Page 1 of Alpha’s Second Chance (Moonlit Secrets #5)

The scent of cinnamon and fresh bread lingers in the air as I sit across from Grant on the rooftop patio of The Silver Spoon, our favorite restaurant. The dim glow of the hanging lanterns bathes the space in a warm amber hue, making the night feel deceptively intimate. Below us, Silverbrook hums softly with life—couples strolling along the cobbled streets, laughter spilling from late-night cafés, the occasional honk of a car passing through town.

Everything feels peaceful. But inside, my wolf stirs.

I ignore it. I’ve gotten good at that.

Grant reaches for my hand across the table, his touch firm but controlled. I used to love that about him—his predictability, his solid presence, his quiet confidence. He’s the man who always has an answer, a plan, a vision for the future. And for the longest time, I told myself that was enough.

I take a sip of wine, letting the smooth, dry taste coat my tongue. It should be a night of celebration. Our wedding is just two days away, and I should feel... happy. But instead, unease presses against my ribs like a warning I can’t quite place.

"You’re quiet tonight," Grant notes, his blue eyes searching for mine.

"Just tired," I lie.

He nods, accepting my answer easily. "I was thinking," he continues, swirling the wine in his glass, "after the wedding, we could start looking for a new house. Something bigger. Maybe with a yard for Theo to play in."

I smile automatically. A bigger house. A perfect life. Stability. The things I thought I wanted. But something about the way he says it—so assured, as if my future is already written in stone—makes my stomach tighten.

"That sounds nice," I murmur, though my voice lacks conviction.

His phone buzzes on the table between us. He glances at it, his expression tightening for a fraction of a second before he snatches it up.

"Work?" I ask, feigning casual curiosity.

"Yeah," he says, already standing. "Just a quick call. Be right back."

He doesn’t wait for me to respond before striding toward the edge of the rooftop, pressing the phone to his ear.

I watch him go, my unease growing. It’s not like I expect him to tell me every detail of his work, but something about his urgency seems... off.

I brush a hand through my hair, stealing a quick glance at my faint reflection on the screen of my phone—my wavy chestnut hair catching the light, my golden-hazel eyes slightly dimmed with exhaustion. My instincts are warning me of something, but I can’t tell what.

Then I hear him.

Grant’s voice, low and sharp, just around the corner where he thinks I can’t hear.

"You don’t need to worry. She’s completely in the dark... Yes, I’ll make sure she’s isolated after the wedding... No, she has no idea what’s coming."

A chill skates down my spine.

For a moment, I think I’ve misheard. But then he speaks again, his tone clipped and businesslike.

"I’ve been patient long enough. The second she shifts, we’ll have everything we need. The tests can start immediately."

My heart slams against my ribs.

He knows.

The blood drains from my face as realization crashes into me like a violent wave. He knows about me. About what I am. And he’s been planning something all along.

I press a hand to my stomach, nausea rising. My wolf snarls beneath my skin, clawing to be free, but I force her down. Not now. Not here.

I should leave. I should grab Theo and run. But I can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but listen as the man I was about to marry calmly discusses my fate like I’m nothing more than an experiment.

"She won’t fight," Grant says, a smirk evident in his voice. "She’s too afraid of what she is. That’s why she’s perfect."

A bitter taste fills my mouth. He thinks I’m weak.

My fingers curl into fists, nails digging into my palms. I should have trusted my instincts. Should have listened to the part of me that always felt something wasn’t right.

Grant’s voice lowers. "Once we have her, the others will follow."

I freeze. The others.

He’s not just after me.

I shift in my seat, my pulse quickening.

Who is he working with? How deep does this go?

Then, as if the universe itself is answering my unspoken question, I feel it.

A presence. A shift in the air.

Not Grant. Someone else is watching me.

A shiver runs down my spine as I turn, my breath catching. In the shadows beyond the rooftop, near the entrance to the alley, a man stands completely still. His frame is tall, powerful, exuding raw dominance. His dark hair moves slightly in the evening breeze, and even from this distance, I feel his gaze on me.

The world narrows, my senses sharpening in a way they haven’t in years. The scent of pine and musk—wild and untamed—fills my lungs, and my wolf responds immediately, shoving against my control with startling force.

Rowan Mercer.

I don’t know how I know his name. But I do.

Our eyes lock. Something deep and ancient clicks inside me, as if I’ve been walking blind all my life and have just now learned to see. A strange, undeniable force pulls at me—primal, intoxicating. My heart pounds, my breath hitches, and for a second, everything else fades away.

Then I remember—Grant.

I whip my head back toward him, panic seizing my chest. He’s still on the phone, still speaking in that calm, calculated voice. But I know time is running out.

I turn back to the alley.

Rowan is gone.

The connection breaks like a snapped thread, leaving me reeling.

I don’t have time to think about what just happened. All I know is that I need to get out. Now.

I throw some cash on the table and push away from my seat, my hands shaking. Grant turns just as I make it to the door, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Everything okay?" he asks, feigning concern.

I force a smile, my throat tight. "Yeah. I just—I forgot I need to check on Theo."

It’s a weak excuse, and I can tell he doesn’t quite buy it. His gaze lingers on me for a second too long. Then he nods, offering a small, lingering smile.

"See you soon, love," he murmurs.

I grip the doorknob so hard my knuckles turn white. Then I step through the door leading back into the building, my pulse hammering.

I won't wait. I won’t hesitate.

I run.