LOGINLEON'S POV I couldn't focus. The council meeting droned on around me—Kennedy discussing supply routes, Rogers reporting on patrol schedules, Damon pushing for another invasion. But my mind was elsewhere. In a cell beneath the palace. With a woman who'd gotten under my skin in a way I didn't understand and couldn't shake. "Brother, are you listening?" I blinked, realizing Damon had asked me something. "What?" His eyes narrowed. "I asked what you plan to do about the spy." "Isabella isn't a spy." "You can't know that." "I can," I said flatly. "Because if she were truly working for an enemy pack, she would've taken those documents. She would've run. Instead, she stayed, holding a single ledger, waiting to be caught." "Perhaps she panicked," Kennedy suggested smoothly. "Isabella doesn't panic." I stood, sudden
ISABELLA'S POV The dungeon beneath Redmoon Palace was everything I'd imagined and worse. Cold stone walls wept with moisture. The air smelled of mold, blood, and despair. Torches provided barely enough light to see, casting shadows that moved like living things. And the sounds—goddess, the sounds. Dripping water. Distant screams. The scurrying of rats in the darkness. The guards threw me into a cell at the far end of the corridor and locked the iron door with a heavy clang that echoed through my bones. "Comfortable?" one of them sneered. I didn't answer. Didn't give him the satisfaction. They left, their footsteps fading into silence, and I was alone. I sank onto the stone bench that served as a bed, wrapping my arms around myself. The cold seeped through my thin dress immediately, making me shiver.
ISABELLA'S POV I couldn't shake the feeling of Damon's eyes on me. Even after I'd hurried away from Leon's study, even after I'd turned three corners and descended two flights of stairs, I still felt watched. Hunted. My wolf paced anxiously beneath my skin. *Danger. Trap. Run.* But where could I run? I was already trapped in this palace, playing a role I couldn't escape. I reached my small chamber in the servants' quarters and pushed the door open—and froze. Someone had been inside. Nothing was obviously disturbed. The bed was still made, my few belongings still in place. But I'd been a warrior long enough to notice the small things: my hairbrush moved three inches to the left, the small crack in the floorboard now visible when I'd deliberately covered it with the rug, the faint scent of unfamiliar perfume lingering in the air. Rose and j
Isabella's POV The summons came just as the sun began to set. "His Majesty requests your presence in his private study," the guard said, his expression carefully neutral. My stomach dropped like a stone. Private study. Not the throne room where he held court. Not the council chamber where he strategized with his brothers. Not even the dining hall where he sometimes took his meals. Private. I wiped my hands on my apron, suddenly very aware that I smelled like kitchen soap and hard work. "Now?" "Now," the guard confirmed. I followed him through winding corridors I'd walked a hundred times, but somehow they felt different tonight—narrower, darker, like the walls were closing in. My wolf stirred restlessly beneath my skin. Something's different, she whispered. Be careful. We reached the heavy oak doors at the end of the west wing. The guard knocked once, then stepped aside without a word, leaving me standing there alone. "Enter," Leon's voice called from inside, low and command
Sierra's POV I couldn't leave my chambers for two full days. Two. Days. The humiliation burned hotter than the cramps still twisting my stomach. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard it—the laughter echoing through the palace corridors. The whispers that followed me like ghosts. The guards trying desperately not to smirk when they thought I wasn't looking. And her. Isabella. Standing there in that kitchen with her blank, innocent face like she hadn't just destroyed me in front of everyone who mattered. Rogers knocked on my door for the fourth time that morning. I'd been counting. "Sierra, please. Let me in." "Go away!" I screamed, hurling a cushion at the door. It hit with a pathetic thud that only made me angrier. "You can't hide forever." "Watch me!" A long silence stretched between us. Then his voice came again, softer this time, almost pitying: "Everyone's talking about it. They're saying you tried to poison the King's maid and it... backfired." My blood turned to ic
Evergreen Pack hadn’t seen a celebration this big in months. Not since before the invasion. Not since before the chaos, the bodies, the panic… and not since before Isabella vanished without a trace. Colorful lanterns hung from every branch of the courtyard trees. Music shook the ground. Food filled the long tables. Laughter rolled like thunder through the crowd. And right in the middle of it all stood Clara—Evergreen’s new Luna, wrapped in shimmering gold, smiling like she owned the world. Because she did. At least, for now. CLARA’S POV I raised my wine glass high, letting the light bounce off the diamonds around my wrist. Wolves cheered. Elders nodded proudly. Omegas bowed as I passed, whispering about how beautiful their Luna looked. Good. They needed to forget the dead child, forget the dungeon, forget the guard who was burned to death. A party was the perfect distraction. “Brilliant idea, my Luna,” Elder Rowan praised, his belly round and stuffed from the fea







