Chapter 17: The Name I Chose

Seventeen years passed.

The life I had been given became my own.

I grew up in a small mountain pack far from Gray Harbor, surrounded by people who never knew anything about Evelyn Hart.

They knew me by another name.

Elara.

I liked it.

It didn't carry anyone else's expectations.

I wasn't the lost daughter of an Alpha couple.

I wasn't a rejected mate.

I wasn't the former Luna candidate of Ironwood.

I was simply Elara.

And I had learned something Evelyn never understood.

Being loved by others was wonderful.

But being able to love yourself was freedom.

By the time I turned seventeen, my wolf had awakened.

She was calm, unusually observant, and fiercely protective of the people I cared about.

One evening, I stood on the balcony outside our home and looked at the moon.

A strange ache appeared in my chest.

For a moment, I saw a warehouse.

A broken window.

Blood on the floor.

A silver bracelet.

I closed my eyes.

The vision disappeared.

“Elara?”

My mother called from inside.

“Are you all right?”

I turned around and smiled.

“I'm fine.”

She walked over and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders.

“You've been staring at the moon for ten minutes.”

“It's beautiful.”

She smiled.

“You always liked the moon.”

I didn't know why.

But she was right.

I had always felt strangely connected to it.

The next morning, our pack received an invitation from a neighboring territory.

The annual Gray Harbor summit was being held again.

My father placed the invitation on the table during breakfast.

“We don't have to go.”

I glanced at the letter.

Something inside me tightened.

“What territory is hosting it?”

“Gray Harbor.”

The moment I heard those words, a sharp pulse passed through my chest.

My wolf became restless.

I stared at the invitation.

“I want to go.”

My father looked surprised.

“Are you sure?”

I nodded.

“Yes.”

I didn't understand why.

But some part of me felt that I had unfinished business there.

We arrived in Gray Harbor three days later.

The city looked different from the memories buried inside my soul.

The streets were wider.

The buildings were taller.

The packs had changed.

Yet the moment I stepped through the city gates, my wolf suddenly went silent.

Then a scent reached me.

Cedarwood.

My entire body froze.

I knew that scent.

I had no idea how I knew it.

But I knew it.

A man walked out of the council building.

He was older than the figure in my memories.

His hair was darker.

His face was sharper.

But the moment our eyes met, something inside me cracked open.

Lucien.

The name surfaced in my mind before I could stop it.

He stopped walking.

His expression changed completely.

For one impossible second, neither of us moved.

Then his wolf surged forward.

He whispered a name.

“Evelyn?”

My heart began pounding.

I didn't understand.

“I'm not Evelyn.”

His face went pale.

He took one step toward me.

I instinctively stepped back.

The movement stopped him.

He looked at me as if he had just seen a ghost.

“Who are you?”

I hesitated.

“Elara.”

His eyes searched my face.

“You're alive.”

I frowned.

“Of course I'm alive.”

Lucien's hands began to tremble.

He looked away, struggling to control his emotions.

“I'm sorry.”

I didn't know what he was apologizing for.

My wolf growled softly.

Not in fear.

In recognition.

And that frightened me more than anything else.

That night, I dreamed of a girl named Evelyn.

She was standing beneath a silver moon.

She looked exactly like me.

She smiled sadly.

“You don't have to carry my pain.”

I stared at her.

“Who are you?”

She touched her chest.

“I was you.”

“But you are not me anymore.”

I woke before dawn.

My cheeks were wet with tears.

For the first time, I remembered everything.

The kidnapping.

The calls for help.

The betrayal.

The cheap bracelet.

The severed pack bond.

The memorial photograph.

The silver gates.

And Lucien.

I sat on the edge of the bed, breathing slowly.

I finally understood why his scent had felt familiar.

I finally understood why the moon had always felt like home.

But I also understood something more important.

Remembering Evelyn did not mean becoming her again.

Her life had ended.

Mine had begun.

I looked toward the window.

The sun was rising over Gray Harbor.

I whispered to the memory inside me.

“I won't repeat your mistakes.”

“And I won't live for the people who broke you.”

“I'll live for myself.”