The Luna's Second Chance

Chapter 2: Secrets Beneath the Surface

Isla Kingsley

****

The sunlight streaming through the tall windows of the art gallery was a stark contrast to the events of last night. The memory of Damian's eyes-the gold flecks catching the moonlight, filled with raw emotion-was still seared into my mind. I tried to shake it off as I helped my Aunt Selene rearrange some new pieces that had come in from a local artist. The polished wooden floors of the gallery creaked softly underfoot, and the faint smell of paint hung in the air, mixing with the earthy scent of coffee from the small café attached to the gallery.

It was strange, really. Aunt Selene wasn't much of an artist herself. She could barely draw a straight line, yet somehow, she owned one of the most successful galleries in Blackwood Ridge. It wasn't a big town, but the gallery attracted tourists from all over, people who came for the peaceful, picturesque mountains and left with expensive, abstract pieces they probably didn't even understand. I had never questioned where all the money came from. Not until now.

"Isla, could you grab the ladder? I want to move this piece closer to the front," Aunt Selene called out, interrupting my thoughts.

"Sure," I muttered, grabbing the wooden ladder from the storage room and dragging it over. I adjusted the painting she pointed to-a giant splash of color that looked like someone had thrown buckets of paint at the canvas. It wasn't the kind of art I liked, but the customers loved it.

As I worked, my mind wandered back to last night. I hadn't been able to sleep, tossing and turning as Damian's words echoed in my head. *You will never be her.* His rejection had cut deep, but I couldn't stop thinking about the way he looked at me, the storm behind his eyes. There was something broken in him, and even though I didn't want to admit it, part of me wanted to fix it.

But there was more. Something strange about Aunt Selene. She had been acting off since I'd arrived in Blackwood Ridge. At first, I thought it was just because we didn't know each other well, but there was a distance, like she was keeping something from me.

I set the painting down and turned to her, watching as she pretended to examine another piece. "Aunt Selene," I started, hesitating. "How did you... afford all this?"

She blinked, caught off guard by my question. "The gallery? Well, I've been running it for years, and with the right connections-"

"No," I interrupted, feeling a strange sensation in my chest. "I mean, you've never really been into art. You've said so yourself. And this place... it's expensive. I'm not judging, but where does all the money come from?"

She froze, her back stiffening as if I had just crossed a line. "Isla, we don't need to get into that."

But I wasn't going to let it go. "Aunt Selene, please. I know something's going on."

She sighed, rubbing her temples. "Fine. If you really want to know... I don't make all my money from the gallery. I work for Damian Blackwood."

My breath caught in my throat. Damian? I hadn't seen him since last night, and now his name was suddenly tied to my aunt?

"What do you mean?" I asked slowly, my heart racing.

"I manage some of his investments," she explained, avoiding my eyes. "He's... very wealthy, as I'm sure you've heard. Most of the people in Blackwood Ridge have no idea just how rich he is, but I've been helping him manage some of his assets for years. It's not exactly a secret, but I keep a low profile. And before you ask-no, this isn't anything shady. It's all above board."

I swallowed, trying to process everything. "So, you work for him. That's how you afford the gallery?"

Selene nodded, her expression softening. "Yes, but the gallery is still mine. I run it because I love it, even if I'm not much of an artist myself."

I nodded, but a strange feeling crept over me. Damian was everywhere in this town, his influence woven through every aspect of life here. And now, knowing my aunt worked for him... it made me feel even more connected to him, even if I didn't want to be.

Before I could say anything else, the bell over the door jingled, and a familiar voice called out.

"Isla! I didn't know you worked here!"

I turned to see Harper, one of the only friends I'd made since I moved to Blackwood Ridge. She was a student at the local university, studying environmental science, and we'd bonded over our shared love of coffee and the quiet solitude of the forest.

"I'm just helping my aunt," I replied with a smile, trying to shake off the lingering tension. "What brings you here?"

"Oh, I love this place," Harper said, glancing around at the paintings. "I came by to grab some coffee and see the new exhibit. Are you going to the fall festival tomorrow?"

I had completely forgotten about the festival. It was one of the biggest events in Blackwood Ridge, where everyone in town gathered in the square for food, music, and games. Aunt Selene had been talking about it for weeks, and now that Harper mentioned it, I realized I hadn't made any plans.

"I don't know. I hadn't really thought about it," I said.

"You should come! It'll be fun. A bunch of us are going. Oh, and I heard Damian Blackwood might make an appearance," she added with a mischievous grin, like the thought of seeing the elusive Alpha in public was thrilling. She didn't know, of course. She had no idea that I was tied to him in ways I couldn't even begin to explain.

"I'll think about it," I said, forcing a smile. "But I've got to finish up here first."

Harper nodded, chatting with my aunt as she grabbed a coffee from the café side of the gallery. I watched her leave, a mix of emotions churning in my gut. Part of me wanted to be normal-to go to the festival, hang out with Harper, and pretend like nothing had changed. But deep down, I knew it wasn't that simple anymore.

Later, as the gallery grew quiet again and Aunt Selene left to meet a client, I found myself alone, staring out at the darkening sky. The forest in the distance loomed large and mysterious, its secrets calling to me once more.

I needed answers. About Damian. About this bond between us. About why, of all people, I had been chosen as his second chance mate. And I had a feeling that Blackwood Ridge held more secrets than I ever imagined.

---

****