Chapter 6: A Past of Lies

Celia sat by the window in her chambers, the moonlight casting a cold, silver glow on the darkened room.

Her heart still raced from the events of the past few days—the assassination attempt, Damon's brutal declaration of possession, the kiss that ignited a fire in her chest.

She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the confusing mix of emotions that swirled inside her.

Was she truly a mistake?

The question made her worried every moment of the day, haunting her thoughts.

The Alpha and Luna had made her feel as though she was nothing more than an inconvenience, something they had tried to hide away for as long as possible.

But even worse, they had planned to sacrifice her to Damon, the very Alpha they had sworn to defeat.

Had she been born to be a pawn in some larger game?

Her head throbbed as she pressed her fingers to her temples.

She had been raised in secrecy, hidden from the world—why?

For what purpose?

Why was Damon's pack so obsessed with her?

Why had he claimed her as his mate the moment they met, with no regard for the centuries-old laws that governed their kind?

She wasn't just confused; she was terrified.

Suddenly, a soft rustling from the corner of her room drew her attention.

Celia's instincts flared, and she whipped her head around, searching the shadows.

She was alone… or so she thought.

A figure emerged from the dark, barely a silhouette.

Before she could scream, the figure pressed a hand over her mouth, silencing her.

"Don't scream," a voice whispered in her ear, its tone low and urgent.

"I'm not here to hurt you, Celia. But you need to know the truth."

The figure stepped into the light, and Celia's eyes widened.

The man was tall, with dark hair and sharp features, but it was the look in his eyes that unsettled her.

He had the eyes of someone who knew more than they should, someone who had seen things that others were never meant to see.

"What do you want?" Celia demanded, her voice shaky despite her best effort to sound strong.

The man hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully.

Then, without saying another word, he reached into his cloak and pulled out a small, tattered scroll.

He unrolled it slowly, revealing an ancient text written in a language she didn't recognize.

"This," the man said, his voice hushed, "is the prophecy about your bloodline. It's been hidden for centuries, kept from you… kept from everyone. But you have the right to know."

Celia's heart skipped a beat.

The prophecy?

Her bloodline?

The man pushed the scroll toward her, his eyes narrowing with intensity.

"You are more than you realize. You are the key to a power that could either save or destroy this world. The Alpha King — Damon — knows this. And he's been hiding the truth from you. But I'm here to make sure you don't stay in the dark any longer."

Celia stared at the scroll, the weight of his words sinking into her bones.

She hesitated for a moment before slowly taking the parchment from him.

As she unfolded it, she squinted at the symbols written there, the language unfamiliar but oddly compelling.

The more she focused, the more the words seemed to shift, as though they were speaking to her, calling out to something deep inside.

"You're the one they've been waiting for," the stranger said softly.

"The one with the power to change everything. You don't even know what you are, do you?"

Celia's mind raced as she scanned the document, feeling a strange pull to the words.

Her fingers trembled as she traced the symbols.

Something inside her stirred, as though a hidden power had just been awakened.

"What… what does it mean?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The stranger's eyes were somber, almost pitying.

"It means that your existence was never an accident. It means that Damon's obsession with you has a far deeper purpose. And it means that your past, your family… everything you thought you knew about yourself… has been a lie."

Celia swallowed hard, trying to process the flood of information.

She wasn't a mistake.

She wasn't just a pawn in some game.

But if everything she'd been told was a lie… What did that make her?

Before she could voice the questions racing through her mind, the man stepped back, disappearing into the shadows as quietly as he had come.

"Wait!" Celia called, but he was gone.

The room fell silent again.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she stood frozen, the prophecy in her hands.

She felt a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, anger, and above all, a deep sense of betrayal.

Damon had known something about her, and now, so did she.

But why had he kept the truth from her?

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Meanwhile, Damon Blackwood paced restlessly in his chamber, his mind filled with conflicting emotions.

He had never expected this.

He had never expected to find his mate in someone like Celia—someone who held such power, such potential.

The very blood running through her veins was worth more than gold.

Yet, now that he had her in his grasp, he found himself questioning everything.

What if she knew the truth?

He had never intended for her to find out.

The last thing he wanted was for Celia to discover the prophecy and the dark history that surrounded her bloodline.

If she learned the truth, it could tear them apart.

He was already on the edge—his feelings for her had only grown stronger with each passing day, and the idea of her rejecting him, of her turning her back on everything they had shared… It was unbearable.

But Celia was unpredictable.

She was fierce and smart, and more than that, she was alive in a way that no one else was.

She couldn't be controlled, not like the others he had conquered.

And that terrified him.

But what terrified him even more was the possibility that she might never forgive him if she uncovered everything.

************************************************

Celia walked aimlessly through the big corridors of Damon's fortress-like home.

Her mind was still reeling from the stranger's words, the scroll clutched tightly in her hands.

Her bloodline.

The prophecy.

Everything felt wrong, as though the very foundation of her world had just crumbled under her feet.

Her thoughts were interrupted when her eyes caught a small wooden chest tucked away in the corner of her room.

It was old, faded, and seemed almost forgotten.

It was covered in dust, and yet something about it drew her in.

Her heart quickened as she moved closer, feeling an odd sense of familiarity.

She kneeled before it and gently opened the chest.

Inside was a stack of yellowed papers, bound together with a fragile ribbon.

At the top was a letter, its edges frayed with age.

She felt a strange compulsion to open it, her fingers trembling as she unfolded the paper.

Her breath hitched as she read the words:

"Celia, my darling child, if you ever find this letter, know that I loved you more than anything in this world. But the time has come for you to leave, to run from the one who will claim you as his. Damon Blackwood is not your salvation; he is your doom. His heart is as dark as his power. Run before he finds you. Before it's too late."

Celia's hands shook violently as she read her mother's final words.

Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, and her throat tightened as the meaning of the letter settled over her like a suffocating blanket.

Run before he finds you.

The words echoed in her mind, repeating over and over, a haunting warning from a mother who had long been gone.

But how could she run now?

Damon had already claimed her as his mate.

Her life was tangled with his, and escaping felt impossible.

But the question lingered—Could Damon really be the monster her mother had warned her about?

As Celia sat there, the letter still clutched tightly in her hands, she heard footsteps approaching from the hallway.

She quickly shoved the letter into the chest, trying to calm her racing heart.

The door creaked open, and Damon entered, his gaze settling on her with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

"Celia," he said softly, his voice laced with concern, "you've been quiet. What's going on in that mind of yours?"

But Celia's mind was a storm of doubt and fear.

She couldn't answer him, not yet.

She wasn't ready to confront the truth.

Instead, she looked up at him, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Damon… I need to know everything."

"What do you need to know , Celia?" He said softly.

"l found my mother's letter,somewhere in our chamber "

"Do you know anything about it,Damon?"

"No , I don't " Damon said, slightly confused.

" What is the letter about?" he asked curiously.

Celia looked at him unsure of what to say.

"Forget I asked" she said quickly.

"Okay Celia" he answered softly.

"Let's head back" he said a moment later.

With Celia's question kept ringing in his mind, they made their way to the pack house