Chapter 2

A hand shaking my shoulder pulls my focus from the history book in my lap, and I turn to face my mother, who gives me a helpless look and shakes her head with a small sigh.

 "We've landed, Isabella. The crew is unloading our luggage, and we will be disembarking soon." Mother informs me, squeezing my shoulder before she scurries off to Goddess only knows where. Sure enough, a few maids scurry along the private jet as they help clean the tables where scraps of food on plates lay untouched from our meal.

What was considered a 4-hour flight from Ottawa, where the Royal Pack is located on Mount Pakenham, to Muskoka, part of the territory where Frost Moon is located, flew by quickly, and I had no clue since my nose was buried in the large hardcover book. As I move to stand, I feel the effect of sitting in the same position for too long. My body aches as I stretch, the unmistakable sound of my body cracking while my left foot tingles from falling asleep. Taking the time for my body to regain its usual motion, I turn my head to look out the window at the crystal-clear Lake just outside the airstrip. Muskoka was considered a beautiful tourist area at one point before the other races came out of hiding. Now it's where the warrior pack lives deep within the woods.

 "Princess, do you need help carrying your bag?" A maid asks, bringing my attention to the petite brunette patiently waiting a few feet away from me. It seems that I am the only one left in the cabin of the jet.

 "No, thank you. Let's hurry since everyone else is waiting for us." I answer, picking up my purse and putting the history book away inside. The maid bows, letting me take the lead as I exit the private jet and descend the staircase, my eyes scanning the forest and the air strip where a small building - most likely the control center - sits just to the left of the crystal-clear water of the lake. The air is fresh, and a slight breeze blows through the leaves, leaving me feeling refreshed by the scent of pine, maple, and earth after sitting in a stuffy plane cabin for four hours.

Soldiers wait for us, their sunglasses covering their eyes, most likely scanning the woods for a threat hidden within the shadows, while everyone files into their respective vehicles sent by Frost Moon. Once we have settled inside the cars and our luggage has been stored in the trunks, the vehicles leave the airstrip, and the scenery begins to pass us by as we drive towards the main pack settlement. After another hour of driving on the highway with many breathtaking scenes of lakes and forest untouched and growing once again, we arrive at Barrie, Ontario, where the warrior pack sits.

For some odd reason, the closer we draw to the pack house, the more unsettled I feel. It's as if my heart and soul know something I do not that has me feeling uneasy.

"Are you okay, dear?" My mother asks, and I nod, taking a deep breath to try and calm my unsettled body. Some part of my intuition tells me that this trip to Frost Moon will be one I will not forget. After giving me a worried glance, my mother turns her attention away from me and instead turns to my father. Soon, the car ride is filled with my parents talking about the Pack we would be visiting, Frost Moon.

The Alpha, Alpha Damon Frost, has been in power for the last twenty years and has decided to give up his search for his mate to rule his pack properly. I felt bad for the wolf, as a mate is supposed to be a wonderful thing. But the one thing I did not agree on with Frost Moon Pack is this one rule, that only wolves who are Warriors are allowed to be mated into the pack.

This rule was established forty years ago when the previous Alpha, Jack Frost, lost his mate. No one knows what happened for this to come into place; all we know is that if a member of Frost Moon Pack found their mate and that mate turned out not to be a warrior, the Frost Moon Pack member has two options. Option One: You leave your pack and family and join your mate’s pack. Option Two: You reject your poor mate and take a chosen mate who is a warrior.

Unfortunately, most Frost Moon Pack wolves choose the latter option, breaking the hearts of their mates who are not warriors. The number of complaints sent to Nightlock Thorns about the Frost Moon Pack’s rule has caused my father many headaches. My heart throbs as I think about this rule, and with clenched fists, I decide to focus on the forest before us. It seems that dwelling on this information does not help me with the unease I feel.

With a sigh I turn my attention the binder that holds our agenda on this trip and what to expect from each pack to keep my mind off of the nerves that threaten to send me jumping. What interests me is the pack hunt that my Uncle plans for us and a grin spreads across my face. Of course he would plan this knowing how much I love a good hunt.

“I see you have read the event your Uncle plans.” My father chuckles out, and I nod.

                “Of course, ever since the redistribution of territories, many endangered animals have slowly risen in numbers. Heck, the animals whose numbers were normal, like deer and moose, have even risen, and hunting has become a popular way for packs to replenish their food storage, especially up north in the Northern Territories, Yukon, and Nunavut.” I reply with a grin, my hands itching to turn into claws for the good hunt. I catch my mother rolling her eyes at me and sigh inwardly. The image of a Queen is one I have never portrayed, and her annoyance towards me is clear as day when it comes to this topic. My father chuckles as the drive slowly comes to an end and the pack house comes into view, a large mansion that houses the Alpha, some Omegas meant to work on the upkeep of the pack house, and a place for visiting packs. Outside, a small entourage waits for us as the driver to or vehicle quickly exits to come around and open the door for us.

“King Jonathan, Queen Lisandra, I am Beta Malcom.” A large male steps forward as maids quickly get to work unpacking the luggage and taking them inside. I stand to the side, quietly watching things unfold as the unease inside me grows. Something is going to happen but I have no idea when.

“Beta Malcom, I was under the impression that Alpha Damon would greet us.” My father states, shaking the man’s hand albeit a little displeased by the situation before us.

“He was, but a group of rogues crossed the borders and stole a she-wolf who has yet to shift.” Beta Malcom states. My father nods in understanding, knowing that if the female is not rescued right away she would be groomed to be bred or sold as a prostitute in no mans land once known as Newfoundland. Her safety for the pack is just as important as or arrival.

With the greeting now done, Malcom orders the maids to take everyone to their room, his eyes lingering on me with a questioning gaze, but I ignore him, preferring to stay at the back of the Royal Entourage and take in the beauty of the building before me. The outside is an early Victorian mansion, the large bay windows I can see overlooking the front of the house seeming like a perfect place to curl up with a book to read or document while working. Of course, I maintain my curiosity to just looking at what I pass by, instantly surprised that the old building on the outside holds a modern interior.

“Miss, please follow me to your room.” A maid diverts my attention from scanning the large entrance with a spiraling staircase and pristine marble floors to her, a nervous look on her face.

“Lead the way please.” I reply, seeing her release a quiet sigh of relief before taking the lead up the stairs as I realize I had fallen behind and my pack members have already climbed the stairs before me.