Ariana’s POV

I have lived my whole life surrounded by gold—golden chandeliers, golden walls, golden crowns, golden expectations. The palace is a place everyone else dreams of seeing, but for me, it has always been a reminder: I am Princess Ariana Mooncrest, only daughter of Alpha King Lucian Mooncrest, the royal heir everyone watches, studies, and judges.

But today, on my seventeenth birthday, all I feel is the weight of everything I am supposed to be.

Servants rush through the corridors with trays of food and baskets of flowers, preparing for the evening celebration. They bow deeply as I pass, addressing me with the same title I have heard my entire life:

“Princess Ariana.”

My smile is polite, but inside I feel a quiet heaviness. Birthdays are supposed to be joyful, but for me, they only highlight how isolated I truly am. No real friends. No freedom. No chance to breathe without someone reporting it to my father.

Today, all the noise feels louder.

The long hallway smells faintly of polished wood and royal incense. The walls are lined with portraits of past rulers—wolves who shaped our realm. At the far end hangs my father’s portrait, tall and stern, painted with the same intensity he carries in real life. He is a man of power, and everyone knows it.

But today, I need to speak to him. I need to say something he will not like.

I want to leave the royal pack.

Not forever—just one year. One year to be an ordinary wolf, living without guards, without servants, without the crushing title of princess.

Just me.

I stop in front of the large double doors of the Royal Council Chamber. The guards bow and open them silently. My heartbeat echoes in my ears as I step in.

My father sits at the head of the long table, discussing border matters with his trusted advisors. His aura commands the room—pure authority and strength. When his eyes lift to mine, the discussion halts immediately.

“Princess,” one advisor bows. My father raises a hand.

“Leave us.”

The room empties quickly. When the doors close, the silence feels heavier.

He studies me closely. “Ariana. You rarely come here on your birthday. What is troubling you?”

He always sees through me. Always.

I inhale deeply. “Father… There is something I want to do….Something I need.”

His expression remains unreadable. “Speak.”

“I want to spend one year outside the royal pack. To live like a normal wolf, without titles or privileges.”

For a moment, he simply stares.

“You want to leave the palace? To live as an ordinary wolf?” he repeats, as if testing the words.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

A thousand reasons rush through my mind: Because no one speaks to me without bowing, because every friend I’ve ever had wanted something from me, because the palace feels like a cage made of privilege, because I want to know who I am beyond gold and expectations.

But I only say, “I want to discover myself outside the palace walls.”

He exhales slowly and rubs his temple. He does that only when he is conflicted.

“Ariana, what you are asking is not something I can grant easily. You are the future queen. Sending you away puts you at risk.”

“I know. But I must try.”

He stands, pacing slowly in front of the large windows overlooking the courtyard. His silence feels like a test.

Finally, he turns back to me. “I cannot give you an answer today. Give me a few days to consider it.”

My heart sinks, but I nod. “I understand. I will wait.”

Three Days Later

I am summoned to the council room again. This time, my father stands alone, waiting. His expression is firm, but not cold.

“I have made my decision,” he says. “You may go.”

My breath catches. He really said yes.

“But,” he continues, “I will choose the pack where you will stay. I must ensure your safety.”

“Of course,” I nod quickly.

He meets my eyes. “Silvercrest Pack, one of the strongest northern packs. You will be safe there.”

My heartbeat quickens with excitement. Silvercrest. A place where no one knows me. A place where I can breathe.

“And I have a condition of my own,” I add carefully. “My identity must remain secret. No one must know I am the princess.”

He studies me long and deeply, then nods. “If that is what you want, I will honor it.”

For the first time since my birthday, hope blooms in my chest.

Weeks After the Decision

The palace has returned to its quiet rhythm, but everything feels different. My mother has taken over my preparations with a mix of worry and excitement.

She helps me choose simple clothes—nothing royal, nothing golden. Plain, comfortable outfits that blend into common life.

“You won’t need silk where you’re going,” she teases softly, brushing my hair. “You’ll need strength, patience, and humility.”

“I think I have all three,” I say, smiling slightly.

“I know you do,” she says, pulling me close. “You’re stronger than you think, Ariana.”

She teaches me a royal technique to suppress my wolf’s aura, making me appear ordinary. Then she dyes my long silver hair into a deep black and ties it into a simple braid and with glasses to complete the disguise.

“Aria Williams,” she announces with pride. “A normal girl.”

I laugh. “Exactly what I want to be.”

Clara Rivers, my distant relative, has already agreed to host me in Silvercrest. She is known to be gentle and wise—someone who will protect my secret.

Every night, I pack and repack my small bag. Every day, I feel my nerves tighten with both excitement and fear.

I have never lived outside the palace walls. I have never cooked for myself. I have never washed my own clothes. I have never walked down a street without guards at my side.

But that is exactly why I must go.

The Night Before I Leave

I stand on my balcony overlooking the royal city. The moonlight paints the rooftops silver. Tomorrow, I will walk out of the palace not as Princess Ariana, heir to the throne—but as Aria Williams, a girl with no rank and no privileges.

My father joins me quietly. For a long moment, we simply stand together in silence.

“You once said you wanted to know who you are without all of this,” he says. “I hope you find your answer.”

“I will,” I whisper.

He places a hand on my shoulder. Rare, gentle. “Remember, Ariana… strength is not always loud. Sometimes it is quiet. Sometimes it is choosing a path no one understands.”

His voice softens. “I am proud of you.”

My throat tightens. “Thank you, Father.”

When he leaves, I breathe in the cold night air.

Tomorrow, I step into the world not as the princess everyone respects and wishes to be but as the girl no one will notice.

For the first time in my life, I feel free and looking forward to what the world has in store for me.