Shadows flickered across the walls of Lillith’s chamber as she sat beside the frost-covered window, gripping the dimly glowing crescent-shaped pendant her mother had entrusted to her before she departed from the palace. A soft, rhythmic glow pulsed against her palm, a reassuring presence that reminded her of the Moon Goddess’s guidance and the sacred lineage flowing through her veins.

She had battled to remain with the Bloodmoon Pack, foolishly clinging to the notions of love and solemn vows. "I love him," she had begged her family, desperation in her voice. "Please, let me stay. I’ll be safe. I promise!"

Xavier, the second eldest of her brothers, had been the most unyielding in his opposition, his furious gaze burning into her. “They’ll never protect you the way we can, Lillith! You’re the ice princess, for the Moon’s sake. Do you honestly think they even comprehend what you are? Do you understand what’s at risk?”

Yet, she had disregarded his warnings, choosing instead to put her faith in Damien’s ability to keep her safe. After all, he had once been her savior—three years ago, during a kidnapping attempt orchestrated by a rebel faction. That day, when he pulled her back from the edge of death, she had convinced herself that he was her fate.

Her knight in shining armor.

But now, she barely recognized the man she had once cherished. The truth was harsh and inescapable: Damien was not her protector. He was her ruin.

Morning arrived, accompanied by a fever that stubbornly refused to subside, her body once again betraying her. Each step to the pack’s infirmary felt heavier than the last, yet she forced herself forward.

The healer, an elderly woman with streaks of silver running through her hair, examined her with a gentle touch. “Your body is still responding to the loss,” she murmured, sympathy shining in her eyes. “You must rest, child. Your recovery isn’t over yet.”

Lillith gave a slow, lifeless nod, but she knew that no amount of rest could mend the gaping wound inside her chest. The absence of her child—the last link she had to a future—was an agony that would never fade.

Upon returning to the pack house, she found it unsurprising that Damien was, once again, nowhere to be found. Mira, the only person she could still confide in, met her at the entrance with an uneasy expression.

“He’s with her again,” Mira whispered, her tone cautious.

Lillith tensed, already knowing exactly who "her" referred to.

“Did he mention when he’d return?” she inquired, her voice unsettlingly composed.

Mira hesitated, her eyes shifting away. “They’re planning their wedding. The pack… they were ordered to keep it from you.”

For a fleeting moment, it felt as if the ground had been ripped from beneath Lillith’s feet. Then, without warning, she let out a sharp, hollow laugh that resonated through the empty corridor. “Of course. Why wouldn’t he? He needed me to remain naïve and submissive.”

Her voice softened, laced with an unshakable determination. “But I’m done, Mira. I’m leaving.”

That night, unable to find sleep, Lillith wandered downstairs in search of a drink of water. The pack house lay in eerie silence, the air thick with an unsettling stillness that sent shivers creeping down her spine.

As she neared the kitchen, hushed voices carried toward her from the shadows.

“I still can’t believe someone actually killed him,” Selene’s sickly-sweet voice slithered through the dimness. “The prince’s death… Do you think—”

“Enough,” Damien cut in sharply, his tone edged with urgency. “We shouldn’t be discussing his death here.”

A chill crawled up Lillith’s spine. They were speaking about Victor—her brother.

Selene let out an impatient scoff. “You’re far too cautious, Damien. What about the princess?”

Damien’s voice dropped, his words indistinct but tense. “… difficult… locate…”

Her pulse pounded, unease settling deep in her chest. Why were they speaking about her family?

The floor creaked beneath her weight, and the voices halted abruptly.

“Who’s there?” Damien’s sharp, commanding voice sliced through the silence.

The corridor was shrouded in darkness, with only the pale glow of the moon casting eerie shadows along the walls through the towering windows. Lillith remained rooted to the spot, her heartbeat pounding against her ribs. Damien’s crisp voice sliced through the silence once more, sending a chill racing down her spine.

“Who’s there?”

Summoning every last shred of courage, Lillith stepped forward, allowing the dim lighting to reveal her face. Damien’s keen eyes locked onto hers, and for the briefest moment, she caught a flicker of surprise before he masked it behind his usual indifferent expression.

“Lillith,” he murmured, his voice carrying a slight softness, though the wariness in his tone remained. “What are you doing down here at this hour?”

She swallowed against the dryness in her throat, determined to keep her voice steady. “I couldn’t sleep. I came down for some water.” Her gaze flickered toward Selene, who stood just behind him. The she-wolf’s eyes gleamed with something sinister, her lips curling into a barely concealed, victorious smirk.

Damien’s brow knitted together. “Did you hear anything?”

Her pulse faltered for a split second, but she forced herself to shake her head. “No. I just arrived.”

Selene released a dramatic sigh, her voice laced with artificial sweetness. “Oh, we didn’t mean to disturb you, Lillith. Damien and I were just finishing up.”

“Finishing up what?” Lillith asked, her tone sharper than she intended.

Selene’s smug expression faltered ever so slightly before Damien smoothly interjected, his voice deceptively casual. “We had a late meeting with Selene’s pack. It ran longer than expected, and she wanted to stop by for some tea before heading home.”

Lillith’s gaze flickered to the table near them. It was completely bare—no teacups, no teapot, not even the lingering warmth of a recently shared drink. Her stomach twisted at the blatant falsehood, but she willed her features to remain composed.

“Tea at three in the morning?” she murmured, her voice carrying an undercurrent of doubt.

Selene stiffened, but before she could retort, Damien placed a firm hand on her arm, silencing her. He turned back to Lillith, his expression shifting into something almost tender. “You’ve been looking exhausted lately. You should take a break. Why don’t you step outside tomorrow? Get some fresh air, clear your mind.”

Her instincts screamed that something wasn’t right. Despite the warning bells in her head, she forced herself to nod. “Maybe I will.”

Damien’s stance relaxed, as though her response had granted him some kind of victory. A faint smile ghosted across his lips. “Good. You’ll feel better.”

Selene shot Lillith one last smug glance before brushing past her, their shoulders nearly touching. Damien followed closely, only pausing to say, “You should go back to bed.”

As they disappeared into the dimly lit hallway, Lillith released a trembling breath, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She turned toward the empty table once more, the uneasy suspicion curling tightly in her gut solidifying into certainty. Whatever Damien and Selene were truly up to, it had nothing to do with a simple late-night discussion.

By the time the first rays of dawn spilled through her curtains, Lillith sat by her window, unable to close her eyes for even a moment. The cool metal of the crescent pendant pressed against her skin, its warmth no longer as comforting as it once was. Her thoughts churned with unanswered questions, her mind restless as she replayed the confrontation.

The house gradually began to stir, signaling the start of a new day. Dressed and prepared, Lillith waited in the kitchen for Mira, her only confidante. When her Omega friend finally arrived, carrying a tray laden with bread and fruit, her face brightened upon seeing Lillith.

“You’re up early,” Mira remarked, setting the tray down.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Lillith admitted, taking a seat. “Mira, do you know if anything important is happening tomorrow?”

The simple question made Mira freeze, her hands hesitating over the tray. Her expression tightened, and she avoided meeting Lillith’s gaze.

“Why are you asking?” Mira’s voice was cautious, her words measured.

A heavy weight settled in Lillith’s chest, the unease she’d felt since last night growing sharper. “Damien suggested I go outside tomorrow, told me I needed fresh air. It felt… off.”

Mira hesitated, biting her lip before exhaling a quiet sigh. “You’re not going to like this, Belle.”

“Tell me,” Lillith pressed, her voice firmer than she intended.

Mira cast a quick glance around the kitchen, ensuring they were alone, before leaning in closer. Her voice dropped to a hushed whisper.

“It’s an engagement party. For Damien and Selene.”

The Bloodmoon Packhouse radiated opulence, a reflection of Marguerite’s careful planning for her son’s engagement celebration. The grand ballroom was alive with pack members and allies, all adorned in their most elegant attire. Damien’s mother had spared no expense, intent on securing Selene’s place as the future Luna.

Amid the lively festivities, Lillith remained unnoticed, concealed in the shadows. Her headscarf obscured her identity, while Mira’s specially crafted potions masked her scent. She lingered at the edge of the crowd, her sharp gaze sweeping across the room, her heart burdened by the betrayal she had suffered.

“Lillith, if anyone recognizes you…” Mira whispered anxiously, gripping her arm. “They won’t hesitate to tear you apart. Everyone believes Damien sent you away on vacation.”

A bitter smile played on Lillith’s lips. “Vacation?” she echoed mockingly. “Funny how betrayal comes with its own perks now.”

As she observed the guests laughing and mingling, fragments of conversation drifted to her ears.

“Have you heard about the royal family’s bounty?” a woman murmured to her companion.

“Yes,” a man responded, lowering his voice. “They’re desperate to track down the prince’s murderer. Victor may have been a disgrace, but his death humiliated the kingdom.”

“Calling him a disgrace is putting it lightly,” another voice interjected. “He squandered fortunes on gambling and left a trail of broken hearts. Honestly, his death feels like poetic justice.”

The mention of the prince’s name sent a chill down Lillith’s spine. Even here, she couldn’t escape the memory of her eldest brother’s tragic fate. Though Victor had treated her cruelly in the past and had indeed lived scandalously, she couldn't decide whether he truly deserved to be murdered.

She clenched her fists, forcing herself to focus on the present.

“Selene is everything a Luna should be—strong, elegant, and from a noble bloodline. Lillith was always… so ordinary.”

Lillith’s hands tightened into fists, their words slicing through the fragile remnants of her dignity. Even Marguerite, Damien’s mother, joined in the ridicule, her voice carrying effortlessly over the murmurs.

“I never approved of Lillith,” Marguerite declared, sipping her champagne. “She was never worthy of our family. Selene, on the other hand, will give us the Alpha heir we rightfully deserve.”

As if to emphasize her words, the older woman turned to Selene, who stood gracefully beside Damien. “Selene, my dear,” she said, affectionately resting a hand on her future daughter-in-law’s arm, “I look forward to my grandchild. I trust you’ll conceive the Alpha heir soon.”

Selene smiled demurely, but for Lillith, the words cut deep. A wave of grief and fury washed over her as memories of her own lost child resurfaced—an unbearable reminder of what had been stolen from her. She clutched her stomach, nails digging into her palms in a desperate attempt to steady herself.

“Lillith,” Mira whispered urgently, her grip tightening in alarm.

She tugged at Lillith’s arm. “Please, let’s go. You don’t have to do this.”

But Lillith pulled away. “No,” she said, her voice low but brimming with resolve. “I’ve had enough. If they wish to celebrate, I’ll give them something unforgettable.”

At that moment, something inside her snapped. Her vision blurred, not with tears, but with unrelenting fury.

She stepped forward, and as her scarf slipped slightly, a hush fell over the crowd. Murmurs and gasps replaced the chatter as recognition dawned on them.

“Lillith?”

“I thought she was on vacation!”

“What is she doing here?”

"Way to ruin the celebration..."

Damien was at her side in an instant, his expression a volatile mix of disbelief and anger.

“Lillith,” he hissed. “Why are you here? You told me you were leaving today.”

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Did I? I must have changed my mind.” Her eyes swept across the ballroom. “What’s this gathering for, Alpha? You never mentioned it when you so kindly suggested I take a vacation.”

Before Damien could respond, Marguerite stepped forward, her expression twisting into a sneer.

“Yes, Lillith, you’re not welcome here,” she snapped. “Can’t you see this event isn’t meant for a lowly omega like you?”

Lillith straightened her shoulders, her voice steady and cutting. “I wasn’t aware that an omega—who also happened to be the Alpha’s longtime partner—needed permission to attend her own pack’s celebration. Or does that rule apply only to me?”

The tension in the ballroom thickened as the two women locked gazes.

“You’ve always been insolent,” Marguerite spat. “What else can we expect from a she-wolf of such lowly origins? Are you truly so desperate for my son’s wealth and status?”

“Don’t project your greed onto me, old hag,” Lillith retorted, her voice laced with sarcasm.

A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd as Marguerite’s face darkened with fury.

“How dare you speak to me that way?” she seethed before raising her hand and striking Lillith across the face.

Lillith staggered but refused to fall. She straightened, her eyes locking onto Marguerite’s with icy determination.

“You can hit me all you want, Marguerite,” she said, her tone cold and unwavering, “but that won’t change the fact that you’re nothing more than a greedy old hag.”

Marguerite’s rage was palpable, her voice trembling as she turned to Damien. “I want her banished, Damien! Banish her this instant! Guards, remove this insolent omega from my sight!”

The guards moved swiftly, gripping Lillith’s arms, ready to drag her away. But before they could take another step, an elderly man in the corner let out a startled gasp.

“By the Moon Goddess!” he exclaimed, his voice ringing through the silence. “The princess with the ice bloodline has been revealed!”

All eyes snapped toward him as he held up a newspaper, his hands trembling. On the front page was a portrait of a regal-looking woman—her features bearing an unmistakable resemblance to Lillith’s.

The ballroom erupted into chaos, whispers flying as the guests turned to compare the image to the defiant woman standing in their midst.

“Oh my goddess! Doesn’t this look exactly like Lillith?”