CHAPTER FOUR

"We are leaving for the Black Star territory tomorrow," Alpha Damian announced, stepping into my tent later that evening. The armor he usually wore was gone, replaced by a fine black tunic, but his commanding presence was just as heavy. "The fight here isn't completely over, but my generals and soldiers can carry on without me. I need to return to my pack and introduce you to my people. They need to know their Alpha has found a wife on the warfront."

I looked down at my hands, which were finally clean after a hot bath his servants had prepared for me. "Do I have a choice?"

"No," Damian said smoothly, a tiny smirk playing on his lips. "A Luna belongs by her Alpha's side. Prepare yourself, Aisha. We move at dawn."

I didn't argue. I didn't have the right to, and honestly, I didn't care where we went as long as it brought me closer to destroying Mabel.

The journey to the Black Star Pack took less than a day in Damian's armored luxury vehicles. When we finally crossed the border, my breath caught in my throat. I had spent my entire life in the small, muddy village of the Blue Wing Pack, but this place was entirely different. Now it was completely clear to me why everyone across the territories talked about this pack.

It was like heaven on earth.

The streets were wide, beautiful, and incredibly neat. There wasn't a single piece of trash or dirt anywhere. Beautiful, towering structures made of white stone and glass lined the roads, and the pack members walking the streets looked happy, well-fed, and prosperous. But nothing prepared me for the pack house. Calling it a house was an insult; it was a sprawling, magnificent palace. The marble walls gleamed under the sunlight, and the gardens were filled with rare, glowing flowers. It looked like the kind of sacred place where the Goddess of the Moon herself would reside.

"Welcome to your new home, Aisha," Damian murmured into my ear as he led me up the grand golden staircase.

The very next day, the palace heralds made a massive announcement. There was going to be a grand celebration in the palace ballroom. It was a double occasion: to celebrate the victory of the recent border war, and to officially introduce me to the entire pack as their new Luna.

When the night of the party arrived, Damian’s servants dressed me in a breathtaking gown made of midnight-blue silk that hugged my curves and made my skin glow. For the first time in my life, I didn't look like a battered, dirty Omega. I looked like royalty.

The ballroom was packed with hundreds of people. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and wealthy lords and visiting Alphas from neighboring packs filled the room, laughing and drinking expensive wine.

Damian held my hand firmly as we walked down the grand steps into the center of the hall. The crowd went completely silent, all eyes turning toward us.

Damian raised his glass, his voice booming through the heavy silence. "People of the Black Star Pack, and honored guests! Tonight, we celebrate our warriors' bravery. But more importantly, I present to you the woman who fought by my side, the woman who will rule by my side. Meet your new Luna, Aisha!"

The room erupted into loud cheers and applause. I forced a polite smile onto my face, waving to the crowd. But as my eyes scanned the sea of faces in the front row, my heart suddenly stopped beating.

My blood ran completely cold.

Standing near the royal banquet table, holding a silver goblet, was a man I recognized instantly. He was massive, with broad shoulders and fierce, dark eyes that were currently staring at me in absolute, horrified shock.

It was Prince Samson. Mabel's husband.

He had changed since I last saw him; he wore the heavy, formal robes of an Alpha now. It hit me then—with his father, Alpha Brad, dead, Samson was now the official Alpha of the Blue Wing Pack.

Samson took a sudden step forward, dropping his goblet. The silver clattered loudly against the marble floor, spilling red wine like blood. The music died down as people noticed his sudden outburst.

"Aisha?" Samson choked out, his voice shaking with a mixture of intense grief, confusion, and raw fury. "You... you are alive?"

Damian narrowed his eyes, his grip tightening protectively around my waist. "Alpha Samson. Do you know my wife?"

Samson didn't answer Damian. He kept his eyes locked onto mine, taking another aggressive step forward. The kind warrior who used to smile at me in the palace kitchens was gone. In his place was a man consumed by bitter hatred.

"You filthy murderer," Samson growled, his voice vibrating with Alpha authority. "My wife told me everything. She told me you poisoned my father in his study and ran away like a coward! I have been hunting for you for a week!"

The ballroom gasped. Whispers broke out among the guests.

"That is a lie, Samson!" I shouted back, stepping out of Damian's grip. The pain of seeing him believe Mabel's lies cut deep, but my anger was stronger. "Mabel is the one who—"

"Shut up!" Samson roared, his claws starting to extend. But before he could shift, his nose twitched. He caught my scent—the true, unhidden scent of my inner wolf that was no longer suppressed by dirt or dyes. His eyes widened to the size of saucers as he realized what lay beneath my skin.

"She is a White Wolf..." Samson whispered, his voice cracking with a sudden, terrifying realization.

He looked at me, then at Damian, his face twisting into pure, unadulterated rage. In his mind, everything Mabel had told him must have suddenly made sense. To him, a hidden White Wolf pretending to be an Omega was the ultimate proof of a spy and a killer.

"You lied to us from the very beginning," Samson hissed, the tears of betrayal shining in his red eyes. "You played the weak maid while planning to destroy my family!"

"Samson, listen to me!" I pleaded, taking a step toward him. "Mabel killed your father! She killed my little brothers too!"

"Do not speak my wife's name with your filthy mouth!" Samson screamed. He turned his furious gaze to Damian. "You are harboring a royal assassin, Alpha Damian. This means war."

Without waiting for a response, and with his heart filled with burning anger, Samson turned on his heel and stormed out of the party, his heavy boots echoing through the silent, terrified ballroom.

I stood frozen on the stage, watching his retreating back. The trap was set. Mabel had managed to turn the only man who ever respected me into my fiercest enemy.