CHAPTER 4 : THE PAST THAT BLEEDS

Isla pov

"Why were you in the forbidden archives?" Dr. Cassia asks quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, "only ghosts go looking for graves."

I spin around, my hand instinctively reaching for a weapon I don't have, the woman standing in the doorway is small and pale with silver hair pulled back severe.

white healer's robes marking her as pack physician, her eyes are sharp though, too sharp, missing nothing.

"I got lost," I say, force my voice to shake, "I was trying to find the kitchens."

"The kitchens are three floors down," Cassia steps into the room, closes the door behind her with a soft click, "and you'd need to pass through four locked doors to reach this wing, locked doors that somehow opened for you."

Fuck.

The forbidden archives are rows of shelves holding documents that predate the territory wars, medical records, bloodline registries, files marked with seals that promise death to anyone who breaks them.

I've been here for twenty minutes searching for anything about the Silvermoon pack, about what happened fifteen years ago.

And I found it, found more than I wanted to find, files about the Corvane Research Facility stamped with my parents' names, Dr. Elara Corvane and Dr. Marcus Corvane, PROJECT LUNA written in red ink beside their signatures.

The papers are still clutched in my hand, crumpled from my grip, evidence I can't explain away.

"Give those to me," Cassia holds out her hand, calm, patient.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I try, but my voice comes out wrong, too tight, too close to breaking.

"Child," Cassia says the word gently, moves closer, "I was there the night Silvermoon burned, I pulled three children from the flames before the roof collapsed, you weren't one of them."

The room tilts, my knees go weak, I grab the shelf beside me for support.

"you're lying."

"I wish I was," she reaches out and takes the papers from my trembling fingers.

"Your parents worked for the Council, did you know that?

They ran experiments on wolves, tried to create soldiers who couldn't disobey, who felt no pain, no fear, no hesitation."

"No," the word rips out of me, raw and desperate, "my parents were researchers, they were innocent."

"They were executed," Cassia says it like she's delivering a diagnosis, clinical and final, "by order of the Council itself, and Silvermoon burned because they harbored traitors."

The façade I've maintained for three years cracks, actually cracks, I feel it breaking apart inside me, grief and rage and terror flooding through the gaps.

"You're wrong."

"Look at the dates," Cassia holds up the papers, pointing to a timestamp in the corner.

"PROJECT LUNA was terminated two weeks before the massacre, your parents refused to destroy their research, they were going to sell it."

"Stop," I whisper.

"You were their experiment," she says quietly, "the prototype, an omega with an alpha's strength, a wolf that could be commanded by anyone who knew the right frequencies, the right words."

"That's not true," but even as I say it I'm remembering Dylan's voice, the way my body locked up when he commanded me, the way my wolf submitted without question.

"The brand on your wrist isn't a pack mark," Cassia traces something in the air, mimicking the pattern, "it's a control seal, inactive now but still embedded in your skin, in your bones, in your wolf.

The world narrows to a pinpoint, Kael's voice echoes in my memory, you're perfect, you belong to me, everything he did suddenly made horrible sense.

"Why are you telling me this," I ask.

"Because you deserve to know what you are before Dylan figures it out and kills you for it," Cassia says.

Footsteps echo in the corridor outside, heavy boots on stone, Cassia's eyes go wide, she presses the papers back into my hands, "hide these, burn them, don't let anyone find them on you.

"Wait," I grab her wrist, "my parents, were they really"

"Your parents weren't murdered," Cassia says, her voice drops so low I have to lean in to hear, "they were executed, and if the Council discovers you survived PROJECT LUNA, they'll finish what they started."

The footsteps get closer, Cassia pulls away from my grip and moves toward the back of the room, there's a door there I didn't notice before, hidden behind a tapestry, she slips through it and disappears like smoke.

I shove the papers inside my shirt, press them flat against my ribs, try to control my breathing as the main door opens and two guards step inside.

"What are you doing here?" one of them demands.

"I got lost," I say, letting my voice shake for real this time.

"I'm sorry, please don't tell the Alpha."

They exchange glances, "go back to your room, now.

I hurry past them, down the hallway, around two corners until I'm alone in a shadowed alcove, then something vibrates against my hip, subtle, barely noticeable.

The hidden communicator Kael planted in my clothes, sewn into the waistband where no one would think to look, I pressed my hand against it and felt it pulse twice, Kael's signal that he's listening.

I don't say anything, can't risk being overheard, but his voice comes through anyway, tinny and distorted, "have you seduced him yet.”

My blood runs cold.

"I'm working on it," I whisper.

"Work faster," Kael's tone sharpens, drops into something darker, possessive, "you've been there two days, Isla, I expected results by now."

"He's suspicious," I say, "he knows something's wrong, I need time"

"You need to do what you were trained to do," Kael interrupts, "get close to him, get inside his head, find his weaknesses and report back."

"I understand," I say.

Silence stretches out, long enough that I think he's disconnected, then his voice comes back low and intimate and threatening, "remember, Isla, you belong to me, not to him, not to anyone else, if you forget that I'll make sure you remember, permanently.”

The communicator goes dead.

I stand in the alcove shaking, clutching the knowledge that my parents created me to be a weapon, that everything I am is a lie built on experiments and control seals.

Trust no one, feel nothing, survive everything.

The mantra is ashes in my mouth.