The Lost Alpha

Chapter 2

Lucas’ POV

Pain was the first thing I felt when consciousness dragged me back.

It burned through every muscle, every scar, a raw reminder of years spent in the wilderness. My body was no longer the weapon it once was it was a graveyard of battles I should have lost.

I tried to move, but my limbs were heavy, pinned down by exhaustion. The scent of antiseptic, wolfsbane, and herbs surrounded me. A soft bed cradled my frame. Not the earth. Not the cold stone floors of a cage. A bed.

A groan slipped out before I could stop it.

“Easy.”

Her voice.

I forced my eyes open, blinking against the light. And there she was.

Harper Quinn.

Her dark hair was pulled into a messy bun, strands falling loose around her face. She looked older than the last time I’d seen her sharper somehow, her eyes harder, her shoulders squared with responsibility. But she was still Harper. My Harper.

My mate.

The sight of her nearly crushed me more than any blade or claw ever had.

“Lucas.” My name came out like a whisper, full of disbelief and something I couldn’t name. Relief. Anger. Both.

I swallowed, my throat dry as sandpaper. “Harper.”

Her jaw tightened, and for a heartbeat, the air between us was thick with five years of unspoken words.

“You’re alive,” she said finally, her tone clipped, controlled.

I almost laughed, but it came out a rasp. “So it seems.”

She didn’t smile. She didn’t cry. She just stared, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. “Where have you been?”

The question was a knife to the gut. Images flashed in my mind chains, blood, the darkness of exile, the voice of the one who betrayed me. Rage bubbled, but I shoved it down. I couldn’t tell her. Not yet.

“Gone,” I said simply.

Her eyes narrowed. “That’s not an answer.”

I shifted, wincing as pain flared down my ribs. My body felt like it had been torn apart and stitched back together a hundred times. “It’s the only one I have right now.”

Harper’s gaze softened, but only slightly. She looked at me like she wanted to reach out, but something held her back. Walls. Thick ones. Walls I had put there.

“You let us bury an empty coffin,” she said quietly. “You let me mourn you.”

Her words gutted me. The bond between us, once so vibrant, flickered faintly, a ghost of what it had been. I wanted to tell her everything. How I’d fought to return. How I’d dreamed of her face every night in exile. How the only thing that kept me alive was the thought of her.

But before I could, the door creaked open.

“Lucas Blackwell,” Ethan Cole’s voice rang out. My former Beta. My brother in arms.

I turned my head. Ethan looked older, too broad-shouldered, his blond hair shorter, his blue eyes sharp. But there was tension in his stance, a wary edge that hadn’t been there before.

“Ethan,” I said.

For a second, silence. Then he exhaled sharply. “You son of a bitch.” He crossed the room in two strides and gripped my forearm tightly, though his eyes glistened. “I thought you were gone.”

“I was.”

His jaw clenched, but he didn’t push. Not yet.

The room filled with silence again until Harper spoke. “You need rest. We’ll talk when you’re stronger.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but she turned on her heel and walked out, the scent of her fading with every step. I felt the loss like a blade.

Ethan sat beside me, studying me carefully. “What the hell happened to you, Lucas?”

I looked away. “It’s not safe to say yet.”

His brows furrowed. “Not safe? You’re in your own packhouse.”

“No,” I said softly. “I’m not safe anywhere. And neither are you.”

He stared, confused, but before he could press further, a sharp sting hit my nose. My wolf stirred violently. Poison.

My eyes darted to the tray beside the bed, where a steaming cup of tea sat. It hadn’t been there before.

Ethan followed my gaze, confusion turning to alarm. He lifted the cup, sniffed, then swore. “Wolfsbane.”

My chest tightened, fury coursing through me. Someone had tried to kill me. Here. In my own home.

“Who brought this?” I demanded, my voice low and dangerous.

Ethan’s expression was grim. “One of the pack servants. She swore it was sent from Harper.”

My blood turned to ice. Not because I believed it never that but because someone wanted me to.

The traitor wasn’t gone. The same shadow that had stolen five years of my life was still here.

I forced myself upright, ignoring the pain tearing through my body. My vision blurred, but my rage kept me steady.

“They know I’m back,” I said. “And they’re not finished.”

Ethan’s eyes hardened. “Then we find out who it is.”

I shook my head. “No. We wait. They’ll come again. They always do.”

And when they did, I would be ready.

But as I lay back, my body screaming in protest, one thought consumed me

If the traitor was still inside Crescent Moon… then Harper was in more danger than she had ever been.

Lucas realizes someone in the packhouse tried to poison him, and the traitor who betrayed him years ago is still among them closer than anyone suspects.