Chapter 19: He Looks Familiar Too

Olivia’s POV

​"Don’t bother lying to me," Lucas said, his deep voice stopping me before I could even open my mouth to deny it. "Lying will only make things ten times worse for you. Don’t tell me I’m mistaken, because I’m not. That injury didn’t come from falling. So go straight to the point, or I’ll go right back out that door and tell my brother the exact truth."

​Shit. How the hell did he know?

​My stomach twisted with unease. I stared at Lucas, my heart beating so hard against my chest that I was surprised he couldn’t hear it. His eyes remained fixed on my injured arm, like the truth was somehow written across the bruises.

​For one stupid second, I had actually thought my plan was perfect. Apparently, I had forgotten there was an Alpha King in the house.

​Anyone but Lucian. If Lucian found out I had broken my own arm just to get out of playing, he would probably break the other one himself or throw me into the dungeons for deceiving him. I could already imagine his face. That cold stare. The questions. The suspicion.

​Why did you hurt yourself? What are you hiding? Why are you really here?

​No. Absolutely not. Lucas could not tell Lucian.

​My heart hammered against my ribs. I couldn’t tell Lucas the absolute truth—that I wasn’t even Princess Annabel, but a palace maid forced to take her place. But I had to give him something convincing enough to keep his mouth shut. I couldn’t outright deny hurting myself anymore, but I could definitely spin a lie around the reason why.

​"I... I had to do it," I finally whispered, my voice barely above a breath.

​Lucas straightened and folded his arms across his chest. He wasn’t angry. Somehow, that made it worse. He looked completely calm, like he already knew the truth and was simply waiting to see how much more trouble I wanted to create for myself.

​He raised a single brow. "Why?"

​"Because..."

​My mind went blank.

​Of course. I had managed to fool an entire pack into believing a maid was a dead princess, but apparently coming up with one simple excuse was where my brain decided to stop working. Think, Olivia. Think! What excuse could possibly justify breaking a bone?

​Lucas’s eyes narrowed in warning. "Don’t even think about lying to me."

​Too late.

​"The violin!" I blurted out. "The violin I’m supposed to play tonight... I don’t actually know how to play it."

​Lucas stared at me, his eyebrow rising even higher. "You’re saying Princess Annabel doesn’t know how to play the violin?"

​I almost flinched at the name, but I forced myself to meet his eyes. "No."

​That was probably the biggest lie I had told all morning. Real Princess Annabel could play beautifully.

​Lucas frowned. "I’ve heard you play before."

​My stomach dropped.

​Of course he had.

​"Two years ago," he continued. "At the Moonlight Ceremony in France. You played for almost twenty minutes."

​"Did you see me?"

​His brows pulled together.

​"Did you actually see me playing the violin?" I asked again.

​Lucas went quiet.

​Exactly.

​"No," he finally admitted. "You were behind a curtain."

​"That’s because the person playing behind that curtain wasn’t me."

​His eyes narrowed.

​"Whenever I was expected to perform at ceremonies, I always played from behind a curtain. My father told everyone it was because he didn’t want my face seen before I was married." I swallowed hard. "But that wasn’t the real reason."

​"Then who was playing?"

​"A violinist my father hired. She would stay behind the curtain while I remained there with her. Everyone outside heard the music and assumed it was me."

​"Why would your father go through all that trouble?"

​"Because he wanted everyone to believe his daughter was talented. He tried forcing me to learn when I was younger, but I hated it and eventually stopped trying. Instead of admitting that, he found another way to keep up the lie."

​Lucas stared at me for several seconds.

​Moon Goddess, please let him believe this.

​"So the woman I heard playing that night..."

​"Wasn’t me."

​He studied my face carefully. "And all those stories about Princess Annabel being an incredible violinist?"

​"Were lies," I said. "And if Lucian makes me play tonight, everyone is going to find out."

​I held my breath, watching his face intently. Inside my head, I was begging every force in the universe: Please Moon Goddess, let him buy this. Considering everything that has happened to me lately, I deserve at least one favor.

​Lucas stared at me for a long, agonizing moment. His eyes moved from my face to my injured arm.

​Then he scoffed. "Well, that was smart."

​I blinked. "Really?"

​"No. You broke your own arm because you didn’t want to play the violin."

​"When you say it like that, it sounds stupid."

​"Because it is stupid."

​I frowned, but Lucas simply shook his head. "You should have just told Lucian the truth instead of breaking your own bone."

​A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. "Tell your brother?"

​"Yes. My brother."

​"Have you met him? I’m serious. He would have mocked me for lying about knowing how to play, forced me up on that stage anyway, and watched me disgrace myself in front of his entire pack. You know your brother. He would have loved every second of it."

​"You don’t know that."

​"I’ve known your brother for two days, and yesterday he threatened to send my corpse home in a wooden box."

​Lucas went quiet. His mouth twitched slightly, but he didn’t argue.

​Before either of us could say anything else, a knock sounded at the door.

​"Come in," Lucas called.

​A woman entered carrying a small leather kit. She looked to be somewhere in her mid-thirties, with her dark hair tied neatly behind her head.

​She bowed immediately. "Alpha King." Then she turned toward me. "Princess."

​"The right arm," Lucas told her.

​The healer approached the bed and knelt beside me. "May I?"

​I nodded softly.

​The moment she gently took my swollen wrist, pain shot through it. I sucked in a sharp breath.

​"Sorry," she said softly. Her fingers carefully moved over the swollen area. "It’s fractured."

​Well, at least all that pain hadn’t been for nothing.

​She placed both hands around my forearm and closed her eyes, humming a quiet, soothing chant. Soft green light flared from her palms, warmth immediately spreading beneath my skin. At first, it felt nice, but then the shattered bone began moving and resetting itself. I bit down hard on my lip. That part definitely did not feel nice.

​While the healer worked, Alpha Lucas didn’t leave. He simply leaned back against the bedroom wall, folding his arms as he watched us with intense, calculating eyes. There was something about the way he looked at me—like he was trying to solve a puzzle that didn’t quite make sense. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

​The strange pressure in my arm continued for several seconds before slowly fading. When the healer finally removed her hands, the dark bruising and swelling had already gone down.

​I tried moving my fingers, and a heavy ache immediately radiated up my forearm. I winced.

​"The bone has been repaired," the healer explained softly. "But the area around it is badly bruised. You’ll still feel pain and weakness for a day or two. Keep it rested, don’t lift anything heavy, and don’t put too much pressure on it."

​My heart almost jumped with happiness. Perfect. Not the pain part, obviously—I wasn’t that crazy—but one or two days meant no violin tonight. My stupid plan had actually worked.

​"I won’t," I promised.

​The healer packed her things, bowed to Lucas, then to me, and quickly left the room.

​The door clicked shut, leaving heavy silence behind. It was just Lucas and me again.

​He pushed off the wall and took a slow step toward the bed. "Princess Annabel..." he began, his voice dropping into a thoughtful tone.

​My back straightened. "Yes?"

​He stared at me for several long seconds. "Have we met before? You really seem familiar."

​There it was again. That same question. He had asked me the same thing at dinner. Why was he so convinced that he recognized me?

​"No," I answered, trying to keep my voice steady.

​"Are you sure?"

​I swallowed hard. Maybe I should actually look at him properly. Until now, whenever Lucas stared at me, I had been too nervous about him discovering my identity to really study his face.

​So this time, I forced myself to gather every ounce of courage I had left and looked him straight in the eyes. Really looked at him.

​His face. His green eyes. His nose. The sharp line of his jaw and his broad cheekbones.

​As I studied him, a sudden, strange weight hit my chest. My brows slowly pulled together.

​Wait.

​He did look familiar.

​It wasn’t just him thinking he knew me. My heart gave a strange little jump. There was something deeply recognizable about him, too. I had seen that face before. Or maybe not his exact face, but the structure of it.

​"I..." I stopped and quickly looked away. "I don’t think so, Alpha King."

​Lucas continued watching me, the intensity in his gaze relaxing just a fraction. He let out a quiet sigh. "Get some rest."

​I nodded.

​He walked toward the doorway, stopping briefly before stepping out to cast one last look over his shoulder. Then he stepped into the hallway and closed the door firmly behind him.

​I released a long, shuddering breath. Finally.

​I stood up on shaky legs, dropped the towel, and struggled slightly with my weak arm to pull on a simple dress. My entire body felt exhausted. I crawled back onto the bed, pulled the thick duvet all the way up to my chin, and stared at the ceiling.

​Two days.

​I had been in this mansion for only two days.

​In that short amount of time, I had been locked inside a dark room, nearly died from a crippling panic attack, found my missing mother only for her to coldly deny knowing me, had a deadly snake placed in my bedroom, slept on the freezing hallway floor, deliberately fractured my own arm, and nearly watched two Alpha brothers tear each other apart beside my bed.

​At this rate, I wasn’t going to survive a week here.

​I closed my eyes, desperately wanting to sleep and forget everything for a few hours.

​Then my eyes flew wide open.

​Lucas.

​Why did he look so familiar?

​I began searching frantically through my memories, going through every face, every place, and every encounter I had ever experienced. Had I seen him at the Blood Moon Pack before? No. Had he ever visited the palace while I was working as a maid? Not that I remembered. Had I seen his portrait somewhere? Maybe, but that wasn’t it. The feeling was too personal.

​I closed my eyes again and pictured his face. That jaw. The shape of his nose. His broad shoulders. The heavy pressure of his aura.

​And suddenly, a buried memory flashed through my mind from four years ago.

​Dark trees. Blood. Pain. A poisoned arrow. A man lying beneath a tree in the deep, dark woods on the border of our territory.

​My breath caught in my throat, freezing there.

​No.

​I sat up slowly in the bed, the duvet sliding down to my waist as my heart began to pound against my ribs.

​I couldn’t remember the stranger’s face clearly from that night. I had been poisoned, burning with fever, and my vision had been far too blurry to make out sharp details. Everything had been a haze of shadows and pain.

​But Lucas had the exact same facial structure as the man from the woods. The same broad shoulders. The same shape.

​A cold, terrifying shiver ran all the way through me, settling deep in my bones.

​No... it can’t be him.