His Mate’s Secret

Chapter 2

When I think back to my childhood, I don’t remember power or titles first.

I remember laughter.

I was eight years old, and the Silver Crescent Pack House had always felt like home in the warmest way possible. Not because it was the largest pack house in the region, or because my family carried titles that made others lower their heads in respect. It felt like home because of the people inside it. Because every hallway held memories, every room carried voices I loved, and every corner of that house felt safe.

Back then, I didn’t understand how rare that kind of safety really was.

My father, Erick Black, was the Alpha of Silver Crescent. To the rest of the world, he was powerful, respected, and more than a little feared. Warriors listened when he spoke. Other Alphas watched their words around him. He carried authority like it had been carved into his bones.

But to me, he was just Dad.

He was the man who let me sit on his boots while he read reports in his office, the man who always smelled like cedarwood and leather, the man who could silence a room with one look but still crouch down and wipe tears from my face when I scraped my knee. He was strong in a way that made me feel invincible just standing beside him.

My mother, Molly Black, was our Luna. She had a softness to her that made people underestimate her until they realized she could command a room almost as easily as my father could. Where he was strength and control, she was warmth and peace. She had this way of making everything feel calmer, even when the pack was in chaos around us. Her smile could settle my worst fears before I ever said them out loud.

Then there was Aiden, my older brother.

Aiden acted like he’d already stepped into the Alpha role years before anyone asked him to. He was only fifteen, but he carried himself like one of the warriors—always standing too straight, always watching everything, always trying to prove he was older than he really was. He pretended to be annoyed by me and Isaac most of the time, but everyone knew the truth. If either of us so much as tripped over our own feet, Aiden was already there, glaring at whatever had dared to make us stumble.

And Isaac…

Isaac was my twin in every way that mattered.

We looked enough alike that pack members still mixed us up from behind, but it was more than that. He was the other half of me—the person who knew what I was thinking before I said it, the one who laughed when I laughed and glared when I glared. If I got into trouble, he was usually right beside me, pretending it had been his idea all along. If I was scared, he was the first one to notice, even before our mother.

And me?

I was Ivy Black.

At 12 years old, I thought my whole world would always stay exactly the same.

That night started like any other.

Dinner at the pack house was always loud, especially when everyone in my family was actually in the same room long enough to sit down together. The dining room glowed with warm light from the iron chandeliers above us, and the long wooden table was crowded with platters of roasted meat, fresh bread, vegetables, and enough food to feed twice the number of people sitting there. My mother always cooked too much when she was in a good mood, and judging by the amount of food covering the table, she must have been thrilled about something.

The smell alone was enough to make my stomach growl.

I sat between Isaac and my mother, swinging my legs beneath my chair while I tore apart a piece of bread. Across from me, Aiden was trying to sit through dinner like it was some kind of royal meeting instead of a family meal.

My mother noticed before anyone else did.

“I swear, Aiden,” she said, setting down her cup with a sigh, “if you keep slouching like that, you’re going to look more like a rogue than the future Alpha of this pack.”

Aiden immediately straightened a little, frowning. “I’m not slouching. I’m sitting comfortably.”

“That is not comfortable,” she replied. “That is lazy.”

My father, seated at the head of the table, glanced up from cutting his food. “Your mother’s right.”

Aiden looked personally offended. “Of course she is.”

A smile tugged at my father’s mouth, though he tried to hide it. “If you’re going to represent this family one day, you might as well start by sitting like you have a spine.”

Isaac snorted beside me, nearly choking on his drink.

Aiden shot him a glare. “You laugh now, but when I’m Alpha, I’m making sure you’re the first one cleaning the training field.”

“You’d have to catch me first,” Isaac muttered.

I covered my mouth to hide my laugh, but Isaac was already leaning on the table toward my plate with a look I knew far too well.

Before I could stop him, he snatched a piece of meat straight off my plate and dropped it onto his own.

My jaw fell open. “Hey!”

He shrugged like he had no idea why I was offended. “You weren’t going to eat it.”

“Yes, I was!”

“No, you weren’t.”

“I literally was about to!”

Isaac grinned, looking entirely too proud of himself. “Then you should’ve been faster.”

I kicked him under the table.

He yelped loud enough to make Aiden laugh.

“Ivy,” my mother warned, though the corners of her lips were twitching.

“He stole my food!”

“He was saving you from yourself,” Isaac said. “You eat too slow.”

I lunged for the piece on his plate, and he jerked it out of reach just in time. My father cleared his throat in that deep, warning way that made both of us freeze instantly.

Silence fell over the table.

Isaac and I looked at each other.

Then we both burst into quiet laughter anyway.

Aiden groaned. “Can they ever act normal?”

“No,” my mother said, smiling softly as she reached over to smooth my hair back from my face. “And I hope they never do.”

For a moment, everything felt so painfully ordinary that I didn’t think to treasure it.

The warmth of the room.
The crackle of the fireplace.
The way my father’s shoulders relaxed when he was with us.
The way Aiden tried not to smile when Isaac and I were being ridiculous.
The way my mother looked at all of us like we were her entire world.

It was safe.

It was home.

And I was too young to understand how quickly home could be taken from you.

The first sign that something was wrong came when my father went still.

It was subtle—so small I might not have noticed it if I hadn’t been watching him. One second he was reaching for his glass, and the next, every muscle in his body tightened. His eyes shifted toward the doors at the far end of the dining room, his expression sharpening into something unreadable.

Aiden noticed too. He straightened in his chair immediately, all traces of teasing gone.

My mother’s hand stilled against the table.

Even Isaac looked up.

At first, I didn’t hear anything except the soft crackle of the fire and the faint clink of silverware. Then, from somewhere outside, came the sound of shouting.

Distant.

Muffled.

Wrong.

My father rose from his chair so suddenly it scraped harshly across the floor. The sound made me jump.

“Stay here,” he ordered, his voice calm but firm.

That was when the doors slammed open.

The noise cracked through the dining hall like thunder, making me flinch so hard my chair nearly tipped backward. A warrior stumbled inside, his boots skidding against the polished floor. Blood streaked down one of his arms and soaked into the shoulder of his shirt. His chest heaved with each desperate breath, and his face had gone ghost-white beneath the smear of dirt and sweat.

I’d seen warriors return from training bruised and laughing, but never like this.

Never terrified.

“Alpha!” he shouted, voice raw and panicked. “We’re under attack!”

The room changed in an instant.

The warmth vanished. The safety vanished. Every bit of laughter that had filled the space only moments ago was ripped away so fast it was like it had never been there at all.

My father moved first.

“What happened?” he barked, already striding toward the warrior.

“Rogues,” the man choked out. “There are too many of them—they came from the eastern border and pushed straight through the patrol line. They’re already inside pack lands.”

My mother stood so quickly her chair fell backward onto the floor with a sharp crack.

Aiden was on his feet immediately after her, all traces of boyhood gone from his face. Isaac grabbed my hand under the table so tightly it almost hurt.

I looked between all of them, my heartbeat suddenly too loud in my ears.

Rogues.

I’d heard stories about rogues my whole life—wolves without a pack, without loyalty, without mercy. Monsters in the dark, the kind mothers warned their children about. But stories had always felt like stories.

Until that moment.

My father’s face hardened into something I barely recognized. “Aiden, with me.”

Aiden didn’t hesitate. “Yes, Alpha.”

My mother turned to us so fast her hair slipped loose from her shoulder. “Isaac, Ivy—go to the safe room. Right now.”

I stared at her. “Mom—”

“Now.” Her voice was sharp enough to make my throat close.

Isaac was already pulling me from my chair, but I dug my heels in for half a second, panic rising so fast it made me dizzy. “What’s happening?”

My mother crossed the room in three quick steps and dropped to her knees in front of me, taking my face in both of her hands. Her palms were warm, but I could feel the tremble in them.

“Listen to me,” she said, her voice quieter now, softer—but her eyes were filled with something that made fear bloom cold in my stomach. “You stay with your brother. Do exactly what he says. Do you understand me?”

I nodded because it was all I could do.

She kissed my forehead, quick and fierce, then rose again. By the time she stepped back, the Luna was gone and something stronger stood in her place—something unshakable.

My father was already issuing orders to the warrior, his voice ringing through the room with Alpha command. More shouting echoed from somewhere outside the dining hall. Running footsteps pounded through the corridors. The entire pack house had erupted into chaos.

Isaac tugged on my hand again, harder this time.

“Ivy,” he said, his voice shaking despite how hard he tried to sound brave. “Come on.”

I looked back once more at my parents—at my father standing tall at the center of the storm, at my mother moving to his side, at Aiden grabbing the blade mounted near the dining room entrance.

That was the last moment my family was ever whole.

And I didn’t even know it yet.