer could Damian deny it?

---