The Alpha's Contract Luna

Chapter 4: Stole the Identity

Chapter 4: Stole the Identity

(Elara's POV)

The air smelled of the past. Faint, lingering traces of cedarwood and rain brought me back to the walls of the orphanage where I'd spent so many sleepless nights.

Eleanor’s message had filled me with unease. "Blood identification ceremony," she had said. A phrase that stirred an insistent whisper of a longing I’d buried years ago.

But I couldn’t get my hopes up. Not after countless fruitless attempts to find my family. The possibility had once consumed me, but age and disappointment had hardened that hope into ashes.

Still, now here I was, the orphanage's familiar stone walls towering above me, bracing myself for whatever this visit would bring.

Eleanor met me by the front gates, her warm, motherly smile softening the harsh lines of her aging face.

"Elara, welcome back, child," she said, pulling me into a brief embrace. Her grip was gentle yet firm, a comfort I rarely let myself indulge in.

"Thank you for the summon, Miss Eleanor," I replied softly, stepping back.

Her eyes roved over me, as if cataloging every change since I’d left.

"You’ve grown even more beautiful, my dear," she said warmly. "Come, I have something important to discuss with you."

I followed her into the familiar halls. The chatter of children echoed faintly in the distance, reminding me of memories long past. Memories I wasn’t sure I wanted to revisit.

Inside her tidy office, Eleanor gestured for me to take a seat. She settled into her chair across the desk, her maternal demeanor shifting subtly into one of authority.

"I’ve called all the orphans back," she said, folding her hands neatly. "Not just you. There’s a blood identification ceremony being held soon. Someone has come forward, searching for their lost family among our orphans."

A brittle laugh escaped me before I could stop it. The sound was as sharp as shattered glass. "Elara?" Eleanor tilted her head, her expression softening as she studied me.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, shaking my head quickly. "It’s just—what are the odds? Every attempt to find any relative of mine has ended the same way. Dead ends. Surely, after all these years..."

Eleanor leaned forward slightly, her kind eyes unwavering. "I know you’ve been disappointed before, child. But this time feels... different. It could be your parents."

The words struck me with a force I didn’t expect.

"My parents?" I whispered, disbelief tightening my chest.

My hands curled into fists atop my lap. A flicker of hope—I cursed its audacity—began to stir. But I smothered it quickly. Hope was dangerous. Hope shattered you from within.

"It might not be them," I forced out cautiously, my nails biting into my palms. "Chances are slim, right? Why should I expect any different?"

Eleanor's wise gaze didn’t waver. "Because you deserve to hope, even if it’s painful," she said firmly.

"Now, I’ll be collecting blood samples from all of you. Once I have them all, they’ll be sent together for identification."

I hesitated. I didn’t want to let my heart feel that possibility after the years of silent wounds those unanswered questions had left on my soul.

But I couldn’t tell her no. Not when she looked at me as if she still believed miracles could happen.

"...All right," I murmured finally.

Eleanor smiled, her relief evident in the slight breath she exhaled. "Thank you, Elara. I promise no matter the outcome, we’ll uncover the truth together."

I nodded slowly, standing as our conversation ended, but the turmoil under my skin was brewing stronger.

Out in the courtyard, children played together, their laughter rising toward the painted sky.

I found myself wandering among them, their innocence a wistful tonic to my exhausted soul. And that was when I heard her voice.

"Elara!"

I turned, instinctively. Seraphina stood by the garden bench, her golden hair catching the light as she waved at me with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Her face was bright, her smile too wide, her familiar silver eyes uncomfortably focused on me.

"Seraphina," I greeted cautiously, picking my way toward her.

She was practically buzzing with excitement, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

"Isn’t it amazing? The blood ceremony, I mean! What if—what if we find someone? Someone who’s been looking for us all this time?"

Her voice held a glimmer of hope that sent my stomach knotting.

"I’m not optimistic," I admitted bluntly, crossing my arms over my chest. "I’ve tried before. There was never anyone."

Seraphina’s smile faltered, for just a split second, before she quickly plastered it back on. "Oh, Elara! You’re always so practical, aren’t you?" she said, her tone artificially cheery. "But really... don't you feel even a little curious?"

I looked at her through narrowed eyes. Something about the way she held herself seemed excessive, forced, as if she were wrestling with a truth behind that hollow eagerness.

"I guess I’m just... used to disappointment," I replied stiffly.

She stepped closer, her fingers curling around my elbow in a gesture that felt too intimate, too rehearsed. "Don’t be so cynical, Elara," she said. "Things happen for a reason. You’ll see." Her words were meant to reassure, but they left me feeling unsettled instead.

"I hope you’re right," was all I said, pulling my arm back as discreetly as I could manage.

Seraphina’s smile didn’t falter, but there was something in her eyes—something sharp and calculating—that made unease coil in my stomach.

We spent the next few minutes talking about the orphanage and people we both used to know, her words peppered with false nostalgia as she delicately guided the conversation.

She'd occasionally laugh, that light sound floating like mist through the air, but something about her always felt... too polished.

When she finally left, waving a cheery goodbye over her shoulder, I found myself standing alone, trying to piece together the quiet dread lingering in my chest.

Seraphina had always been... peculiar. The kind of person who lived in the shadow of others, impossibly skilled at wearing masks but never truly showing herself.

Something about her was off today, though. Her energy. That flicker of something beneath her too-bright demeanor.

---

(Seraphina’s POV)

The dim lamplight flickered in the orphanage hallway as I leaned against the wall, waiting for Jasper, Eleanor’s assistant.

Jasper emerged from the shadowed corridor, his usual composed expression slightly frazzled. He glanced around cautiously before stopping in front of me.

"Seraphina," he greeted with a polite nod. His voice was calm, but the way his eyes darted toward the nearby windows betrayed his unease.

"Jasper," I replied, feigning innocence. I tilted my head slightly, allowing a worried expression to spread across my face.

"I’ve heard about the blood recognition ceremony. Eleanor mentioned it. I couldn’t help but wonder… who is searching for their child? Is it someone important?"

Jasper hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. "This is confidential information. I shouldn’t—"

"Please, Jasper," I interrupted softly, almost pleading. I placed a hesitant hand on his arm, my fingers light and deliberate.

"I just want to understand why this is happening now. It feels... unprecedented." I paused, letting my voice tremble slightly. "Especially for orphans like us."

His features softened, as they always did when I played the vulnerable card. Jasper was loyal to Eleanor, but his conscience was a weakness I could easily exploit.

With a reluctant sigh, he lowered his voice. "All right. But you must promise not to tell anyone. This isn’t for public knowledge yet."

I nodded eagerly, hiding the thrill that coursed through me at his words. "Of course, Jasper. You can trust me."

He glanced around again before speaking. "The Crescent Moon Pack reached out to us. They're searching for their Alpha’s lost daughter."

My heart skipped a beat. "How would they identify her?"

"There's an ancient moonstone token," he explained quietly. "The child was given one at birth. It's a family heirloom that can prove her bloodline."

He sighed heavily. "The Alpha is growing old, and without his heir, the pack's future is uncertain."

The words hit me like a physical blow. A moonstone token. My mind raced back to that night years ago, to a memory I'd buried deep.

Young Elara, sleeping peacefully in her bed at the orphanage. The moonstone gleaming on her nightstand, catching the moonlight. My trembling hands as I reached for it, driven by bitter jealousy.

Everyone always favored Elara. She got the best food, the warmest clothes, the most attention.

Even the caretakers treated her differently, as if they knew something about her that they didn't share.

That night, watching her sleep, something in me snapped. If she was so special, why should she have everything?

So I took it. The moonstone disappeared into my pocket, and with it, a piece of Elara's identity.

I swallowed, forcing sincerity into my voice. "Thank you, Jasper, for trusting me with this. I’ll keep this to myself, I promise."

I turned away before he could see the darkness in my eyes.

A hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat. Of course. Of course Elara was the Alpha's daughter. She always had to be special.

I walked slowly down the empty corridor, my mind churning with possibilities. The revelation sparked something vicious inside me.

Elara had already given me her identity as the Alpha King's savior. Why not take this identity from her too?

In my room, I pulled out the moonstone from its hiding place. It pulsed with a soft, ethereal glow in my palm. The proof of Elara's heritage – and now, potentially mine.

My fingers closed around it as a plan began to form. The blood sample collection hadn't happened yet. All I needed to do was switch Elara's blood with mine.

"You've had everything handed to you," I whispered into the darkness. "Now it's my turn."