Ch 2: A Well-Known Stranger

Alle's POV

The guards moved. One of them stepped closer, hand already moving to the chains.

Lowell’s eyes never left mine. “Then you’ll wish you had stayed quiet.”

My eyes met his for a few seconds before he walked away from my sight.

In what looked like an hour, the guard pushed me into the cell as they locked it behind me.

I stayed quiet most of the time and I slept off at some point until the sound of a lock turning pulled me from my sleep.

I looked toward the iron door as it slowly opened. A beam of light slipped into the dungeon, forcing me to shield my eyes. I had no idea how long I had been locked in there. The tiny window above my head had never been enough to tell whether it was day or night.

A pair of polished black boots came into view before the rest of him followed. Alpha Lowell stopped outside the cell and looked at me.

"Open it."

One of the guards hurried forward and unlocked the chains around my wrists. I rubbed them absentmindedly while waiting for Lowell to say something else.

Instead, he turned around.

"Come."

I quietly followed him out of the dungeon.

The sunlight hit my face the moment we stepped outside. I blinked several times before my eyes adjusted.

It wasn't a nightmare — I was still inside the novel I had written.

Neither of us spoke as we walked through the castle. Guards followed several steps behind us, their armor clinking softly with each step.

"You were right." I turned to look at Lowell. "They found the money exactly where you said it would be." He paused for a moment before adding, “How did you know he was behind it?”

My eyes wandered to meet his, and then back to the ground. “My instincts told me.” I replied.

“Your instincts told you about the secret portrait that I secretly gave him?”

“There is nothing secretive under the sun, Alpha Lowell.” At last I found the courage to stare at him once again without the fear of someone smacking me from behind.

Lowell smiled, throwing his hand in the air as he took a step forward, then another. "So, name your reward."

His words caught me by surprise.

A reward?

I didn't need gold or land. But right now, there was only one thing I wanted to know.

"My Lord..." I said bowing down like I have been smacked to do.

He stopped walking and I felt his eyes on him.

"What is my name?" I asked.

"...What?"

"My name," I repeated. "Who are my parents? Do I have any brothers or sisters?"

He stared at me for so long that I began to regret asking.

"You don't remember?"

I slowly shook my head.

I felt he was studying me for a moment before asking, "Do you have memory loss?"

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. How was I supposed to explain that I wasn't the owner of this body?

Before I could think of an answer, footsteps echoed through the corridor.

"My Lord."

The voice caught my attention immediately. Something about it sounded familiar, and before I realized it, I had already lifted my head to look.

A young woman walked toward us wearing a neatly pressed blue dress. She stopped a respectful distance away and bowed.

"The King requests your presence." She announced.

"I expected as much." He said.

"He heard what happened with Beta Vance."

Lowell's eyes found me and I looked away almost immediately as if his face repelled mine. Then he turned to the lady. "I'll be there shortly."

"There is one more matter, my Lord."

Lowell gave a slight nod. "Go on."

She unfolded a small scroll with her head still bowed, then she said. "The young woman behind you matches the description of Lady Margaret Wilder."

My heart skipped as I looked at Lowell's back, checking if there was another female figure behind him, but there was none except me.

"She is the younger sister of Lady Mary Wilder. The Wilder family has been searching for her for more than three months."

Lowell turned to look at me. "I knew that face was familiar the first day I saw her. So, there is royalty living in my territory? And how come she's a maid?"

"I believe so, my Lord," the woman replied.

I barely heard either of them, but something about her voice wouldn't leave me alone. It felt familiar, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember where I had heard it before.

"You may take her," Lowell said. "She's no longer my concern."

"As you wish, my Lord."

The woman bowed even deeper. As she straightened and lifted her head, our eyes met.

Immediately, I forgot the art of breathing — No — That couldn't be possible.

The woman standing before me looked exactly like Chloe — my editor, the person who had spent the last three years reading, correcting, and criticizing every chapter I wrote.

For the briefest moment, surprise flashed across her face.

It disappeared so quickly that I almost thought I had imagined it. She lowered her head again and stood there as though we had never met before.

I couldn't take my eyes off her because I knew I hadn't imagined it. That brief look on her face told me she had recognized me.

The moment we were alone in a quieter part of the castle, I grabbed her wrist.

She turned to look at me, confusion settling on her face. "My lady?"

"Chloe."

She frowned slightly. "Chloe? Who is Chloe?” She asked.

“Your name is Chloe. Stop pretending.”

"I don't know anyone by that name. My name is Rybenna."

"You know me. My name is Alle Strautmann and you're Chloe!"

She gently shook her head. "I believe you've mistaken me for someone else."

"You were my editor.”

The moment the words reached my tongue, a burning pain tore through my wrist.

I cried out and grabbed my arm as the black vein appeared beneath my skin again, stretching farther than before. Rybenna's eyes dropped to it, and she froze for only a second before calmly pulling her wrist from my hand.

"You know what this is," I whispered.

"I don't."

"You do and your name is Chloe!” I yelled.

"My name is Rybenna," she said quietly. "I don't know anyone called Chloe."

Hesitantly, she turned to leave. "The omegas will bring you fresh clothes."

She took a few more steps before stopping, and this time, she didn't turn around.

"Be careful what you choose to say, where you are going isn't nice." Then she walked away, and I watched until she disappeared around the corner.

My wrist still burned beneath my sleeve. She had seen the black vein, and the way she reacted told me she knew something about it. For that brief moment, the fear in her eyes looked exactly like mine.

What does she know?