Chapter Two: Playing Pretend
1444 Words
Lena stood in the middle of the Luna's chambers, staring at the closed door where Theron had just left. Her heart hammered against her ribs so hard she thought it might c***k them.
She'd just spoken to him. Actually spoken to Alpha Theron Blackwood, and he'd looked directly at her face without walking away.
Even if he thought that face belonged to someone else.
Her legs gave out and she sat heavily on the bed. The silk sheets wrinkled beneath her unfamiliar hands. This was insane. Completely, utterly insane.
She needed to think. There had to be a logical explanation for this. Last night she'd gone to sleep in her cot behind the infirmary, same as always. She'd been herself. Lena Ashwood, the invisible healer nobody noticed.
What happened between then and now?
She tried to remember. She'd finished organizing the medicine stores around midnight. Her fingers had smelled like valerian root and chamomile. She'd been exhausted, bone-tired in the way that came from twelve hours of treating warriors who barely thanked her.
Had she eaten anything unusual? Drunk something?
Nothing. Just water from the same pitcher she always used.
Magic, then. It had to be magic. But who would curse her? And why swap her with Aria of all people?
The room suddenly felt too small despite its size. Lena pushed to her feet and moved to the closet, pulling open the doors fully.
Dresses. Dozens of them, maybe hundreds. Silks and satins in every color, each probably worth more than her entire year's salary. Which was nothing, because healers weren't exactly paid well.
She pulled one out at random. Deep emerald green, cut low in a way that would make her blush. Aria wore things like this? To what, breakfast?
"This is ridiculous," she muttered, shoving it back.
Her voice still sounded wrong. Too smooth, too refined. She was used to her voice cracking when she got nervous, which was always.
The schedule on the desk caught her eye again. She picked it up, scanning the elegant handwriting.
Tuesday: Council meeting, 2pm. Fitting with Madame Rousseau, 4pm. Dinner with visiting Alpha from Silver Moon Pack, 7pm.
Wednesday: Luna's circle, 10am. Territory walk with Theron, 2pm. Pack gathering, 6pm.
It went on like that for the entire week. Every hour accounted for, every moment scheduled. Being Luna wasn't just standing around looking pretty. It was a full-time job.
A job Lena had no idea how to do.
"Okay," she said to the empty room. "Okay. Think. You've been watching pack dynamics for five years. You know how things work."
From the shadows, sure. From her forgotten corner where no one paid attention to the quiet healer.
She'd never had to actually participate.
A knock at the door made her jump.
"Luna Aria? May I enter?"
Lena's mind raced. What would Aria say? How did Lunas respond to servants?
"Yes," she called out, hoping that was right.
The door opened and a woman entered, probably in her forties, carrying a tray of food. She wore the simple dress of pack staff and moved with the efficiency of someone who'd done this a thousand times.
"Good morning, Luna. I've brought your breakfast." She set the tray on a small table near the window. "Will you be needing assistance dressing today?"
Assistance. Of course Aria had someone help her dress. Because apparently Aria couldn't be bothered to put on her own clothes.
Lena's pride bristled at the idea. She'd been dressing herself since she was five years old.
But Aria wouldn't refuse, would she?
"Yes, thank you," Lena said, the words tasting strange.
The woman smiled, professional and distant. "The Alpha mentioned you seemed unwell this morning. Should I send for the healer?"
The healer. Meaning Lena. Meaning whoever was in Lena's body right now.
"No," Lena said quickly. "I'm fine. Just tired."
"Of course, Luna. Let me know if you change your mind." She moved to the closet and began pulling out garments. "The council meeting is this afternoon. I thought perhaps the blue dress? It photographs well."
Photographs. Right. Because everything Aria did was public, documented, watched.
Lena's stomach twisted. How was she supposed to maintain this charade in front of the entire pack?
The servant laid out the dress along with things Lena didn't have names for. Undergarments that looked more complicated than her entire wardrobe back home.
"I can manage from here," Lena said, desperate to be alone again.
The woman looked surprised but nodded. "As you wish, Luna. I'll return in an hour to check on you."
When the door closed, Lena exhaled and moved to the breakfast tray. Toast, fresh fruit, what looked like imported jam. Her usual breakfast was whatever leftover porridge the kitchen didn't throw out.
She picked up a strawberry. It was perfect, red and ripe. When was the last time she'd eaten a strawberry?
Never. The answer was never.
She bit into it and the sweetness exploded on her tongue. For just a second, she let herself enjoy it.
Then guilt crashed over her. She was eating Aria's food, wearing Aria's face, standing in Aria's room. And somewhere, Aria was probably losing her mind.
If Lena was in Aria's body, then Aria must be in hers. It was the only explanation that made sense.
Which meant Aria had woken up in a cramped storage room, in a body that half the pack ignored, expected to be the invisible healer.
Lena almost laughed. Almost. Because if their situations had truly switched, Aria was in for the shock of her privileged life.
But the laugh died in her throat. Because if Aria panicked, if she told people what happened, then Lena was finished. They'd think she'd done this on purpose. Some kind of trick to steal the Luna's position.
They'd execute her for it.
She needed to find Aria. Talk to her. Figure out what the hell had happened and how to reverse it.
Lena moved back to the closet and grabbed the simplest dress she could find. It was still nicer than anything she'd owned, a soft cream color that felt like air against her skin.
Getting it on was harder than it looked. The fastenings were in the back, designed for someone else to help. She twisted and strained, finally managing to get most of it closed.
Close enough.
She was reaching for shoes when a commotion erupted outside. Shouting. Multiple voices, urgent and alarmed.
Lena moved to the window. Below, pack members were running toward the infirmary. Her infirmary.
The servant burst back through the door without knocking, her face pale.
"Luna, there's something wrong at the infirmary. They're saying the healer has gone mad, destroying everything."
The world tilted.
Lena gripped the windowsill. "What?"
"The healer. Lena. She's apparently been throwing things, screaming at people. They found her this morning in a rage." The servant shook her head. "I've never known her to be violent. She's always so quiet."
Because it wasn't Lena down there.
It was Aria.
Aria had woken up in Lena's body, in Lena's life, and she was losing it.
Lena's mind raced. She needed to get down there. Stop whatever was happening before Aria said something that couldn't be taken back.
"I need to go," Lena said, moving toward the door.
"Luna, you can't. It could be dangerous. Let the warriors handle it."
But Lena was already out the door, her too-long legs carrying her faster than she'd ever moved. The hallways blurred past. Pack members pressed against walls as she ran by, their faces shocked.
Lunas didn't run. Lunas glided gracefully, always composed.
Lena didn't care.
She burst out of the pack house and across the grounds. The infirmary came into view, and her heart sank.
The door hung open. Inside, she could see overturned shelves, broken glass, scattered herbs. Five years of careful organization destroyed.
And in the center of it all, held by two warriors, was her body.
Aria, in Lena's small frame, thrashed and screamed like a wild animal.
"I'm not her!" Aria shrieked, her voice hoarse. "I'm not the healer! I'm Aria Silvermoon! I'm your Luna!"
The warriors exchanged glances. One of them, Marcus, spoke gently. "Lena, calm down. We're going to help you."
"I'm not Lena!" Aria's eyes were wild, desperate. Then they locked on Lena standing in the doorway.
On her own face, staring back at her.
Aria's expression shifted from panic to pure hatred.
"You," she hissed. "You did this. You switched us. Give me back my body!"
Every eye in the infirmary turned to Lena.
And she realized with cold, creeping horror that whatever happened next would determine both their fates.
- Writer
