Stolen Identity

"Giselle? Help?" My voice was a broken wheeze. My body trembled against the cold stone slab. I was practically drained of life, yet the fresh agony of the brand on my cheek pulsed with every heartbeat.

She stood in the doorway. She was a vision of perfection in a flowing white gown covered in tiny, shimmering crystal shards. Her beauty belonged in a palace, not this damp, reeking dungeon. She did not move. She did not rush to my side. Her striking purple eyes stared at me. I searched her face for pity. I found only disgust. She looked at me like I was a rotting corpse, not her twin sister.

I thought I should look like her. We were twins. But six years in this hell hole had stolen my youth. My skin was a roadmap of scars. My hair was a matted mess.

"Don't be fooled. I'm not Giselle," she said. Her tone was flat. Cold. "You are. I'm Celine Mercer."

"What? No," I choked out. The throbbing of my heart pounded in my ears. It pumped the precious blood they kept stealing from me. My mind spun, trying to catch up to her words. It slowly dawned on me. The fake name. The white dress.

"You did this?" My voice cracked, turning into a piercing shriek. My chest caved in with the weight of the betrayal. "You put me here?"

"Did what? Take what was mine?" she sneered.

"I'm Celine! It's my blood in your veins!" I thrashed against the heavy iron restraints. My wrists screamed in protest. I turned my head toward the guards. The movement made my burned cheek stretch and tear. They kept their heads down. They refused to meet my gaze.

"She's lying!" I screamed at them. I poured every ounce of my remaining strength into the plea. "She's not Celine! It's me! Why else would you take my blood?"

My energy evaporated. I went limp against the blood-stained mattress.

Giselle stepped further into the room. "Don't listen to her," she told the guards. "You know who the Luna is. You saw the games. Everyone did."

Her voice was smooth. It was calm. It sounded exactly like my voice, minus the six years of endless screaming.

The pack doctor stepped out from the shadows. He leaned over my leg. He poured a warm, pungent liquid over my open wounds. The pain flared hot and sharp. I cried out again, tears spilling over the fresh, sizzling letters burned into my face. He wrapped my leg with clean bandages. He handled me like a piece of meat being prepped for slaughter.

I hated them. I hated all of them. How could they stand there and believe her lies?

"Was it you?" I sobbed. "Please, Gisel—"

"Celine," she snapped, cutting me off. "I won't respond to your name, you crazy girl."

She turned her attention to the men in the room, though her cold purple eyes remained fixed on my broken body. "See? It is good I kept her locked down here. She is an ungrateful, untrustworthy traitor to our Alpha. She should be happy to serve our pack."

"Please, Giselle." My voice broke. "Please. We are sisters. We love each other. How could you do this?"

Not even my darkest nightmares could have conjured this reality.

She tensed. A muscle feathered in her jaw. Then, she threw her head back and laughed.

"Yes. We are sisters." She waved a dismissive hand at the men. "Leave us. I want to speak to this traitor alone."

The guards nodded. They filed out of the cell. One of them let his gaze linger on me for a fraction of a second before staring at the floor. I recognized that look. It was guilt. He knew. They all worked for her. I had wasted thousands of prayers and pleas on deaf ears.

The heavy iron door clanged shut. We were alone.

My body shook harder. The shock began to recede, making way for a pathetic, weak anger. She was the real traitor. She betrayed the Alpha. She threw her own flesh and blood into a dungeon to steal my life. She was wearing my dress.

Memories flooded my mind. Giselle always wanted the best toys. She always demanded the biggest slice of cake. She craved our parents' attention. If she didn't get what she wanted, she threw tantrums. I let her win. I let her take my things because I hated fighting. I just wanted peace.

I remembered the day I won the pack games. She vanished. She didn't stay to congratulate me. The pieces clicked into place. She went straight to the Alpha. She pretended to be me. And I had gone home, waiting for a mate who never came.

"Do you know what day it is?" Giselle asked. She paced closer to the bed. The crystal shards on her dress caught the dim torchlight, casting tiny rainbows across the damp stone walls.

"No," I rasped. "I haven't known the day for six years."

"It's our eighteenth birthday today."

More tears welled in my eyes. They spilled over my lashes and tracked down my cheeks. They hit the raw, blistered skin of the PIG brand. I hissed in pain.

Eighteen. I used to dream of this day. I was supposed to become Alpha Darius's chosen mate today. I was supposed to be the Luna. The Alpha would stand before the entire pack and announce me as his blood provider, his destined mate. I earned it. I won the games. It was my right.

My blood was special. It was the sweetest he had ever tasted. I remembered the way he looked at me when he said it. His eyes were dark with hunger and promise.

A fresh wave of agony hit me. How could anyone be this evil? How could jealousy twist my sister into a monster?

"Isn't this a beautiful dress?" She stepped into my line of sight and twirled. The white lace and satin swished around her perfect legs. "Darius gifted it to me."

Hope drained from my chest. I had nothing left to bargain with. She would never let me go. She had built a six-year empire of lies. She could never confess the truth to Darius now.

"Please," I begged. The desperation tasted like ash on my tongue. "I will give you all my blood. You can keep your lie. You can be Luna. Please. Just let me go free..."

I froze.

A scent washed over me. It cut through the stench of copper, mold, and charred flesh. It was sweet. It smelled like vanilla and fresh pine trees. My chest tightened. The wolf inside me, Rheana, stirred for the first time in months.

Mate.

My fated mate was near. The one blessed by the Moon Goddess herself.

Who was he? My battered muscles relaxed for a split second. The intoxicating aroma wrapped around my senses like a warm blanket. Could he find me? Could he follow the scent down into this hell and pull me out?

Giselle reached out. She traced a finger down my unburned cheek. She let out a sarcastic, mocking sigh.

"Oh. Poor sister. Guess you just found out your fated mate is in the same building. Do you know who he is?"

She paused. She watched my eyes widen. She fed on my confusion and shock.

"It's Alpha Darius. Your fated mate. But he chose me."

"No!" The word ripped from my throat. "Our mate bond is real. I can feel it! He must not know I am here!"

Giselle giggled. It was a high, girlish sound. It made my stomach turn. She looked at me like I was a foolish child.

"Happy birthday, my dear sister. Don't you realize? Darius can smell you. We haven't been that far away from each other all these years."

"No," I shook my head frantically against the hard mattress. "He can't. He didn't reject me!"

"Why would he bother?" she shrugged. "You have been nothing but a pig for us. He knew you were down here. He has known this whole time."

The world tilted. The air vanished from my lungs. The dungeon walls seemed to close in, crushing my ribs. If I thought being tortured by my sister was the ultimate nightmare, this shattered the very foundation of my soul. My mate knew. He drank my blood. He let me rot in chains.

"You're just saying that to hurt me," I whispered. I squeezed my eyes shut. More tears stung the fresh brand. I flinched, my whole body curling inward against the restraints.

The heavy door opened. A guard stepped inside. He kept his head bowed.

"The Alpha Darius is looking for his Luna. It is time."

"My wedding," Giselle smiled. She smoothed the front of her satin dress. "Isn't it lovely? My mate. I have always loved him, but you knew that." Her words sliced through me like ice.

"Let me see him. Please?" I begged. I needed to see his eyes. I needed to know if it was true.

She reached into the folds of her dress. She pulled out a small, ornate silver hand mirror. She leaned over and held it inches from my face.

"You think he would ever accept such an ugly mate? You think he wants a pig?"

I forced my eyes open. I stared into the glass.

I hadn't seen my reflection since I was twelve years old. Back then, I was vibrant. I had rosy cheeks and bright eyes. I was a child full of life.

The thing staring back at me was a monster.

My face was sunken and hollow. The skin was a sickly, translucent pale. Dark, bruised bags hung heavy under my eyes. Then I saw the brand. The fresh, seared flesh on my left cheek. The letters PIG were carved deep into the muscle. The skin around it was inflamed, swollen, and weeping clear fluid.

My eyes were bloodshot. My hair was a dull, greasy mat clinging to my skull. Only my purple irises retained a tiny spark of the girl I used to be.

I saw the thick, jagged scars crisscrossing my neck. I knew beneath the ragged sheet, my body was a hundred times worse. I was pathetic. I was a broken, hideous thing.

Shame crashed over me in a suffocating wave. I didn't want Darius to see me. I didn't want anyone to look at this monster.

A sob tore from my lips. I couldn't hold it back. The sound echoed off the stone walls, a pathetic whimper of a defeated animal.

"How dare you be so stupid," Giselle hissed. "How dare you think the Alpha wants you for anything more than your blood. Imagine him mating with you, when he can have me."

A spark ignited in the dark void of my chest.

She was evil. They were all evil. They took my name. They took my life. They took my mate.

Deep inside, Rheana snarled. The wolfsbane in my system was fading. My pure blood always burned through poisons faster than normal wolves. I felt the primal rage pool in my muscles. I wanted to rip her throat out. I wanted to tear that stolen dress from her body and paint the walls with her blood.

Giselle stood up straight. She snapped the mirror shut. She must have seen the sudden shift in my eyes. The fury replacing the despair. But she looked bored. She adjusted a crystal on her sleeve.

"Guards," she called out.

Three large men stepped into the cell. They crossed their arms, waiting for her command.

"Yes, Luna. Do we need to fetch the doctor again?"

"No. Not this time. Not anymore." She turned her cold gaze back to me. "Well, you still have beautiful eyes. I will take those as my wedding gift to myself. Guards. Dig out her eyes."

The command echoed in the room.

The men stepped forward.

Rheana roared.

I ripped my right arm upward. The metal chain around my wrist groaned. The rusted bracket in the stone cracked. My pure blood surged, feeding a fire I didn't know I possessed. I wasn't twelve years old anymore. I wasn't the little girl who let her sister take her toys.

With a feral scream, I tore my arm free. The metal cuff sliced my skin to the bone, but I didn't care.

I lunged.

Giselle shrieked. She stumbled backward, tripping over the hem of her beautiful white dress.

My hand shot out. My claws extended, finding the pristine silk. I ripped downward. The fabric tore with a loud, satisfying screech. Crystals scattered across the stone floor like hail. My fangs elongated. I snapped my jaws forward. My teeth grazed her forearm. I felt the warm, metallic burst of her blood hit my tongue.

I almost had her throat.

Then a massive weight slammed into my side.

Bones cracked as I hit the floor. The guards didn't hesitate. They shifted mid-air. Three massive wolves tackled me. Heavy paws pinned my arms. Jaws clamped down on the back of my neck, forcing my face into the dirt.

I thrashed, kicking my scarred legs. I spat Giselle's blood onto the stones.

A hand grabbed my hair. My head was yanked backward. A guard shoved a rag soaked in concentrated wolfsbane deep into my nasal cavity. The toxic burn shot straight into my brain. Rheana whimpered, shrinking back into the dark corners of my mind. The fire in my veins turned to ice. My muscles went slack. I lost the will to fight.

Giselle stood by the door. She cradled her left arm. A single, deep gash marred her perfect skin where my canine had caught her. Blood dripped down her fingers, staining the ruined, torn bodice of her wedding dress.

Her chest heaved. I saw it then. A flicker of genuine terror in her purple eyes. I had made her bleed. I had proven she was mortal.

The fear vanished, replaced by an ugly, twisting rage.

"Kill her," she spat.

The guard holding my neck hesitated. He looked up at her. "But, my Luna. The blood."

Giselle's face turned purple. She screamed, the sound echoing like a banshee. "I said kill her! Do it now!"

"Yes, my Luna."

The guards dragged me back to the slab. One grabbed my uninjured wrist. He pulled a hunting knife from his belt. He didn't bother with precision. He sliced straight through the fresh bandages. He cut deep into the meat, reopening the main artery.

Crimson blood sprayed through the air. It hit the floor, pooling fast and hot.

"Hang her upside down," Giselle commanded. She pressed a hand over her bleeding arm, her voice shaking with pure malice. "Collect all the blood you can. My Alpha will feast on his wedding day."

They didn't give me time to process the words. Rough hands grabbed my ankles. They locked heavy iron shackles around my legs. The metal bit into my skin.

A chain rattled near the ceiling. A pulley squealed.

I was hoisted into the air. The sudden rush of gravity pulling my internal organs toward my throat made me gag. I swung back and forth, suspended by my ankles like a slaughtered pig in a butcher shop.

A guard dragged a massive, ornate golden bowl across the floor. He positioned it directly beneath my dangling head.

Another guard stepped up. He grabbed a handful of my matted hair to steady my swinging body. He pressed the cold steel of his blade against my neck.

He sliced.

It wasn't deep enough to kill me instantly. It was a precise, cruel cut designed to let the blood flow freely.

The pain blinded me. More wolfsbane was shoved into my nose, burning my sinuses and ensuring my accelerated healing factor remained suppressed.

I looked down. Heavy drops of dark crimson fell from my wrist. A steady stream poured from my neck.

Drip. Drip. Splash.

The blood hit the bottom of the golden bowl. The metallic scent filled the cell, mingling with the vanilla and pine of my traitorous mate. The pain morphed into a strange, numbing cold.

Giselle stepped close. She avoided the pooling blood on the floor. She leaned in, her lips inches from my ear.

"Now, I don't have to worry about you anymore," she whispered. Her breath fanned across my cheek. "You pathetic waste. Darius and I will mate tonight. I will be so grateful that you are dead and gone. I won't have to worry about my secrets being revealed to the pack."

She pulled back. The sound of her heels clicking against the stone floor grew distant. The heavy iron door slammed shut. The lock clicked.

I hung there. I couldn't see her anymore. Her voice seemed to float around the damp room, mocking me from the shadows.

My body swung gently from the ceiling. A dead pig. A discarded vessel.

The blood drained from my body. The golden bowl slowly filled with my life. The edges of my vision darkened. The cold crept from my toes, moving down my legs, settling heavy in my chest. The agonizing throb of the brand on my face began to fade.

The steady sound of my blood hitting the gold was the only noise left in the world.

Was this it? Was my miserable life finally coming to an end?

The darkness rushed in, swallowing me whole. I closed my eyes, and let the void take me.