Chapter 8 The Misunderstood Attack
Their second meeting happened under the full moon. Dolphus was sixteen then. His wolf had already awakened, muscles sharpening with every moon cycle. Elena, only eleven, was small, fragile and her scent still untouched by the shift. Yet that night, she bled for the pack.
Elena had thrown herself forward, shielded Drake from the attack, and took two blade strikes meant for him. The silver sliced through her skin, yet silence ruled her tongue. Blood wept from her wounds, yet she held her ground.
Dolphus recalled the way she swayed, panting softly. He felt his wolf lurch forward, desperate to ease her suffering, but her eyes warned him away.
He had said then, “If you let me, my family can protect you. We can arrange a different life for you.”
Her reply was cold, voice calm like water before a storm. “Those who are unwanted should keep a distance and walk their own path. That way, they won’t expect too much.”
She added, “Mr. Farrington, I hope you and your family stay out of my business.”
That was the moment Dolphus Farrington, the future Gamma of Crescent Moon Pack released the resistance in his heart.
But that night, he did something unforgivable in the eyes of his bloodline. He lied.
He tricked the Hamilton family. Told them that if they adopted Elena, his family, which is the powerful Farrington line, would support them. And that's his first step into Elena’s world. His first interference.
After that night, his wolf eyes followed her scent more often. Every whisper about her, every story, every report, he tracked.
He watched her evolution. From a dirt-stained, frail girl into something more.
Her second year of junior high, she broke through California College’s Mathematics Olympiad. She scored an untouchable full mark.
Her first time in the International Mathematical Olympiad? Gold. They called her “Genius Girl.” The title spread through different packs, but Dolphus knew. It wasn’t just genius. It was survival.
She shined, again and again. But when she smiled for Drake, when she fell in love so openly, so carelessly, Dolphus watched from behind his golden-rimmed glasses. His wolf stirred restlessly. He saw her disappear up the stairs, her back to him, and behind his glasses, he hid emotions even he didn’t dare name.
Elena returned to her small room. The night air drifted through the window. In her hand, the glass of water trembled slightly.
Then, her phone vibrated. She looked down. It was Marcus Paterson.
The screen lit up six missed calls.
Her heart skipped. Marcus never called that much unless it was serious.
The screen lit up before she could press redial. She grabbed it.
“Marcus?”
“Elena. Something happened to Mrs Lyra Taylor!” His words broke out, breathless and raw, as if he’d chased her across endless miles.
Her heart dropped.
Marcus pushed on, “Mrs. Lyra pushed Drake and Cassandra down the stairs at the airport! Drake... he doesn’t remember her. He’s accusing her of attempted murder. Right now, they’ve locked her up at the station.”
Elena’s breath hitched.
Mrs. Lyra? In Glendale? How?
Her mind spun. Mrs. Lyra, no. She wasn’t just a woman from her past. She had been her moon when there was no light. When Seraphina Farrington was kidnapped, it was Lyra who helped her escape. When Seraphina died giving birth, bleeding out under a blood moon, the Farringtons had rejected Elena completely. It was Lyra who took her in, renamed her and taught her how to run and to survive.
Lyra wasn’t her blood. But she was her mother.
Timid, soft-spoken Lyra. How could she push anyone? Let alone Drake and Cassandra?
Elena’s voice was hoarse. “How are they? Drake? Cassandra?”
“I don’t know. My sister is already there, maybe at the hospital. I’ll come get you now,” Marcus said quickly.
“No,” Elena growled, every instinct screaming. “I’m going to the police station.”
“Elena, listen to me.” Marcus’s tone sharpened. “Drake doesn’t remember Mrs Lyra.If you go there, if he sees you with her, he’ll think you sent her to attack them. You know what that means, Elena. He’s the Beta’s heir. He’ll bury her.”
Elena’s blood chilled.
“So I’m calling you to stop you from making it worse. I’ll take you to the hospital instead.”
She hung up.
Her hands shook slightly as she changed into dark clothes and sneakers. No time to think or hesitate.
Her wolf inside growled. She had to see Lyra.
She had to know the truth.
The moon was full, hanging heavy in the sky as her taxi tore through Glendale.
She gripped her phone, eyes fixed on the trending news.
Videos.
One video, over and over. Cassandra’s fans screaming. The airport stairway crowded, bodies moving like waves. Security tried to push back the fans. Drake, the second-in-command, shielding Cassandra with his own body. His wolf’s power pulsed around him, visible even on screen. He backed away, protecting her.
Then, Mrs. Lyra.
Elena’s breath caught.
Only half of Lyra’s face showed in the footage, blurred, yet unmistakable. She looked terrified, pushed by the crowd, shoved forward by invisible hands. Sweat glistened on her face as she stumbled.
She wasn’t attacking. She was being pushed.
But the fans didn’t care. Neither did the media.
Lyra tried to move toward Drake, maybe to show him the photos, maybe to speak.
Instead, she was shoved.
She bumped into Drake, who held Cassandra tightly, and the two of them went tumbling down the stairs.
The screams echoed from the video, but Elena heard them in her soul.
When the taxi screeched to a stop at the police station, Marcus was already there. His expression was grim, but Elena’s eyes burned like silver.
He stepped in front of her. “Elena, don’t. If Drake finds out your connection with Lyra, he’ll think you’re behind this. You know what Drake is like now. You’ve seen the change in him. You’re not his mate anymore. You’re nothing to him.”
Elena met his gaze coldly.
“I’ve divorced him. Why would I care about him and Cassandra Travers?”
Then she brushed past him.
She walked straight into the police station, her scent marking the air.
Inside, she spoke quickly and she demanded to see Lyra.
Minutes later, the door opened.
Mrs. Lyra sat inside the cold, grey room. Her shoulders trembled. Her hair was unkempt, her face pale and streaked with tears.
When she looked up and saw Elena, her composure shattered.
“Ellie!” Lyra sobbed.
Elena’s throat tightened. The name. It had been years since anyone called her that.
Lyra tried to stand, but Elena crossed the distance and took her hand gently. Lyra’s old hands shook in hers.
“I didn’t do it. I didn’t push them. I swear. Ellie, you have to believe me.” Lyra’s voice cracked as tears rolled down her cheeks.
“I believe you,” Elena whispered fiercely. “I’ve seen the footage. I know someone pushed you.”
Lyra’s crying slowed.
“Lyra, listen to me. Why were you at the airport? Why did you come to Glendale?”
The older woman wiped her face, breathing raggedly.
“Your mother’s family. The Monroe’s. They found me. Said Nathan was getting married. They wanted your grandfather’s contact.”
Elena stiffened.
“I told them... Seraphina is dead. They didn’t care. They demanded your grandfather’s contact, and said Nathan was his blood too. They said they wanted help for the wedding expenses. I refused.”
Lyra sniffed hard.
“Then Derrick... that beast... threatened me. Said if I didn’t help, he’d expose you. Go on TV. Family-search shows. He said he’d drag your name through the mud.”
Derrick Monroe. Elena’s fingers twitched.
Lyra broke into sobs again.
“I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. Then this show... ‘Connecting to Family’... they found me. Bought me a ticket. Said I could help you by speaking up. I thought... I thought if I came, if I explained, maybe Drake would remember you. Maybe he’d help you. Maybe he’d see the truth.”
Elena’s gut twisted.
“Connecting to Family?”
Lyra nodded weakly. “I brought photos, Ellie. Pictures of you and Drake from before. I thought if he saw them, he’d remember your bond.”
Lyra’s voice cracked again.
“But when I saw him... at the airport... I tried to go to him. I wanted to show him. I didn’t know the crowd was pushing me. I didn’t mean to bump him. I didn’t mean to... Elena, I didn’t want to hurt anyone. Please... please believe me.”
