Chapter 2: Soul Swap

Elara Morgan's eyes snapped open, her heart pounding. Disorientation hit her like a tidal wave as she stared at an unfamiliar ceiling. This wasn't her tiny room in the omega quarters. The air smelled different—rich leather, cedarwood, and a masculine scent she recognized but couldn't place.

She sat up, her movements feeling strangely off-kilter. The silk sheets slid against her skin, another unfamiliar sensation. Elara looked down at herself and froze.

These weren't her hands. They were more significant, more robust, with calluses she'd never had. And her chest... Elara's breath caught as she realized her breasts were gone, replaced by hard planes of muscle.

"What the hell?" The deep, rumbling voice from her throat wasn't hers either. It was Landon Wolfe's.

Panic rising, Elara stumbled out of bed toward the full-length mirror on the opposite wall. The face that stared back at her wasn't her own. It was Landon Wolfe's chiseled features, his piercing blue eyes wide with shock.

"This isn't possible," Elara whispered, watching Landon's lips move in the mirror. She reached up, touching the stubble on her—his?—jaw. "I'm dreaming. I have to be."

But the pinch she gave herself hurt, and nothing changed. Somehow, impossibly, Elara was in Landon's body.

Memory flooded back—the attack on the pack, the explosion, the darkness. "Am I dead?" she wondered aloud. "Is this some kind of twisted afterlife?"

Her new body thrummed with power. Elara could feel Landon's wolf just beneath the surface, confused and agitated by her presence. She took a deep breath, marveling at how different it felt in this larger frame.

A spark of possibility ignited in her mind. If she was in Landon's body, did that mean she had his strength? His authority?

Elara's lips curved into a smile that looked foreign on Landon's face. "Oh, this could be interesting."

Across the pack lands, in a small, sparsely furnished room, Landon Wolfe was having a very different awakening.

Pain was the first thing he registered. Every inch of his body ached like a herd of elk had trampled him. He groaned, the sound coming out higher and softer than he expected.

Landon forced his eyes open, blinking in confusion at his surroundings. This wasn't his bedroom. The air smelled of cheap soap and laundry detergent, undercut by a floral scent he couldn't place.

He tried to sit up, but his body felt wrong—lighter, smaller. Panic clawed at his throat as he looked down at himself. Gone was his muscular chest, replaced by the gentle curves of breasts. His hands were delicate, with slender fingers he didn't recognize.

"No," he breathed, the feminine voice that emerged sending shivers down his spine. "This can't be happening."

Landon scrambled out of bed, ignoring the protests of his aching body. He spotted a cracked mirror hanging on the wall and rushed toward it, his new center of gravity throwing him off balance.

The face that stared back at him wasn't his own. It was Elara Morgan's wide brown eyes, lips parted in horror. Landon raised a trembling hand to his—her?—cheek, unable to process what he was seeing.

"I'm that omega," he whispered, disgust and fear warring for dominance in his chest. "How is this possible?"

The last thing Landon remembered was the attack on the pack. He'd been fighting, hadn't he? There was an explosion, and then... nothing.

He closed his eyes, reaching for his wolf. But where there should have been raw power and dominance, he found only a timid presence cowering in the back of his mind—an omega wolf.

"No!" Landon shouted, slamming his fist against the mirror. Pain lanced through his hand, the delicate bones protesting the abuse. He stared at the broken skin on his knuckles, watching blood well up from the cuts.

This was real. Somehow, impossibly, Landon Wolfe—Alpha of Silver Moon Pack—was trapped in the body of a weak, pathetic omega.

Elara quickly adapted to her new situation in the Alpha's quarters. She paced the room, marveling at the strength coiled in every muscle. Landon's body responded to her commands with a fluidity and power she'd never experienced.

A knock at the door startled her out of her exploration. "Alpha?" a muffled voice called. "Are you alright? We heard a commotion."

Elara froze. What should she do? She cleared her throat, trying to pitch her voice to match Landon's usual tone. "I'm fine," she called back. "Just... just a bad dream."

"Of course, Alpha," the voice replied, sounding relieved. "The pack is gathering to discuss last night's attack. Will you be joining us soon?"

Elara's mind raced. This was her chance to take control and make things right. But she needed time to figure out precisely what had happened and how to navigate this new reality.

"I'll be there shortly," she said, injecting as much authority into her voice as she could manage. "Tell them to wait for me."

"Yes, Alpha."

As footsteps retreated down the hall, Elara let out a shaky breath. She had to get it together. If she was going to pull this off, she needed to channel every ounce of Landon's arrogance and command.

She strode to the closet, rifling through Landon's clothes. As she dressed, Elara caught sight of herself in the mirror again. The power radiating from her new form was intoxicating.

"No more cowering," she told her reflection. "No more taking orders or abuse. It's time for some changes around here."

Landon, meanwhile, could have handled the transition better. He paced Elara's tiny room like a caged animal, alternating between rage and despair.

How had this happened? Was it some kind of curse? A punishment from the Moon Goddess for rejecting his mate?

The thought of Elara sent a pang through his chest. Despite his cruel words, Landon remembered her jumping into the fight, trying to save him. And now... now he was trapped in her body, experiencing firsthand the life he'd sneered at.

Every movement felt wrong. He was hyper-aware of the softness of Elara's form, the way fabric brushed against sensitive skin. And the smells—gods, the smells were overwhelming. He could scent emotions, picking up fear and confusion from nearby rooms.

A timid knock on the door made him jump. "Elara?" a soft voice called. "Are you okay? You missed breakfast, and Gamma Sabrina is looking for you. She seems angry."

Landon's blood ran cold. Sabrina. The night of the attack wasn't the first time he'd seen her tormenting Elara, but he'd always looked the other way. And now he was the one in the crosshairs.

"I'll be right out," he called back, wincing at the unfamiliar voice that emerged.

He looked around the sparse room, noting the worn clothes and meager possessions. Was this really how Elara—how all the omegas—lived? The gulf between their experiences hit him like a physical blow.

Landon squared his shoulders, trying to summon some of his Alpha confidence. But in this small, fragile body, it felt hollow.

For the first time in his life, Landon Wolfe felt genuinely powerless. And he was terrified.

As Elara made her way to the pack meeting, she marveled at how others responded to her presence. Wolves dropped their eyes and tilted their heads, baring their necks in submission as she passed. The power was intoxicating but filled her with a sense of responsibility.

She opened the meeting room doors, and all conversation ceased. Every eye turned to her, a mix of respect and fear in their gazes.

Elara took a deep breath, channeling every ounce of Landon's arrogance and authority. "Report," she barked, striding to the head of the table.

Elara's mind whirled as the pack's Beta began detailing the aftermath of the attack. She had a chance to change things, to make life better for the omegas who had suffered under Landon's reign. But she had to be smart about it.

Certainly, life inSilver Moon Pack was about to change dramatically.

Across the compound, Landon huddled in a corner of the kitchen, trying to make himself as small and inconspicuous as possible. He'd narrowly avoided Sabrina earlier, but the terror of that near encounter still coursed through his veins.

Is this how Elara felt every day? Constantly on edge, afraid of what torment might be waiting around the corner?

A heavy weight settled in Landon's chest as he watched other omegas scurry about their duties. Shame, he realized. For the first time, he saw the consequences of his actions—or rather, his inaction.

He clenched his fists, feeling the sting of his earlier injury. Somehow, he had to fix this. But first, he needed to figure out what had happened and how to return to his body.

Little did Landon know, the woman now wearing his face had very different plans for the future of Silver Moon Pack