Chapter 2

The first time I met Ezra Silvan was six years ago. He had been Dorian’s closest friend, his unwavering Gamma. Every time Dorian came home, Ezra was by his side—charming, confident, and utterly untouchable.

I had been a young, naive wolf, drawn to his sharp grin and effortless swagger. When I left the Obsidian Moon Pack to study among the Celestial wolves, it was Ezra who Dorian entrusted to look after me.

At first, Ezra treated me like a shadow. I was just Dorian’s little sister, someone who didn’t belong in his world of power and dominance. He spent his days training, racing across the pack lands, and, as I soon learned, charming every she-wolf who crossed his path.

It wasn’t until my second year in the Celestial Pack that things shifted. One night, Ezra came home late, reeking of whiskey and exhaustion. He collapsed on the couch, and I hesitated before awkwardly draping a blanket over him.

My hand brushed against his cheek, and his eyes snapped open, glowing faintly in the dim light.

“Do you like me, little wolf?” he asked, his voice rough and teasing.

I froze, stammering out a denial. But he chuckled softly, his golden eyes locking onto mine. “Don’t lie to me. I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

Before I could respond, he pulled me into a kiss, one that left me breathless and unsure of what had just happened.

From that moment on, everything changed.

Ezra, the untouchable Gamma, suddenly seemed grounded. He stopped chasing after meaningless flings and started spending more time with me. It was intoxicating, the way he made me feel seen, wanted, important.

For years, I defied my family’s pleas to return home and accept a mate of their choosing. I stayed in the Celestial Pack, clinging to the bond I thought we had. But Ezra never wanted anyone to know.

“Dorian wouldn’t understand,” he’d say whenever I brought it up.

It wasn’t until recently that I finally understood why.

At a pack gathering, Ezra had gotten drunk, and one of his friends let something slip.

“Don’t fall for him,” the wolf had said, his voice full of pity. “Ezra hasn’t been the same since Lyra.”

That was the first time I heard her name. Lyra, his first love. The she-wolf who had shattered his heart before I ever met him.

I pieced the rest together on my own. Lyra was everything Ezra wanted, and every woman after her—myself included—was just a shadow of her.

He became an Alpha because of her. Lyra had once said, “A true wolf finds purpose in power,” and Ezra had taken that to heart.

Every kiss, every promise, every moment we shared was just a ghost of what he had once given to her.

I couldn’t do it anymore.

Six years of love, loyalty, and longing had been wasted. I refused to let myself be a stand-in any longer.

So now, as I sat in the quiet of our shared apartment, listening to the sound of the shower, I made a decision.

I was going home.

And Ezra Silvan? He would remain in the past, where he belonged.