The Sovereign's voice rolled across the hall like thunder breaking over a mountain.
"Two days from now," Isabella's grandmother declared, her silver hair glowing under the torches, "the most powerful and heavenly reunion shall take place. Crimson blood shall rise again, and Crescent blood shall stand beside it. Destiny itself shall kneel."
The hall fell silent, breaths locked, hearts suspended. Everyone bowed their heads in reverence.
Everyone, except Theodore.
The Crescent Alpha leaned back, his jaw tightening, a sly grin curling over his lips.
Most powerful and heavenly reunion? he mused with scorn. Ah yes, the grand theatre of destiny. Will there be music too? Perhaps drums and dancers to honor this… family get-together of bloodlines?
He chuckled to himself, so soft only the throne could hear it. His golden eyes flicked toward Isabella. She caught the trace of mockery in them, and though her face stayed calm, her heart stirred with unease. For one fleeting moment, their gaze tangled—her defiance against his mockery—before both turned away, retreating to their chambers.
And then—he vanished.
Two days passed, and not once was the Crescent Alpha seen within the Sovereign walls. Whispers spread like wildfire—had he left? Was he scheming? Was he broken?
But truth was darker.
Theodore had gone into the woods, alone. The Crescent Alpha's fury needed blood and silence. The forest trembled beneath his roars, trees splintered beneath his claws, rivers shuddered as he drove his strength against the earth. Every strike, every growl, every broken trunk was not just anger—it was agony tearing through his chest.
There, in the wilderness, he spoke only to himself.
"To them, I am their salvation. To me, they are nothing but chains." His voice cracked, yet the grin never left his face. "Two days for a heavenly reunion? Hah! I'll show them hell first."
And yet, as much as he spat venom, his mind never stopped circling back—back to Isabella. Her stare haunted him, burning through his arrogance like a wound he could not heal. He hated it. He hated her. He hated himself for hating her.
The forest carried his madness. The moon heard his confession. His smile remained, but it was carved from pain, not pride.
And when he returned… no one would recognize the Alpha that left.