The Luna's Second Chance

Chapter 4: Shadows of the Past

**Damian's POV **

The fall festival was in full swing, laughter and music echoing through Blackwood Ridge, but all I could hear was the relentless thrum of my own thoughts. My gaze lingered on Isla as she chatted with Harper, the two of them illuminated by the soft glow of the festival lights. She looked beautiful, the burgundy sweater hugging her form in a way that made my chest tighten. I could feel the energy between us, an invisible thread that pulled at my heart, but I turned away, unable to let myself feel.

"Damian." Ethan's voice pulled me from my thoughts. My Beta stepped closer, a knowing look on his face. "You can't keep avoiding this."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "What do you want me to say? She's not Lyra."

"No, she's not," Marcus chimed in, crossing his arms. "But she's something different. You felt it, too. You can't deny the bond."

I leaned against the wooden fence, staring out into the distance as I tried to sort through the emotions swirling within me. "I don't want to feel anything. Not after..." I trailed off, my throat tightening as the memories rushed back, a flood of pain that I thought I had buried.

"After what happened to Lyra?" Ethan's voice was firm but compassionate. He stepped closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You lost her, and it broke you. But shutting Isla out won't change that."

I shook my head, frustration bubbling to the surface. "I don't want to put her through the same pain. I can't let her get too close." The image of Isla flashed in my mind, her smile, her determination. The way she had stood her ground in the woods, challenging me. It made me want to pull her in closer but also push her away, all at once.

"You think she doesn't know?" Marcus said, his eyes serious. "You think she can't see how you're suffering? She's strong, Damian. She can handle it."

"Strong?" I scoffed. "She's just a girl. A second choice."

Ethan shot me a look. "She's not just a girl. She's our Luna, whether you want to accept it or not. You don't even have to look at her to see it. The way the pack gravitates toward her, how they're already drawn to her energy... you can't deny that."

"Isla is nothing like Lyra," I said, my voice hard. "Lyra was my mate. My Luna. She was-"

"Pregnant," Ethan finished quietly, the word hanging in the air between us like a specter. "And she died. Both of them. We know. We lost them, Damian. But you can't let that loss keep you from moving forward."

I closed my eyes, the memories crashing over me like waves. I could still see Lyra's radiant smile, the way her laughter could light up the darkest room. I could still feel the joy and excitement we had shared when we learned she was carrying our child. Those moments were tainted by the horror of what happened next-an ambush on a peaceful night, the chaos, and the blood. The moment I had found her lying on the ground, lifeless, my heart shattered beyond repair.

"I don't want to lose anyone else," I whispered, the admission feeling like a dagger to my heart. "Not again."

Ethan squeezed my shoulder gently, understanding etched across his face. "We all feel that pain, Damian. But you can't punish Isla for it. She deserves a chance."

"Do you think she knows?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "About Lyra? About what happened?"

"She doesn't know everything," Marcus replied, his tone measured. "But she knows enough. You should talk to her. Let her in. She may be able to heal what you've buried."

I looked back toward the festival, where Isla and Harper were now laughing over something, their joy stark against the weight in my heart. I didn't want to admit it, but Marcus was right. Isla was different. She had a light that cut through my darkness, a tenacity that made me want to protect her. But the fear of losing her like I lost Lyra held me captive.