In Another skin: The Alpha's Forgotten Wife

Chapter 4 – The Last Goodbye

**FLASHBACK DREAM**

The door shut right behind her, soft and final as she entered the room. Lena stood still by the entrance of the mansion that once felt like a forever abide.

Now it felt like a tomb.

The air was too quiet, the type that consumes both sound and emotions. It offers no peace or solitude. Nothing changed, Damon's shoes by the shoe rack, her red scarf, which still hangs on the hallway hook, a half-empty coffee mug sitting on the kitchen ceramic counter.

It could have been any morning but it wasn’t.

Lena walked into their room, on the bed was the cardboard box she left that night, staring back at her as if calling her for a challenge. Her hands remain steady but her stomach growls, filled with a mess of boiling rage and broken emotions. She walked towards the bed with precision, taking deliberate steps at a time as if approaching a crime scene.

Because something had died here. Her, both Damon and her.

The future she had once memorized in his voice.

One by one, she folded the pieces of her life. A navy sweater that had always ended up on his side of the bed. Her soft-worn jeans, her golden necklace she hadn't put on in ages after Damon said it made her look “too cold and mortal for his liking.”

She hesitated with it before putting it back into the box.

Then she moved to the dresser. The bottom drawer. His drawer.

Her ring was still there.

Resting in the exact place she’d left it a week ago after he told her, without flinching, that he was marrying someone else. Someone chosen by the Elders. Someone with a bloodline more “aligned” with the Pack’s needs.

She didn’t belong in his future. That’s what he said without saying it.

“This isn’t personal, Lena. This is my duty.”

She remembered laughing, not at the joke, but the reason being that it was coming from a man who sounded serious but ended up throwing away the best thing that could ever happen to him.

He hadn’t fought for her. Not even once.

Lena picked up the ring. It was heavier than she remembered. The inside engraving is still clear despite the years: To my moon, even in shadow.

She set it gently next to the letter. A single page. No smudges. No tears.

I was never your Luna. But you were always my Alpha.

That was the last thing he’d ever get from her. No begging and no apologies.

Lena pushed back the drawer with a gentle soft snap, breathing out heavily the air she had been holding for days now.

She scanned the room one more time as if to say “I don't want to go.” The space didn’t resist her leaving. It didn’t plead. It just stood there, still and empty, like it had already begun forgetting her.

She reached for the door.

“Where are you going?” His voice had stopped her then.

Lena sharply turned, deliberate. The way her body responded to the voice was like it already knew she had made a mistake.

Damon was standing by the fireplace, his brown shirt was half-buttoned. His eyes looked tired.

Lena swallowed. “I thought you were in Geneva.”

“Came back early.”

She didn’t answer. Neither did he.

He looked at the box in her hands. “You’re really doing this?”

“You already did.”

Something unfamiliar masks his face, maybe guilt or regrets? But for a split second, it disappeared as fast as it showed on his face.

“Are you really leaving tonight? You do not have to do this,” he still said to her without looking at her face.

She blinked inevitably, “Would that change anything?”

He didn’t respond.

That silence hurt more than anything he could’ve said. And then he walked up to her. The smell of wine hit her nose, making her stomach twist as she tried to stay still.

“Say it to my face. Are you really leaving?” Says Damon, his eyes piercing into hers like he owns her soul.

Lena lowered her head, then she raised it, but before she could release the breath she didn't realize she had been holding, Damon pulled her forcefully to his body, grabbed her by the neck with his hand and fiercely kissed her like he had never before.

Lena's body was already betraying her, she couldn't resist him, she couldn't pull away. Her tense body began to relax as she let him take over her body. His hand caressed her hair, gradually to her back and to her well-shaped hips.

She raised her leg and clip his thigh, hitting her core to his already hard c**k, signalling she needs him.

Damon pulls from the kiss, stares into her eyes and growls, “mine.” He grabbed her bottom, raised her to his chest and walked towards the bedroom.

As soon as they were in the bedroom, Lena couldn't wait to pull off Damon's shirt while he dropped her down. She hurriedly unhooked the belt, unzipped his jeans and pulled it down. The sight of his huge c**k made her gasp, swallowing the lump in her throat. It was like her first time seeing it. She has been with Damon for a long time but today felt different; it was like meeting a stranger for a one-night stand.

Damon grabbed her head and pressed her down so that she was kneeling before him. Lena grabbed his huge c**k and swallowed it. Sucking it in and out, Damon used his head over her head to control the intensity. The sensation melted Damon as he began to moan lightly.

Damon then picked her up, pulled down her mini green gown she was wearing, picked her up and laid her on the big master mattress. Lena bounced on the bed softly as he dropped her on it. He slowly and deliberately crawl over her body, his finger tracing her thigh as it sent an enormous sensation through her core, it was already wet and ready for his c**k. He pulled her red pant and flung it to the floor, path her legs and raised them to his shoulders. He grabbed his c**k and gradually robbed it on her c**t. Lena let out a soft moan as she feels the huge c**k tickling her core, raising her impatient for him to pound her.

And then, he inserted his c**k, thrusting her wet core like a pro, slow and deliberate until she began to demand for more. Damon kept thrusting her wet core harder and faster until Lena could no longer control herself as she felt the warm and unbearable sensation take over her body. She began to squirt as she held his body tightly as if to say, ‘I will never let you go.’ Damon moaned hard until he came also. He fell off her and lay beside her on the bed, panting heavily.

They both lay there naked until sleep took them.

At around 11:45 pm, Lena woke up, got dressed and looked at Damon one last time before walking towards the door. She turned the knob and whispered, “Goodbye, Damon.” She left.

---

**PRESENT**

The scream could not escape her throat as she jolted awake from the dream. She plodded to open her eyes.

Lena jumped up from the bed, panting heavily, her legs wrapped in the wet bedsheets, and her heart contended heavily in her chest as if she had dashed down from a bloodsucker. Her dream felt real this time around. She could still hear the drawer closing, still feel the chill in her chest where her ring finger used to ache.

But only that, this wasn’t her bed. This wasn’t her body. It was Rayna’s.

The apartment was sleek and angular. Cool-toned furniture. No mess, no clutter. No photos on the walls. Nothing that said home.

Lena stumbled out of bed, her feet cold on the marble floor. Her hands quivered slightly as she reached for the edge of the restroom sink. She giggled at the woman in the glass, Rayna’s face blended and flushed, eyes wide with disorientation.

“You’re not her,” she muttered, gripping the counter harder. “You’re Lena. Remember that.”

But the memory was cruel. It didn’t fade with time, it rotted, rotted beneath the face until it exploded back into your chest when you least anticipated it.

She splashed water on her face, hoping the bite would ease her.

Also, the tablet on the nightstand blinked red.

INCOMING PAGE – ALPHA CONSULT: BLACKWOOD, DAMON. ROOM TWELVE. STATUS: ARRIVED.

She froze.

The water kept running, but everything else in the world stopped.

Lena moved toward the device like it might crump. Her eyes scrutinized the screen doubly, also a third time, her heart stammering with unbelief.

Damon Blackwood is formerly at the sanitarium in this hospital as her patient?

Her knees nearly gave out, but she caught the edge of the bed, gripping it like a lifeline.

This couldn’t be real. After everything, after waking up in a stranger’s body, after trying to forget, trying to adapt, trying to survive, he was here?

The past didn’t just knock. It kicked the damn door down.

She remembered the words she’d written: I was never your Luna. But she’d never stopped being his.

Somewhere deep in Rayna’s chest, Lena’s heart began to break again. Her fingers hovered above the “Accept” prompt on the tablet.

If she pressed it, she’d have to walk into that room, look him in the eye and pretend she was someone else.

And maybe, just maybe, watch him fail to recognize her.

That would be the real death, wouldn’t it?

Not that he'd moved on but the man who formerly learned the sound of her twinkle could look her in the face and feel nothing. The air grew tight around her, suffocating in silence. Her thumb pressed down.

ACCEPTED. CONSULT IN PROGRESS. ROOM TWELVE.

Lena looked up at her reflection once more. Her lips quivered, but her voice came out steady.

“Okay then. Let’s finish what we never started.”

---

Back at the hospital.

The elevator doors opened with a soft ding. Nurses passed. Interns whispered. Everyone seemed to move like normal.

But inside, Lena was a storm waiting for a name. She reached Room Twelve. Her hand floated over the handle.

Through the window, she saw him. Damon, aged, colder and still devastatingly familiar.

Her breath caught as she gripped the brochure in her hand, the one marked with bold letters ALPHA NEUROLOGICAL DECAY – D. BLACKWOOD.

He looked up and their eyes met but he didn’t blink. He didn’t recognize her either.

Lena’s world tilted as she stepped into the room.