The Luna's Second Chance

Chapter 8: Shadows of the Past

**Isla’s POV **

The faint sound of birds chirping woke me, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure where I was. The room around me was unfamiliar—bright morning light spilling through the tall windows, the soft smell of clean linens in the air. My head ached slightly, a dull throb reminding me of everything that had happened the night before.

I sat up slowly, my mind racing to piece together the fragments. The rogue attack. My powers... protecting Ella. The last thing I remembered was collapsing into Damian’s arms, the world spinning around me.

Where was I now?

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, my feet touching the cool wooden floor. The guest room was simple but elegant, much like the rest of the house I assumed. Damian’s house. I must have been brought here after I passed out.

Curiosity gnawed at me as I stood, stretching out the stiffness in my limbs. The house was quiet, but there was a faint hum of life somewhere in the distance. My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since the festival.

I padded quietly out of the room and into the hallway. The house was even larger than I had realized—modern, sleek, with clean lines and tasteful decor. Sunlight streamed in through floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the expensive artwork on the walls and the polished floors. It was all so... Damian. Controlled. Refined.

I wandered aimlessly, unsure of where I was going. The house seemed almost too quiet, as though the walls were holding their breath. My steps led me down a hallway, and soon, I found myself standing in front of a door. Something about it felt different.

The air was heavier here, charged with a tension I couldn’t quite explain. My hand hovered over the doorknob, the urge to open it tugging at me. But just as my fingers brushed the cool metal, a voice cut through the stillness.

“Don’t.”

I jumped, my heart pounding as I spun around. Damian stood a few feet behind me, his gaze fixed on the door with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

“That’s... not a room you should be in,” he said quietly, his voice laced with a weight I didn’t understand. His eyes flicked to mine, and for a moment, I saw a flash of something raw in them—something that made my throat tighten.

I swallowed, nodding quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know—”

“It’s fine,” Damian interrupted, his tone softening as he stepped closer. “Come on. Let’s get you something to eat.”

He gently guided me away from the door, his hand resting briefly on the small of my back as we walked down the hallway. I couldn’t help but glance back at the door one last time before it disappeared from sight, wondering what it was about that room that seemed to hold so much of Damian’s past.

When we reached the kitchen, the smell of fresh food greeted us. A maid had set the table with plates of warm bread, eggs, and fruit, the simple but comforting aromas filling the air. My stomach growled again, louder this time, and Damian gave me a small, amused smile.

“Sit,” he said, motioning to one of the chairs. “You need to eat.”

I sat down, suddenly aware of just how exhausted I was. The events of the past day had taken more out of me than I realized, and now that I was here, in this strange in-between moment, the weight of it all began to settle in.

As I picked at the food, the door to the kitchen opened, and Ethan, Marcus, and Vivienne filed in. Each of them looked more relaxed than the night before, but there was still an edge to their movements—a lingering tension from the rogue attack that none of us had fully shaken off.

“Morning,” Ethan greeted, sliding into a chair across from me. He gave me a quick, assessing glance, as though checking to see if I was okay after everything that had happened.

“Glad to see you up,” Marcus added with a smile as he sat next to Ethan. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” I admitted, forcing a small smile. “But... better.”

Vivienne remained quiet as she took her seat beside Damian, her sharp eyes scanning the room. I couldn’t quite place her, and there was something about the way she carried herself that made me both wary and intrigued.

For a while, the conversation flowed easily—small talk about the rogue attack, updates on the pack’s security. I listened quietly, trying to absorb everything, but my mind kept drifting to the bond between Damian and me. The tension, the pull, the undeniable connection that was still so new, so fragile.

And then, before I could stop myself, I blurted it out.

“Do you all know that I’m Damian’s second mate?”

The room fell into an awkward silence. Ethan and Marcus exchanged a quick glance, their expressions unreadable. Vivienne’s eyes flickered with a brief spark of interest, but it was Damian’s reaction that caught me off guard. His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he shifted in his seat.

Ethan cleared his throat first, breaking the silence. “We... suspected. It’s hard not to notice the bond.”

Marcus nodded in agreement. “Yeah. You have the energy of a Luna. It’s... unmistakable.”

I bit my lip, suddenly feeling exposed. “And? How do you all feel about that?”

Vivienne leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “It’s not about how we feel, Isla. The bond is what it is. Whether you or Damian want it, fate doesn’t care about feelings.”

Her words were blunt, but there was no malice in them. Just the cold truth. Fate had decided this for me and Damian long before we had a say.

Ethan leaned forward, his expression softer. “We don’t question the bond, Isla. But this pack... it’s been through a lot. Lyra’s death hit all of us hard, and it’s going to take time for some of us to accept change. But if you’re here—if you’re truly meant to be our Luna—then you’ll find your place.”

My chest tightened at the mention of Lyra, the first mate Damian had lost. The woman whose shadow still lingered in this house, in this pack, in Damian’s heart. It wasn’t just about me stepping into the role of Luna. It was about stepping into a role that had once belonged to someone else, someone the pack had loved and lost.

I glanced at Damian, but his expression was unreadable, his gaze fixed on the table as he picked at his food.

“I don’t want to replace her,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what’s going to happen between Damian and me, but I’m not here to take her place.”

Another silence stretched between us, but this time it wasn’t as tense. There was understanding, a shared pain, and a quiet acceptance that this was the reality we had to face.

Vivienne finally broke the tension with a smirk. “Well, whatever happens, I’d suggest you learn to control your powers first. Last night was... impressive, but it could have gone very differently.”

I managed a small smile, grateful for the shift in conversation. There was a long road ahead, and while I wasn’t sure what my place here would be, I knew one thing for certain: I wasn’t going to run from it.

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