Elara's Second Mate

Chapter 5: Hidden Messages

Elara

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Two days later…..

“Hi…everyone.” I said numbly as I walked into the dirty underground room. I had been moved different times, mostly because inmates refused to stay with their "Luna" even though I had said countless times that I was no longer bearing the title. Now, I am in my third dungeon, and probably my last.

The guard who brought me shoved me onto the floor and slammed the door.

Murmurs and whispers filled the cell immediately. Wolves of different sizes stared at me with scrutinizing gazes, as if trying to decipher who I was. Those who already knew shook their heads in disbelief.

I turned around and walked towards my corner of the dungeon, and plopped down on the hard wood bed.

“Are you Luna Elara? What are you doing here?” A little girl, about 9–10 years old asked, her big blue eyes staring up at me. I nodded softly, as pain shot through my eyes. The girl gasped, then looked as if she was thinking, and walked back towards a group of women I assumed took care of her.

The dungeons were a really filthy mess. But this is my life now, so I might as well take as much advantage of this as possible. So, I ignored the inquisitive stares and whispers and pondered on my life before Damon. Oh, the sweet sweet freedom of my youth.

Damon and I dated for three years, and I was so sure he was my mate. On the night he asked me to be his Luna, I offered a sacrifice to the moon goddess for making my dreams come true. I still remember the words he said to me on our mating night.

"In another life, I'll always choose you."

What a f*****g lie.

I glanced up at my inmates, and realized a faint mist had formed over my eyes. The pain returned to my lungs, and I found it hard to breathe. My stomach churned and burned, making me want to gag. But I hadn't eaten in days. Is this what heartbreak felt like?

An elderly wolf sauntered towards me, supporting himself with his cane. I stared at his features. He looked oddly familiar, and if I wasn't mistaken, a bit like Jaxon. He carefully sat beside me, and tapped his cane.

"You know, I never thought Damon would do it." He said quietly. His voice was strained, as if suffered by years of torture.

"Do what?" I asked. He glanced at me. "Damon had always been tradition driven. I knew you couldn't give birth long before you were mated to him." He chuckled.

Now, I was getting worried.

What did he mean?