You look just like her

Gamma Jamin ran through the corridors like a man chased by ghosts.

He had been reviewing patrol reports in his office when Esha’s voice sliced into his thoughts through the mindlink—panicked, breathless, unbelievable.

Long-lost daughter.

Alpha’s daughter.

Impossible.

Impossible… wasn’t it?

His boots hit the polished marble floors of the Golden Sky Pack’s clinic moments later. The glass doors swung open, and he stormed inside, his eyes scanning the reception until he spotted the two doctors waiting anxiously near a private room.

“Where is she?” Jamin asked sharply.

Esha stepped forward. “Inside,” she said, pointing to the room. Her expression was pale with shock. “We… we ran her blood. And the resemblance—Jamin, she looks like Lady Seraphina. Not just a little.”

Lady Seraphina.

The late Luna.

Golden Sky Pack’s greatest heartbreak.

Jamin’s heartbeat stuttered. He swallowed, a painful knot forming in his throat.

“Let me see her,” he said quietly.

Leira and Esha exchanged a look and nodded.

Jamin pushed the door open.

Celeste sat upright on the bed, her back pressed against the pillows, fingers clenching the sheets. She looked small against the wide hospital mattress—fragile, lost, and wary. Her dark hair tumbled around her shoulders, and her eyes were still swollen from tears and trauma.

But it wasn’t her shape or posture that made Jamin stop in his tracks.

It was her face.

High cheekbones. Pale silver eyes that shimmered in certain light. A delicate nose.

It was as if someone had taken Seraphina Blackmoon’s portrait from the Alpha Hall and breathed life into it.

Except… she was older.

Around twenty, maybe.

Jamin felt the blood drain from his face. He had seen the Alpha’s daughter only once—briefly—when she was a baby wrapped in silk during the dedication ceremony. But everyone remembered how the child looked because that ceremony became a tragedy.

The baby disappeared before the ritual ended.

Stolen from her cradle.

Years of searching turned up nothing.

And now here she was.

A rogue girl who walked into their borders by accident.

Jamin forced air into his lungs and stepped closer, his voice gentler than he expected.

“Hello,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

Celeste lifted her eyes slowly. The moment she met his gaze, Jamin’s wolf stirred. Something ancient, instinctive, tugged at him—recognition, maybe even loyalty.

“I’m… alive,” Celeste whispered. “Thanks to you.”

Jamin nodded once. “I’m glad my men reached you in time.”

He studied her face, careful not to scare her with intensity. “The doctors tell me you can hear voices through the pack’s mindlink.”

Celeste hesitated, then nodded. “I… heard them speaking. But their mouths weren’t moving.”

“Can you hear me now?” Jamin asked, without opening his mouth.

He focused his voice through the link.

Celeste.

Her eyes widened. She gasped softly, a hand flying to her mouth.

Yes, she replied instinctively—through the link.

Jamin’s heart skipped.

There was no denying it.

She wasn’t guessing or reading lips.

She responded directly, mentally, as if the link were hers too.

Leira let out a shaky exhale, stepping beside Jamin. “You see? It’s real.”

Celeste lowered her hand, her voice trembling. “How is that possible? I’m not part of your pack.”

“That’s what we thought,” Jamin said softly. “Until now.”

Celeste’s brows drew together, confusion twisting her features. “I grew up in Blood Moon Pack. I never belonged anywhere else. I was told… I was told I was abandoned there as a baby.”

Jamin’s eyes softened.

“That may not be true.”

Celeste flinched, looking away.

Her entire life—every painful moment she suffered, every rejection, every insult—had been built on the belief that she was an unwanted orphan taken in by the Blood Moon Pack.

If that wasn’t true…

Who was she?

Jamin stepped closer and spoke with the careful weight of someone revealing history forged in pain.

“More than twenty years ago, our Alpha and Luna had a daughter. She was dedicated under the silver moon, blessed by the elders, and named the heir of Golden Sky Pack.”

Celeste listened, her breath shaky.

“During the dedication ceremony, the pack was attacked,” Jamin continued. “Not by outsiders—by traitors who created a distraction long enough for the baby to be stolen from her crib.”

Celeste’s heart pounded louder with each word.

“The Alpha and Luna searched everywhere,” Jamin said, his voice tight. “For months. For years. No pack in the North was untouched by that search. But they found nothing.”

Celeste felt her veins turn to ice.

“And your Luna?” she whispered.

Leira bowed her head. “Lady Seraphina died two years later. Her heart… never healed.”

Celeste closed her eyes, her throat tightening painfully. She didn’t know that woman, but the grief that spilled from the doctors was raw enough to make her chest ache.

“So,” Celeste said, forcing her voice to stay steady, “you’re saying… that I might be her? The lost daughter?”

Esha stepped forward, eyes shining. “Your features are almost identical. The blood sample showed genetic markers specific to the Alpha bloodline. And you can hear our mindlink.”

Celeste shook her head slowly, disbelief twisting inside her. “No. No, that’s impossible. I grew up in Blood Moon Pack. They wouldn’t have taken in the heir of another pack. I was treated like—like trash.”

Her voice cracked.

Jamin’s jaw tightened. The idea alone made his wolf growl.

“It’s not impossible,” Jamin said firmly. “People do terrible things to hide terrible truths. Someone could have taken you there to erase your identity.”

Celeste looked away, tears pooling in her eyes.

Hope.

It was more terrifying than pain.

Hope made wounds bleed again.

“What if you’re wrong?” she whispered, barely audible. “I can’t… I can’t believe I belong somewhere only for it to disappear again.”

Her hands trembled. She had dreamed of belonging her entire life. To be claimed. Loved. Wanted.

But she had given up on that dream years ago.

Jamin’s voice softened. “We’re not asking you to believe it instantly. But the signs are too strong to ignore.”

Celeste swallowed hard, pressing her palm over her heart.

“But… why didn’t anyone come for me?” she asked, her voice breaking. “If I was truly the Alpha’s daughter… why did I grow up alone?”

Leira gently touched Celeste’s arm. “The traitors covered their tracks. There were lies, forged reports, false leads. By the time the war ended, too much truth was buried.”

Celeste stared at her hands, her mind spinning.

Could she really be someone’s daughter?

Someone important?

Someone missed?

Or was she just a broken banished Luna searching for a miracle that wasn’t hers?

Jamin watched her silently, seeing the war in her eyes.

“No one here will force you to accept anything,” he said gently. “Not until we know the truth for sure.”

Celeste nodded weakly. “So… what happens now?”

Jamin took a slow breath.

“We tell the Alpha,” he said.

Both doctors looked at each other, nervous excitement flickering in their expressions.

Celeste’s stomach dropped. The Alpha.

The father she might have.

A man who had searched for a baby that never came home.

Her hands tightened in her lap.

“What if he doesn’t want me,” she whispered, voice small. “What if he sees me and… knows I’m not her?”

Esha smiled softly. “If he lost his child, even the possibility will matter.”

Jamin closed his eyes briefly and reached out through the mindlink, his mental voice steady and urgent as it shot across the pack.

“Alpha, you need to get to the pack’s clinic right now.”