Chapter 3: Shadows of the Truth

The days bled into one another, a monotonous cycle of aching emptiness and forced normalcy. The encounter on the staircase had carved a deeper chasm between us. Ezra’s absence from the manor became more pronounced, his scent fading from the common areas, leaving only the cold, sterile smell of a house too big for one person. The bond’s constant thrum was a torment, a compass needle forever spinning wildly, pointing toward its missing north.

Meanwhile, a different kind of storm was brewing in Ezra’s study. I didn’t need to see him to know. The pack buzzed with whispers. Alpha Ezra was obsessed, they said. He’d spent days locked away with old pack records, birth ledgers, and correspondences from a time he rarely spoke of—the time of his marriage to my mother, Isabella.

My mother. The woman whose face was a beautiful, blurry memory, who had left us both with a trail of broken promises. A cold knot of dread formed in my stomach, separate from the bond’s ache. What was he looking for? What truth about her could possibly be worse than the one we were already living?

My wolf was restless. ‘He searches. It’s about her. About… us?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ I lied, trying to focus on the training grounds. The physical exertion was the only thing that momentarily dulled the bond’s persistent pain. But today, it wasn’t enough. The lack of proper sleep, the constant emotional strain, and the gnawing hunger I couldn’t satisfy—because the only thing that could sate it was him—had taken their toll.

I was practicing a simple defensive maneuver with a young Beta when a wave of dizziness hit me. The world tilted. The dull headache that had become my constant companion spiked into a sharp, stabbing pain behind my eyes. My knees buckled. The practice sword clattered from my numb fingers as I crumpled onto the sun-hardened earth, a cloud of dust puffing around me.

A gasp went through the small group of trainees. Distantly, I heard someone call my name. But all I could feel was a sudden, violent surge through the bond. It wasn’t the usual pull. It was a lance of pure, undiluted panic. His panic.

And then he was there.

A blur of motion, a rush of air, and the scent of ozone and furious Alpha filled my senses. Ezra didn’t just arrive; he materialized, his presence crashing over the training ground like a thunderclap. The other wolves fell back, bowing their heads in instinctive submission.

He dropped to his knees beside me, his face a mask of stark fear that made my already-racing heart stutter. His large, warm hands—the hands that had pushed me away—cupped my face, his thumbs stroking my temples. The contact, however brief, was a balm and a brand. The sharpest edges of the pain receded, soothed by his proximity.

“Lila?” His voice was rough with an emotion I dared not name. His grey eyes scanned my face, searching for injury. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

My wolf preened. ‘He came. He’s worried. Ours.’

For a breathtaking second, I let myself drown in it. In the concern in his eyes, in the gentle touch he’d denied me for days. This was the man who had read me stories when I was scared, who had stood between me and the world’s cruelties. The man I…

But then, I saw his gaze flicker over my shoulder. I saw the awareness of our audience return to his eyes. Dozens of pack members were watching, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and unease. The Alpha was on his knees, cradling his Omega stepdaughter. The scandalous bond they’d all heard whispers of was playing out before them.

The shutters came down. The fear in his eyes was banked, replaced by cool, detached authority. His hands left my face, and the cold rushed back in, sharper than before. The loss was a physical wound.

He stood up abruptly, his posture rigid. “She’s overtrained,” he announced to the onlookers, his voice once again the calm, commanding tone of the Alpha. There was no trace of the terrified man from moments ago. “The summer heat is unforgiving. A common enough folly.”

He gestured to a sturdy Beta female who had been overseeing the training. “Elara. See that Lila is returned to the manor. Ensure she rests and is given something to eat and drink.”

Elara stepped forward, bowing her head. “Yes, Alpha.”

He didn’t look at me again. His back was to me, a broad, unyielding wall. “I have matters to attend to.” The dismissal was absolute.

As Elara helped me to my feet, my body still weak and trembling, I watched him walk away. Every step he took felt like a fresh tear in the fragile connection between us. The public facade was back in place. The caring stepfather, the concerned Alpha. But the truth, the raw, desperate truth I had seen in his eyes for that one unguarded moment, was locked away again, deemed too dangerous to show.

Elara’s arm was supportive, but it was a poor substitute. It wasn’t the touch I craved, the touch that could truly heal the ache.

As we walked back toward the manor, the cold realization settled deep in my bones. He knew. He knew the bond was causing this physical suffering. His frantic arrival proved it. But the truth he was uncovering in his study, and the chains of his position, were a prison stronger than any desire he might feel. He would let me wither away in public view rather than risk acknowledging the forbidden bond that was slowly killing us both.

The shadow of the truth he was chasing loomed larger, and I feared what monster it would reveal when it finally stepped into the light.