CHAPTER 170
The moon had reached its zenith, casting an ethereal glow through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the master suite.
The air in the room was thick with the scent of jasmine and the cool, lingering musk of the night.
Isabella lay cocooned in the silk sheets, her head resting against the firm expanse of Lucian's chest.
The confession had taken hours—a slow, agonizing unraveling of a past she had tried to bury beneath the wind in the North.
She had laid it all bare: the crushing weight of being the "lesser" half of a set of twins, and the haunting shadow of her brother, Ethan.
Lucian hadn't interrupt. His hand was steady and grounding on her shoulder, his fingers tracing small, soothing patterns against her skin.
He listened as she described Selena—the vibrant "Queen B" of the pack who had flourished in the light while Isabella withered in the dark.
