CHAPTER 2 — THE ALPHA WHO KNOWS TOO MUCH

Isla pov

"Tell me your real name."

Dylan's voice cuts through the silence before the guards even finish closing the door….low and commanding.

I keep my eyes on the floor like a good broken omega should.

"Isla," I whisper. Let my voice shake just enough, not too much or it looks fake, "my name is Isla."

"Liar," he says softly, almost gently, which somehow makes it worse.

I'm standing in what must be his private study…… dark wood and leather and books that look older than the fortress itself.

Dylan circles me slowly, deliberate, a predator assessing prey.

I can feel his eyes tracking every tremor I fake, every breath I force to come too fast.

"Look at me," he commands.

I lift my eyes slowly, carefully, let them fill with the fear every omega is supposed to feel in front of an Alpha like him.

But when our gazes meet, something jolts through me….. sharp and unexpected.

My wolf stirs for the first time in years, confused, agitated, wrong.

"Better," Dylan stops in front of me, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact.

"Now tell me again, what's your name?”

"Isla," I repeat, add a small sob to the end, let my hands shake where they're still bound in chains.

He reaches out and catches my wrist….his grip firm but not painful….then turns my arm over to expose the inside where an old brand mark sits silvered with scar tissue, a pack symbol I've carried since I was five years old.

"This mark," Dylan traces it with his thumb, the touch sends heat spreading up my arm in a way that makes my stomach clench.

"belongs to the Silvermoon pack."

I don't react, can't react, stay frozen and afraid and small.

"The Silvermoon pack was slaughtered fifteen years ago," he continues, his voice drops lower, intimate, dangerous, "every man, woman, and child burned alive in their own homes, no survivors."

My heart cracks….actually cracks…..as something hot and painful spreading through my chest, anger, fear, grief I thought I'd buried so deep it couldn't surface, he's not supposed to know this, no one is supposed to know this.

"So either you're a ghost," Dylan leans closer, his breath touches my cheek, "or someone very carefully crafted you into whatever you are now."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I whisper, pouring everything I have into sounding terrified and confused, "I was told I was found alone, I don't remember"

"Stop acting," he interrupts, his hand comes up to grip my chin, forces me to hold his gaze, "you're better trained than any omega I've ever seen, your stance is wrong, your breathing is controlled, you've assessed every exit in this room twice since you walked in."

Fuck.

"I'm scared," I try, let tears gather in my eyes, "you're an Alpha, I'm just"

"You're not just anything," Dylan releases my chin but doesn't step back.

"I can smell the absence of fear on you, underneath the act you're performing there's nothing, no terror, no submission, nothing."

My wolf whines, actually whines, and I don't understand why, don't understand what's happening inside me because Dylan's voice shouldn't affect me like this, shouldn't make me want to lean closer instead of pulling away.

"Who sent you? " he asks… it's not a question, it's a command.

"No one sent me," I say, stick to the story, "I was captured at the border, I'm just"

"I'm going to make you an offer," Dylan cuts me off.

steps back finally, gives me room to breathe but somehow that's worse, "and I suggest you consider it carefully."

I wait, stay silent, let him talk.

"Continue spying," he says.

The words land like stones in still water, "I won't stop you, I won't expose you, I won't even interfere with whatever your handler expects you to report."

"I don't" I start.

"But," he raises a hand, silences me with the gesture alone, "you will show me your true face, no more acting, no more fear performances, no more lies about who and what you are."

"And if I refuse," I ask, drop the omega act for just a second, let my real voice come through, cold and flat and empty.

Dylan smiles and it's not a kind expression, "then I decide if you live."

The threat hangs in the air between us, heavy and real, I should be afraid, should be calculating escape routes and contingency plans, but instead I'm stuck on the fact that he's offering me a choice, twisted as it is, when Kael never offers choices, only orders.

"Why," I ask.

"Because I want to know what kind of weapon someone would send into my territory," Dylan moves toward the window, his back to me now, "and because I'm curious what you'll do when you realize you're not hunting me, I'm hunting you."

A chill runs down my spine, cold and sharp, this is wrong, everything about this is wrong, he's not supposed to know, not supposed to see through the cover Kael spent months building.

"So what's it going to be," Dylan asks without turning around, "do we continue this tedious dance of you pretending to be helpless and me pretending to believe it, or do we skip to the interesting part.”

I open my mouth to answer, still don't know what I'm going to say, but movement catches my eye, Dylan shifts his weight from one foot to the other and torchlight spills across the floor behind him, illuminating everything except where his shadow should be.

There's nothing there.

No shadow on the stone floor, no dark outline of his body, nothing, like he's not real, like he's made of smoke and illusion instead of flesh and bone.

My blood goes cold.

"I'll play your game," I hear myself say, voice steady despite the fear climbing up my throat, real fear this time, not performance, "but I have conditions."

Dylan turns back to face me and his eyes gleam in the firelight, something predatory and ancient, "I'm listening."

"I want access to the territory," I say, "I want freedom to move, to observe"

"To report back to whoever owns you," Dylan finishes, "agreed."

He crosses the room in three strides, stops inches from me, reaches out and unlocks the chains at my wrists, they fall to the floor with a heavy clang.

"Welcome to Bloodfang Territory, Isla," he says my name like he knows it's fake, "let's see how long you survive.”

The door opens behind me but I can't move, can't stop staring at the floor where Dylan's shadow should be but isn't.

What the fuck did Kael send me into?