CHAPTER 3: The Crown’s Verdict

Damon's POV)

My jaw tightened as I stood in my study, staring at the untouched bourbon on my desk, hoping it would erase the memories.

Outside, the moon hung low, casting a pale light over the courtyard, where Isabel had once danced barefoot beneath the stars before I pushed her into the shadows. I hated myself for it, but I despise the idea of her belonging to someone else. The image of her tangled in Blake's arms lingered in my mind, refusing to fade. Her skin was bare, her cheeks flushed, and her lips parted in soft surrender as she lay against him, leaving a haunting image. None of it fit. None of it made sense. She rarely spoke to him and never gave him a smile, let alone a glance worth keeping. But what I had witnessed had stripped me of reason and awakened the beast within me.

"You aren't thinking clearly." Camela's voice slipped into the room as smooth as poison. She stood framed in the doorway, arms folded, and every line of her crimson dress designed to provoke. "I'm thinking clearer than ever," I said, but I could tell my voice lacked strength. "You are the Lycan King, but your partner has made you look foolish. Isabel cheated and had an affair with another man under your roof." Camela continued, reminding me of what had transpired. The pain of the truth made me clench my fist.

"What's worse is..." Camela added in a smooth, cutting voice, "She wasn't even sorry." She looked annoyed. As if being caught was only an inconvenience. Then she rambled, spilling lies to defend herself, and not one tear until you dragged her away.” I exhaled sharply and ran my hand through my hair. "She was crying in the basement," I said, clinging to that fleeting memory. Camela's tone changed like silk on steel as she dismissed it without hesitation. "She has been playing you the entire time, Damon. You've shown too much kindness and patience. You gave her everything, and she spat it back at you. Blake, of all men, "That filthy alcoholic!”. There was silence in the room for a while.

Camela then approached and put her hand on my shoulder. Her grip was firm and deliberate. "This is why kings don't mate with orphans," she muttered. "They seek power and recognition and have no understanding about loyalty. Survival is all that matters. "Don't push it, Camela," I said as my gaze flicked to her hand, and she withdrew with a faint smile. "You're right," she replied. "But if you don't set an example, others will believe they can desecrate the crown without facing any repercussions. And after this, you already know the pack won't accept her as Luna.”

Her words hit me like poison, and my anger outweighed my desire to deny them.

She was right, and I hated her for it. Isabel wasn’t just an omega; she was my mate, my weakness, and it would destroy me if I let it. Isabel had already cost me more than I could bear, and I would rather burn everything than bear that shame. "I need to speak with the Council," I said calmly. Camela's lips curved, and she bowed her head. "As you wish, my King." She responded and left.

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(Isabel's Pov)

When the guards arrived, I understood.

I didn't fight because my body was weak and my eyes were dry from too many tears. I couldn't tell which hurt more, the betrayal or the silence. They said nothing and dragged me out like a slave, leading me to the Hall of Judgment.

The room was large and chilly, with black marble shining in the torchlight. The elders sat in their stone seats, cloaked in silver and grey, their eyes appeared unreadable, and the air was heavy with the weight of judgment.

Off to the side, Camela stood tall in a red dress with a high collar, her eyes circling me like a vulture smelling death, and her smile pierced through my face. Blake was not present. The guards had already whispered about his fate: he was banished without a word of defense, hauled away in chains, maimed, and half-conscious. His mate wept as he was taken, but she chose to accompany him into exile. 

It was now my turn. Damon walked in without looking at me while I sat frozen, wondering what would happen to me.

All of the elders greeted the lycan king, and as soon as everyone was quiet, Elder Merek stood up and said, "The offense is betrayal of the crown, and the punishment rests with the king.”

Damon took a distant, icy step forward and his voice echoed down the hall as he spoke, "I gave Isabel a place among us; she was trusted, sheltered, and elevated above her rank, but she repaid it with disgrace." His words were so hurtful that I winced. Is this how he really saw me? I thought to myself. His refusal to look at me, as though I didn't exist, was worse than the accusations.

He turned to the elders and spoke in a firm, ruthless tone. "I will not allow disloyalty to contaminate this pack. She must be banished for the good of the realm”. The chamber shook with whispers, gasps, and the movement of bodies dressed in bulky robes, but all fell silent when the gavel struck the stone. There was neither a trial nor a defense, and they showed me no mercy after the judgment. Under a starless sky, I was marched barefoot to the eastern gates with my wrists bound and my skin covered with thin grey linen.

With a triumphant smile, Camela waited by the path, and as we approached, she leaned closer and whispered, "This is what happens when little girls reach too high." "Next time, keep your legs closed.” The weight pulled me down, but I raised my head and spoke in a steady, low voice.

"Lucy warned me about you. She said that you couldn't be trusted..."

"Oh, was she aware? ...Well, looking at you now, it's obvious you didn't listen to her advice." Camela snorted.I met her gaze and spoke calmly. "She betrayed me. Why?" Her smirk deepened. "Oh, that. I know secrets that could destroy her, so she had no choice." "And Blake?" I pressed. Camela dramatically drummed her index finger against her chin. "Nothing, actually; he was an ideal pawn.”

"Blackmail and lies... But the moon goddess didn't pick you. I was her choice. Camela, you will always be beneath me, no matter what you do." I growled and laughed quietly. After a moment of anger and a stuttering smile, she forced a laugh. "You're unbearable, even when you're broken, but our conversation is over; you have an exile to finish." She muttered and left, while I continued walking.

Damon folded his arms across his chest and stood far away from the gates. He just observed without saying anything. The mate bond between us ached sharply and mercilessly. I released the pull and looked away first. My steps took me past the gates, barefoot and chin high. He had cast me out and separated me from the pack. But in doing so, he gave me something far more valuable than belonging: freedom. And I had nothing left to lose, which made me dangerous.