Chapter 2

Isla’s POV

Morning sunlight spilled through the bedroom windows, revealing the melted candles I had prepared for our anniversary.

The bouquet of white roses had begun to wilt, their petals scattered across the floor like forgotten promises.

The untouched gift box still sat by the window. I traced the ribbon with trembling fingers, knowing inside was the key to the sports car I'd spent an entire year sacrificing for.

A bitter smile crossed my lips as I realized it had never even been opened.

"...Happy anniversary."

The room answered with silence as I turned to the untouched side of the bed. Damon had never come home, not after forgetting our anniversary, announcing Rowena as his Second Luna.

He never asked why I arrived covered in blood and mud, never asked if I was hurt, and never even knew I'd been kidnapped and buried alive.

I closed my eyes, but Rowena's conversation with the rogue echoed in my mind.

They hadn't just wanted me dead; they had buried me alive to make me suffer, all because I was Alpha Alaric Nightfang's daughter, the true heir to the kingdom the Blackthorns now ruled.

Had marrying Damon been the greatest mistake of my life? Once, the thought of being his wife made my heart race. Now, for the first time, I questioned everything.

Perhaps he had stayed to comfort Rowena. Maybe today he'd come home and explain, though after five years of loving Damon, hope had become a habit I couldn't break.

I wiped away my tears and headed downstairs. No matter what happened, I still need to act normal. They can’t know that I knew everything… For now.

The palace kitchen buzzed with activity, but as I walked in, every servant lowered their head, avoiding my eyes.

I forced a smile.

"I'll prepare Alpha Damon's breakfast."

Silence filled the kitchen as the servants exchanged uneasy glances before a familiar voice sliced through the room.

"Still pretending to be a devoted wife?"

I froze.

My mother-in-law, Meredith Blackthorn, swept into the kitchen in an elegant emerald gown. One of the wolves who had ordered my death. Only now did I realize how different she was from the woman I remembered, the one who used to call me sweet child and braid my hair when she was still my father, Alpha Alaric Nightfang's beta's wife.

Now, she looked like a queen wearing a stolen crown.

Harold Blackthorn followed beside her, his face unreadable. Too far from the face of the loyal Beta who served my father long ago.

I lowered my head respectfully.

"Good morning, Mother. Father."

Meredith's gaze swept over my bruises, but instead of concern, she scoffed.

"So. You survived."

My chest tightened as I realized she wasn't asking if I was hurt or who had attacked me; she was only disappointed that I was still standing.

I almost laughed at the thought. Why would the woman who ordered my death ask if I was okay?

Harold folded his arms.

"They said you had a close call to death last night," he said with a laugh.

A chill ran down my spine. For a second, I wondered if he knew the truth... or if he had been part of it all along.

No.

I told myself I was overthinking until Meredith crossed her arms and said.

"Do you know where Damon spent the night? He never came home. He stayed with Rowena."

A satisfied smile spread across her face. "It was only proper. She's carrying the future heir of House Blackthorn."

Each word twisted deeper into my chest, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep the tears from falling.

Meredith stepped closer.

"So what if Damon spent the night with her? At least..." She paused and smiled, then spoke again.

"She isn't barren."

The word echoed through my mind.

Barren.

For five years, I blamed myself for never giving Damon a child, enduring endless remedies and heartbreak, yet no matter what I did... I could never conceive.

Harold looked at me with undisguised contempt.

"If you had done your duty and given Damon an heir… , he would never have needed another Luna."

I lowered my gaze.

"...I'm sorry."

Those words came so naturally now that I barely noticed I'd spoken them. So naturally, it now lost its meaning.

Back then, I truly meant those apologies, blaming and pitying myself, but now the words felt empty; I was only sorry for my wolf, who had to shrink herself so I could become the Luna they wanted.

Meredith clicked her tongue.

"Sorry doesn't continue the Blackthorn bloodline."

She pointed toward the stove.

"If you're so determined to play the perfect wife, then make yourself useful."

For the first time that morning, relief flickered through my chest. I tied on an apron and quietly prepared Damon's favorite breakfast from memory: a mushroom omelet, roasted potatoes, fresh bread, and honey tea, exactly the way he liked it.

When everything was ready, I carefully arranged the dishes onto a polished silver tray. Cradling it against my hands, I turned toward my mother-in-law.

"Should I take it to his office?"

Meredith laughed. The sound was filled with mockery.

"Oh, Isla. You truly know nothing."

She smiled with cruel satisfaction.

"Take it to Rowena's royal suite. Damon is still there."

The tray suddenly felt twice as heavy as I walked toward the guest wing; each step weighed down not by my bruises, but by the ache in my heart.

"Just endure a little longer... everything will be okay," I whispered, though the words were no longer for me, but for my wolf, whose growing anger and hatred I could feel as I slowly went numb.