Shadows danced on the walls of Isabelle’s room as she sat by the frosted window, clutching the faintly glowing crescent pendant her mother had given her before she left the palace. It pulsed softly against her palm, a comforting reminder of the Moon Goddess’s presence and the divine lineage she carried in her veins.

She had fought to stay in the Ironclaw Pack, her heart foolishly believing in love and promises. "I love him," she had pleaded with her family. "Please, let me stay. I’ll be safe. I swear!"

Logan, her second elder brother, had been the fiercest in his opposition, his eyes blazing with fury. “They’ll never protect you like we can, Isabelle! You’re the ice princess, for the Moon’s sake. Do you think they even understand what you are? What’s at stake?”

But she had ignored his warnings, choosing instead to believe that Gabriel would keep her safe. After all, he had saved her once—three years ago, during the kidnapping attempt orchestrated by a rebel organization. That day, when he pulled her from the brink of death, she had believed he was her destiny.

Her knight in shining armor.

Now, she could barely recognize the man she once adored. The truth was undeniable: Gabriel wasn’t her protector. He was her downfall.

The morning came with a fever that refused to break, her body betraying her once more. Isabelle dragged herself to the pack hospital, each step heavier than the last.

The healer, a kind woman with silver streaks in her hair, examined her with gentle hands. “Your body is still reacting to the loss,” she said softly, her gaze pitying. “You need to rest, child. You’re still recovering.”

Isabelle nodded numbly, but rest wouldn’t heal the ache in her chest. The loss of her child—the one connection she had to a future—felt like a wound that would never close.

When she returned to the pack house, Gabriel was absent, as always. Yna, her only confidante, greeted her with a troubled expression.

“He’s with her again,” Yna murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Isabelle stiffened. She didn’t need to ask who “her” was.

“Did he say when he’d be back?” she asked, her voice deceptively calm.

Yna hesitated, her gaze darting away. “They’re planning their wedding. The pack… they’ve been told to keep it from you.”

For a moment, Isabelle felt the world tilt beneath her feet. But then she laughed—a sharp, bitter sound that echoed in the empty hall. “Of course. Why wouldn’t he? He wanted me to stay blind and obedient.”

Her voice dropped, laced with quiet resolve. “But I’m done, Yna. I’m leaving.”

Later that night, unable to sleep, Isabelle wandered downstairs to get some water. The pack house was eerily quiet, the air thick with the kind of stillness that made her skin crawl.

As she reached the kitchen, hushed voices floated toward her from the shadows.

“I still can’t believe someone murdered him,” Charlotte’s sweet, venomous voice carried through the dark. “The prince’s death… Do you think—”

“Shut it,” Gabriel hissed, his tone sharp and urgent. “We shouldn’t speak of his death here.”

Isabelle’s blood ran cold. They were talking about William, her brother.

Charlotte scoffed, her voice turning impatient. “You’re too cautious, Gabriel. Then what about the princess?”

Gabriel’s voice dropped, his words muffled but tense. “… hard… find...”

Her pulse quickened, unease clawing at her chest. Why were they talking about her family?

The floor creaked beneath her, and the voices fell silent.

“Who’s there?” Gabriel’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

The hallway was dark, the faint moonlight filtering through the large windows casting ghostly shadows along the walls. Isabelle stood frozen, her heart hammering in her chest. Gabriel’s sharp voice echoed through the silence again, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Who’s there?”

Gathering every ounce of courage she had left, Isabelle stepped forward, letting the dim light illuminate her face. Gabriel’s piercing gaze met hers, and she could see the flicker of surprise before he quickly masked it with his usual cold demeanor.

“Isabelle,” he said, his voice softening slightly, though suspicion lingered in his tone. “What are you doing down here at this hour?”

She swallowed hard, willing her voice to remain steady. “I couldn’t sleep. I came down to get some water.” Her eyes flicked toward Charlotte, who stood just behind him. The she-wolf’s eyes gleamed with malice, her lips curling into a faint, triumphant smirk.

Gabriel’s brow furrowed. “Did you hear anything?”

Her heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to shake her head. “No. I just got here.”

Charlotte exhaled dramatically, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “We didn’t mean to disturb you, Isabelle. Gabriel and I were just finishing up.”

“Finishing up what?” Isabelle asked, her gaze narrowing.

The smirk on Charlotte’s face faltered for a split second before Gabriel stepped in, his tone deceptively casual. “We had a late meeting with Charlotte’s pack. It ran longer than expected, and she wanted to stop by for tea before heading home.”

Isabelle’s eyes flicked to the table near them. It was empty—no cups, no teapot, not even a hint of warmth lingering in the air. Her stomach churned at the blatant lie, but she forced her expression to remain neutral.

“Tea at three in the morning?” she asked softly, her voice carrying an edge she couldn’t quite suppress.

Charlotte bristled, but Gabriel placed a hand on her arm, silencing her before she could respond. “You’ve been looking exhausted lately, Isabelle,” he said, his tone shifting to something almost kind. “You should take a break. Why don’t you spend the day outside tomorrow? Get some fresh air, clear your mind.”

She stared at him, her instincts screaming that something was wrong. Still, she forced herself to nod. “Maybe I will.”

Upon hearing her answer, Gabriel’s shoulders relaxed as if he had achieved some victory. He offered a faint smile. “Good. You’ll feel better.”

Charlotte gave her one last glance, smug and satisfied, before brushing past her. Gabriel followed closely behind, pausing only to say, “You should go back to bed.”

As they disappeared into the shadows of the hallway, Isabelle let out a shaky breath, her hands trembling at her sides. She glanced back at the empty table, her suspicion solidifying into certainty. Whatever Gabriel and Charlotte were doing, it wasn’t just a late-night meeting.

The first rays of sunlight streamed through her curtains as Isabelle sat by her window, unable to sleep after the confrontation. The warmth of the crescent pendant around her neck provided little comfort as her mind raced with unanswered questions.

By the time the house began to stir, she was dressed and waiting for Yna in the kitchen. Her Omega friend arrived with a tray of bread and fruit, her face lighting up when she saw Isabelle.

“You’re up early,” Yna said, setting the tray down.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Isabelle admitted, taking a seat. “Yna, do you know if anything’s happening tomorrow?”

Yna froze, her hands hovering over the tray. Her expression turned guarded, and she avoided Isabelle’s gaze.

“Why do you ask?” Yna said carefully.

The unease in Isabelle’s stomach twisted tighter. “Gabriel suggested I go out tomorrow, said I needed fresh air. It felt… odd.”

Yna hesitated before finally sighing. “You’re not going to like this, Belle.”

“Tell me,” Isabelle demanded, her voice sharper than she intended.

Yna glanced around, ensuring no one else was nearby before leaning closer. “It’s an engagement party. For Gabriel and Charlotte.”

The Ironclaw Packhouse exuded luxury, a testament to Eleonor’s meticulous planning for her son’s engagement banquet. The grand ballroom brimmed with pack members and allies, dressed in their finest attire. Gabriel’s mother had spared no expense for this event, determined to solidify Charlotte’s position as the future Luna.

In the shadows of the bustling hall, Isabelle stood unnoticed. Her headscarf concealed her identity, while Yna’s concoctions masked her scent. She lingered in a corner, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd, her heart weighed down by the betrayal she’d endured.

“Isabelle, if they recognize you…” Yna whispered anxiously, clutching Isabelle’s arm. “They’ll tear you apart. Everyone thinks Gabriel sent you away on vacation.”

Isabelle’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. “Vacation?” she repeated mockingly. “I guess betrayal comes with perks now.”

As she watched the guests laugh and mingle, snippets of conversation reached her ears.

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

“Yes,” the man replied, lowering his voice. “They’re desperate to find the prince’s murderer. William may have been a scoundrel, but his death embarrassed the kingdom.”

“Scoundrel is an understatement,” another chimed in. “He gambled away fortunes and seduced countless women. Honestly, his death feels like karma.”

The mention of the prince’s name sent a shiver down Isabelle’s spine. Even here, she was reminded of the untimely death of her eldest brother. But until now, she didn't know what to feel about it. William was cruel to her in the past, and he indeed was a scandalous prince, but did he really deserve to be killed like that?

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

“Charlotte is perfect—strong, graceful, and from a noble lineage. Isabelle was always… ordinary.”

Isabelle clenched her fists. Their words were daggers, slicing through the already fragile remnants of her pride. Even Eleonor, Gabriel’s mother, joined the ridicule, her voice carrying above the chatter.

“I’ve never approved of Isabelle,” Eleonor declared, sipping her champagne. “She was always beneath us. Charlotte will give us the Alpha heir we deserve.”

Upon saying mean things towards Isabelle whom they thought was away, the older woman glanced at Charlotte who was beside the Alpha. “Charlotte, my dear,” she called her precious daughter-in-law, placing a hand on the younger woman’s arm, “I can’t wait to see my grandchild. I hope you conceive the Alpha heir soon.”

Charlotte smiled demurely, but Isabelle’s vision blurred with anger and grief. Memories of her own lost child surfaced, each one a painful reminder of what she could never have. She clutched her stomach, her nails digging into her palms as she fought to keep her composure.

“Isabelle,” Yna urged again, panic in her voice.

Her friend tugged at her arm. “Please, Isabelle, let’s leave. You don’t need to do this.”

But Isabelle pulled away. “No,” she said, her voice low but laced with steel. “I’ve had enough. If they want to celebrate, let me give them something to remember.”

At that moment, Isabelle had already reached her breaking point. Her vision blurred, but not from tears—this was fury. Pure, unrelenting fury.

She stepped forward, her scarf slipping slightly as gasps rippled through the crowd. Whispers turned to stunned silence as she made her way to the center of the room.

“Why?” she said, her voice cutting through the silence. “Am I not allowed to join your party? You all seem to be having the time of your lives.”

Gasps and whispers rippled through the crowd as they recognized her.

“Isabelle?”

“I thought she was in vacation!”

“What is she doing here?”

"What a way to spoil the party..."

Gabriel was at her side in an instant, his face a mixture of anger and disbelief.

“Isabelle,” he hissed. “What are you doing here? You told me you were leaving today.”

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Did I? I must’ve changed my mind.” Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the room. “What’s this party for, Alpha? You didn’t mention it when you suggested I take a vacation.”

Before Gabriel could answer, Eleonor stepped forward, her lips curling into a sneer.

“Yes, Isabelle, you’re not allowed here!” she snapped. “Can’t you see this party isn’t for a lowly omega like you?”

Isabelle squared her shoulders, her voice steady and sharp. “I didn’t realize an omega, who was the long term girlfriend of the alpha, needed permission to be in her own pack’s party. Or does that only apply to me?”

The tension in the room thickened as the two women locked eyes.

“You’ve always been insolent,” Eleonor spat. “What should we expect from a she-wolf with a lowly background, after all? Are you that desperate for my son's wealth and power?”

“Don't mirror your greed to me, old hag,” Isabelle shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

The room buzzed with murmurs as Eleonor's face darkened. “How dare you speak to me like that!” she hissed before raising her hand and slapping Isabelle across the face.

Isabelle staggered but didn’t fall. Straightening, she met Eleonor’s furious gaze head-on.

“You can hit me, Eleonor, but it won't change the fact that you're a greedy old hag,” she said coldly.

Eleonore’s voice trembled with rage. “Gabriel, I want her banished! Banished this instant! Guards, remove this insolent omega!”

The guards stepped forward, their hands gripping Isabelle’s arms, but before they could drag her away, an elderly man in the corner gasped.

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

All eyes turned to him as he held up a newspaper. On its front page was a portrait of a regal-looking woman, her features strikingly similar to Isabelle’s.

The crowd erupted into chaos, whispers flying as everyone compared the portrait to Isabelle.

“Oh my gosh! Doesn’t this look like Isabelle?”