LOGINISABELLA'S POV"Which one?" he asked. "Left," I said quietly. His hands were gentle as he removed my shoe and began examining my ankle. His fingers probed carefully, testing for swelling or damage. There was none, of course. Because I hadn't actually injured it. "It's not swollen," Leon said, his voice neutral. "No heat. No visible bruising." "Maybe it's not as bad as I thought—" "You're not injured at all, are you?" I met his eyes. Saw the knowing look there. "I... I might have exaggerated slightly," I admitted. "I was embarrassed about being caught wandering. And I didn't want to get in trouble." "So you lied." "I embellished." "You lied," Leon repeated, but there was no real anger in h
ISABELLA'S POV I couldn't keep living like this. The constant vigilance. The endless pretending. The suffocating feeling of walls closing in from every direction. Petra's warning three days ago had made it worse. Someone was asking questions about Evergreen refugees. Someone was investigating. It might have been nothing. But it might have been everything. And the not knowing was driving me slowly insane. I needed to move. Needed to fight. Needed to feel like myself again, even if just for a moment. So tonight, I'd made a dangerous decision. I was going to train. The old storage building on the far edge of the palace grounds had been abandoned for years—Martha had mentioned it once, complaining about how it attracted rats. No one used it. No one visited
DAMON'S POVI spent the afternoon in the training yards, working out my frustration on practice dummies and sparring partners. My wolf prowled restlessly beneath my skin, eager for a real fight. Eager for blood. We'd been too idle lately. Too soft. We needed conflict. Needed to hunt. And Isabella was prey that needed hunting. As the sun began to set, I made my way to the servants' quarters again. Not to search Isabella's room this time—that had proven fruitless. But to ask different questions. I found Martha, the older maid who seemed to supervise the others, in the linen storage room. "My lord," she said, bowing quickly. "What can I do for you?" "The maid, Isabella. How long has have you known her?" Martha's expression grew c
DAMON'S POV I'd been watching Isabella for weeks now, and the woman was infuriatingly careful. Too careful. Too controlled. Too perfect in her role as the obedient little maid. Which only convinced me further that she was hiding something. I sat in the shadows of the palace gardens, a position that gave me a clear view of the servants' entrance, and waited. Watching was something I'd gotten good at over the years. Patience was a weapon too many wolves underestimated. And I was nothing if not patient when it came to threats against my family. Because that's what Isabella was, whether Leon wanted to admit it or not. A threat. She moved like someone with military training. Spoke like someone educated f
Each letter was worse than the last. Orders to suppress Isabella's supporters. Instructions on grain shipments that were slowly starving Evergreen to feed Redmoon. Commands to monitor me, to report my every move. And then I found it. The letter that confirmed everything I'd suspected but been too afraid to face. Luna Clara, His Majesty commends your success in eliminating the former Luna's heir. The child's death was necessary to prevent future complications. Your quick thinking and decisive action have proven your loyalty beyond question. Continue to monitor Alpha Edmund. If he shows signs of resistance or attempts to investigate the true nature of the invasion, you have His Majesty's permission to eliminate him and claim his death as an accident. You will remain Luna regardless. Your service to Redmoon will be rewarded.
EDMUND'S POV I couldn't get Ramona's words out of my head. Letters. Orders to eliminate you. Clara is dangerous. I'd dismissed her. Sent her away. Told her I didn't care. But that was a lie. I cared. Goddess help me, I cared about everything. About Isabella, who I'd failed so completely. About Magnus, whose small body I'd held while his blood cooled. About the pack that had been torn apart because I'd been too blind to see the traitor sleeping in my bed. Because that's what Clara was, wasn't it? A traitor. I'd known from the beginning that something was wrong. From the moment she'd confessed to opening the gates, to killing Magnus, I'd known she was dangerous. But I'd been too weak. Too broken. Too afraid of what would happen if I fought back. So I'd let her take control. Let her become Luna. Let her rule while I... wha







