ISLA'S POV
The room spins.
Elder Mira's words—Moonborn, royal bloodline, bound at birth—crash through my mind like a tsunami. My hand instinctively moves to my stomach, protecting the baby as if these revelations are physical threats.
"That's not possible," I say, shaking my head. "My mother died giving birth to me. My father always said I was just... normal. Wolfless."
"Your father didn't know," Mira says gently, and her ancient eyes carry something that looks almost like pity. "The binding was done before you were even aware enough to remember it. Someone wanted your bloodline hidden badly enough to curse you."
"Who?" I demand. "Who would do that?"
Mira exchanges a look with Cassian, and I catch something passing between them—a question with an answer they're both afraid of.
"We don't know," Cassian says, his voice tight. Controlled. But I can hear the rage underneath it. "That's what we need to discover."
