CHAPTER ONE

Isabella's POV

Full lips brushed mine, slow at first, then deeper, hotter. His hands slid down my arms, steady with possessiveness.

My whole body trembled with something sharp and new. Heat pooled low in my belly until I thought I'd burn alive.

Moans flew out of my lips as I tugged his hair, gasping his name. "Aleric..."

SPLASH.

Ice water crashed over me, shooting me upright with a strangled cry. Nothing says

Good morning, sunshine, quite like a bucket of liquid frost and a case of mild hypothermia.

My thin nightdress clung to every inch of my malnourished frame as my breath came in ragged bursts, my pulse thundering in my ears.

It wasn't just the cold. Every nerve in my body was aching.

Aleric.

Oh, Goddess.

I pressed a shaking hand to my lips. I'd dreamed about him. Aleric Blackthorne. The Alpha's son.

My ex–best friend. My first crush. The boy who hadn't looked at me in years, except with pity. Or worse… hatred.

We used to sneak out into the woods together, pretending the pack rules didn't exist.

Fuck me. Of all the people my subconscious could have picked for a starring role, it chose the one guy who treats me like a particularly offensive smudge on his shoe.

My brain really is out to get me. "You slut."

Mother's voice cut sharper than the water. She stood with the bucket dripping in her hand, eyes sweeping over me like I was filth.

Her nostrils flared slightly, but if she smelled something… she didn't name it. Instead, her lip curled as she spat again. "You disgusting slut!"

Ah, the morning pep talk. Truly, the breakfast of champions. Despite my unbothered mind, I still moved my eyes everywhere but hers.

Did she hear me moaning his name? No, no. My body felt wrong, tingling everywhere the dream had touched me.

"I...I wasn't...." I yanked my thin blanket around me, shielding myself from her accusing eyes.

"I have no time for this. Just get up, it's four o'clock. Breakfast won't cook itself. And your father expects the our wing spotless before he returns from patrol."

She cut me off before I could defend myself. She always did.

But today I was relieved because god forbid the Alpha's Beta has to endure a single speck of dust.

"Yes, Mother." My teeth chattered from the cold, though heat still burned under my skin. What would I say if she asked why I was moaning the Alpha heir's name in my sleep.

Her gaze lingered on me—the same expression she'd worn for years—disappointment, now laced with disgust. Like I was a bad purchase she couldn't return.

Without another word, she turned and left. Her footsteps echoed down the narrow hall of the Beta quarters.

A moment later, I heard another voice—low, steady, clipped with command. My father's.

"Leave her be, Mira." A pause. Then his tone hardened. "We have duties before sunrise. Selena's waiting."

Of course, Selena was waiting. The Golden Child doesn't like to be kept standing, and Heaven forbid the universe stops revolving around her for five minutes.

I sat there dripping and shaking for reasons I didn't understand, curling a fist over my chest, trying to steady my racing heart.

But this wasn't new. Hate had been stitched into my life since the night my brother died. Every look, every slap, Selena's perfect little smirk.

We were twins, but she got the wolf, the strength, and the fan club. I got a heartbeat that survived when Ethan's didn't.

Seventeen years, and I'd learned one thing: I was never going to be loved. But hey, at least I'm consistent.

Sighing, I looked up at the cracked ceiling. What the hell was happening to me?

---

By the time I finished chores and bolted through the pack gates and into the city streets, I was already late.

The morning sun glared off high-rise windows. A food cart guy stared when I nearly tripped over his wheels.

The subway rumbled beneath the cracked sidewalk, shaking the ground as I sprinted past.

Rich kids drove their cars while I barely reached the gates before the first school bell rang.

My legs felt like jelly. My body wasn't mine anymore. It was burning, tingling, aching in all the wrong places.

Great.

First, I dream about Aleric like some desperate creep. Now I feel like I've got the flu in the weirdest places.

I didn't understand it. Was it some new sickness? Another curse the Moon Goddess thought I deserved? If this is was one idea of a joke, her sense of humor really sucks.

I shoved my books to my peanut chest, bracing for the whispers. Freak. Charity case. Cursed. The usual hits. They really need some new material.

Some still whispered about last year, when I fainted during training after a fight with that bitch Selena—my twin, the golden one. No one helped. Some even laughed.

But today… something felt different. When I slid into my seat, the human boy in front of me turned and gave a slow smile.

"Hey," he said, like I'd just grown a second set of boobs overnight.

I blinked. "Um. Hi?"

His smile widened. I haven't seen a look that hungry since the last time a stray dog found a discarded steak bone

And it didn't stop there.

Everywhere I walked, human boys glanced twice. A couple of girls too, surprisingly. Their gazes clung to me, heated and hungry.

What the hell? Did I spill perfume? Did I grow horns? I reached up to my messy white hair. Nope, still a disaster.

By second period, I was sweating, shifting in my chair every few seconds because dammit, that dream's heat hadn't faded.

My thighs pressed together. My body burned in ways I couldn't ignore. Please, Moon Goddess, I know you don't like me, but please don't let me stand up. I'd die if I leaked through my clothes.

I tried to distract myself with math. Spoiler: it didn't help.

As soon as class ended, I bolted, desperate for the nearest restroom.

That's when I passed one of the senior alphas in the hall. Big guy. Broad shoulders. Cocky smirk. Normally, he wouldn't even glance at me.

But when I ran by, his head snapped around. His nostrils flared. His eyes glowed faintly.

And then he lunged.

Not in a casual oops-I-tripped way. In a full-on, let-me-rip-your-clothes-off way.

I froze mid-step, heart in my throat, before instinct screamed: Move!

Panic shaking my limbs, I yelled as I shoved him back hard, "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

But it wasn't just him. Two more wolves down the hall caught my scent—whatever this scent was—and their wolves surged, eyes glowing, low growls rolling from their throats.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

The humans nearby blinked, confused. I was too. But it seemed every wolf knew exactly what was happening.

Hands clawed at my shirt. I fought back, gripping the fabric like my life depended on it, which it did.

Because if this blouse ripped, I was screwed. Literally.

Gasping, I fought hard to keep my dignity. "Enough!"

I barely heard Mr. Gray, our history teacher—and a wolf—storming down the hall. Fury burned in his eyes.

He shoved the alphas back with terrifying strength, nostrils flaring as he turned toward me.

His expression froze.

"You," he whispered, eyes wide in disbelief.

The hallway thickened with bodies. Wolves, humans, teachers. Too many eyes. Too many scents. The air shifted.

That's when I realized.

Every dominant alpha wolf in that hallway had their gaze locked on me.

The humans looked confused, whispering. But the wolves… their eyes glowed brighter—gold, silver, green, black—sparks burning like wildfire.

Oh. Shit.

They weren't looking at me like a freak anymore. They were looking at me like I was a five-course meal and they'd been fasting for a month.

My knees buckled. Oh, fantastic. I'm about to be the center of a supernatural riot. Just another tuesday in my miserable life.

Mr. Gray's voice cut through.

"Everyone, back...."

Too late.

The first wolf lunged. Then another. And another. Growls rolled down the corridor until it was nothing but teeth and hunger.

Mr. Gray roared, his wolf rising, shoving bodies back with brutal strength. His gaze cut to me once, fire in his eyes.

"Run!" He roared.

He didn't have to tell me twice. Heart in my throat, heat raging through my veins, legs barely keeping me upright.

I ran as every wolf in that hall howled for me.

...

CHAPTER 2

♪Isabella♪

The forest swallowed the sound as I ran—every breath a gasp, every step a prayer stitched with panic.

Branches whipped my arms, wet leaves slapped my legs, and the wind pushed against me like it was auditioning for the role of 'Antagonist hashtag 2.'

Maybe it was. Maybe everything in this cursed world had joined a group chat dedicated to making my life miserable.

I couldn't take the main road. Too open. Too many humans. Too much risk of wolves following.

Humans and wolves had blended into the same world long ago, living side by side in schools and jobs.

The humans think we're just a "weird gated community." If they only knew that behind these gates, we're basically one bad day away from a National Geographic special.

My body felt foreign—too hot, too tight. Heat pooled low between my thighs, humiliating and impossible to ignore.

"Seriously? Now?!" I whispered to my own body. "Not now. Goddess, not now…" Like my internal organs hadn't gotten the memo that we were currently fleeing for our lives.

"Moon Goddess, please," I gasped, shoving past a branch, begging was useless but come on.

"If I survive this, I'll...I don't know... stop stealing bread rolls from the kitchen? Swear it."

A miserable bribe, I know, but I'm a low-ranking outcast. I don't exactly have a dowry of gold to offer.

Not knowing why every male wolf at school went feral the moment they caught my scent sucks, I didn't even know what I smelled like.

Hopefully not like despair and cheap shampoo, though that would be the most accurate.

Suddenly, a memory slammed into me. A hand pulling mine. A smile too bright for a seven-year-old. "Izzy, it's okay. Just stay behind me."

No, no, not now. I don't have the emotional bandwidth for a traumatic flashback.

From the shadows, a laugh echoed. Someone stepped out. Raven-black hair, dark eyes, and a smile that probably cost more in dental work than I've made in my entire life.

Selena.

Clearly my day wasn't cursed enough already, the universe decided to drop the Main Character in my lap.

My dear twin sister. The perfect child. The one who got the good genes and the functional personality.

Her face was my face—same jawline, same cheekbones—but everything else? Opposites. Her deep brown eyes and dark hair were a perfect mirror of our mother.

While my ghost-white hair and golden eyes marked me as our father's child. Not that he cared, infact he never seemed proud of that.

"Well, well," she purred, arms folded as if she'd been scripted into this scene. "Look what the forest dragged in."

"Not now, Selena. I don't have time for your crap."

"Oh, the freak suddenly has a mouth," she snapped, sniffing the air, till her eyes sharpened.

I half-expected her to start judging me for my lack of perfume, but her face twisted into something much weirder.

"Move, Selena," I forced my chin up, even though my legs felt like overcooked noodles.

"Why? So you can keep running like the pathetic little slut you are?" She stepped closer, sniffing again.

Her pupils went wide, her brown eyes snapping to mine.

"No. No way. You?"

"What the hell are you on about?"

"Unbelievable. You don't even know, do you, sister?" She spat the word 'sister' like she was trying to get a hairball out of her throat.

We're twins for the record, nature's way of showing its twisted sense of humor.

"Know what?" I demanded.

"Oh, this is rich. You don't even know what's happening to your own pathetic body."

"I don't have time for your bullshit, Selena!"

"Then you'd better make time," she purred, eyes glittering. "Because if I can smell it already… others will too. And I'll be damned if I let you anywhere near the pack house—near Aleric."

My mouth went dry. So that's what this is about. Aleric. I'd done nothing to her. I don't even care about alriec, she could fucking have him.

I just have to go back to the pack house, to my room, the only safe place I know, maybe I could find something to stop this uncomfortable reaction.

"Look at you," she murmured. "Same face as mine, but somehow uglier. Same blood, but somehow weaker."

She grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at her, I pushed her hands away. "You should have died with Ethan"

My heart cracked, but I wasn't going to let her see it. "Shut up," I whispered.

"You begged him to go into that forest," she continued, "You cried until he gave in. You killed him."

"I was five."

"And?" She shrugged. "You think the pack cares? You think Dad does? You took his heir from him. All he has left is me."

I felt like she was trying to yank the world out from under me. "You should know by now I don't need much of a reason to ruin your life." She took a step forward, and the cold air wrapped around me.

I moved backward, trying to create some space between us. I acted like I'm strong but if push comes to pull, Selena would easily whoop my ass with her wolf just like last year.

I backed away until my heel crushed a twig and it snapped. On reflex I twisted toward the sound but pain flared

A metal trap bit into my ankle hard. I dropped to one knee, pain shooting up my leg like lightning.

Selena laughed. "Oh, sweetie. You run like an idiot. You fall like one too."

"Help me" I hissed at her but she barely glanced at me, her fingernails painted so perfectly they looked like they'd never touched a day of chores in their life.

"No."

"Selena!" I snapped, giving her a hard glare.

She sighed, crouching until her face was level with mine. "Where are your manners, sister?" she mocked, stifling a laugh.

"Oh—shit, I forgot," she mocked. "Our dear parents always regret having a mistake, so they couldn't teach you manners—"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence." I cut her off, fury overriding fear.

Shrugging with her venom-soft smile Selena continues, " Or what?! You know? Dad always says how much of disgrace you bring to the fa...."

Slap!

Before I could stop myself, my hand lashed out. Her perfect hair whipped to the side. For a split second, I felt great.

Truly incredible.

Then I remembered I was the one currently attached to a piece of rusted metal. "I'm going to enjoy watching you rot," she growled, her brown eyes glowing, indicating her wolf presence.

"I warned you!" I shouted back at her, the pain in my ankle fresh as the trap hooked me into place.

Selena's glowing brown eyes glared daggers at me as she straightened. "I planned to leave you here an hour," she stated.

"But it seems you want the extended treatment."

"You wouldn't dare...Dad—"

"Dad won't do shit." Her eyes glared daggers at me. Cutting through me sharply and painfully because I knew she was right.

Dad won't give two fucks about a cursed child like me. I had always been an outcast even before my wolf didn't show, the signs were there but I been ignorant.

"After all, Dad hopes I become his successor. Not a wolfless she-thing too stupid to realize she's in heat."

The word hit me like a physical blow.

Heat.

No. Can't be. I'm seventeen. Heat always comes at fifteen. When mine didn't, I figured the Moon Goddess had just unsubscribed from my life.

Broken. Wolfless. Cursed. So why now? Did my internal clock finally decide to wake up at the worst possible moment in shifters history?

Selena dusted invisible dirt off her designer clothes—clothes I usually only see from a distance, or when I'm folding them.

"I'll leave you here to think about your choices. Try not to die!" She sang the last part as she vanished.

I screamed after her as the rain pounded harder while I yanked at the trap until my skin tore.

No use. I was a literal sitting duck. Time blurred. An hour? Two? I forced my eyes shut, trying to pretend that if I couldn't see the forest, the forest couldn't see me.

Solid logic, right?

But then… a sound.

Heavy and sharp. A step pressing into the soaked earth. Closer. Faster.

If it's a wolf, I'm a snack. If it's a person, I'm a headline. Either way, I'm really starting to regret that dream about Aleric.

...

Chapter Three

♠ Lucian♠

"Prince Lucian" A soft, delicate voice whispered low.

A pair of red eyes snapped open to darkness. For a moment, he thought he was blind, until the stale air pressed heavy against his chest.

He tried to move, but his limbs felt like stone, unwilling to cooperate.

With a ragged breath, he shoved upward. The weight above shifted, and a sliver of golden light cut through the black.

Faint sconces shimmered like fire trapped behind glass. Lucian looked down—and froze.

His hands were skeletal, skin stretched thin and colorless, bones ridged with cracks. Every inch of him felt wrong, fragile, decaying.

He pushed upright, legs trembling, yet he stood.

Across the chamber, a tall mirror stood He couldn't remember it ever being there, but something pulled him closer.

His reflection stopped him cold. A thin figure stared back—more corpse than man, skin hollowed tight to sharp bones.

But the eyes—his eyes—burned red, cutting through the ruin of his body.

Lucian's gaze swept the chamber. Yes… it was his, but not as he remembered. The ceiling glowed with strange lights

Strange objects cluttered every corner—TV screens, couches, glass tables that turned on their own.

Once, he had been stronger—untouchable. Now, he felt like ash waiting to scatter.

How long had he been gone? His last memory was falling down a hill.

Soft footsteps echoed and Lucian stiffened, his red eyes snapping toward the door.

Whoever it was, they were light—too light to be another creature apart from his own but that didn't mean he left his guard down.

The door creaked open, and a young man stepped inside, hair like burning copper under the flickering bulb.

His eyes widened as he caught sight of Lucian unsteady form in the center of the room.

Silence stretched. Then awe split his face into a trembling smile.

"My lord" The man breathed, dropping down to his knees in respect at his supreme. "At last… you've awakened."

Lucian opened his mouth, but only a rasp came, raw from disuse. The sound was jagged, alien even to him. He tried again, forcing words past cracked lips.

"…Who…. are you ?"

"My name is Marcus Salvatore. Third of my line to keep watch here, my lord."

Lucian's lips parted "…Salvatore?" He remembers the name, how could he not, when it was one of his best of men.

Marcus lifted his gaze. His face was sharp, unlined, a youth that should have belonged to a man in his thirties

Yet his eyes carried decades—fifty years. But in the vampire world, still a mere child.

"My family swore to your bloodline long ago. My grandfather—"

"I know him." Lucian cut in. He didn't need family history—his throat was parched, raw for liquid. Not the usual kind.

"I am thirsty," he rasped.

Marcus gave the faintest smile, as though he'd been expecting those words. "Then it's good I prepared. You've been restless these past nights—growling in your sleep. I knew the time was close."

He bowed slightly, stepping back. "Come with me, my lord. What you need is waiting."

Marcus guided him down the hall, footsteps echoing off polished stone that no longer felt like the castle he knew.

Everything hummed faintly, glowing with strange cold lights embedded in the ceiling— artificial things that weren't fire, weren't flame.

What sorcery…? Lucian's crimson eyes narrowed, glowing through the corridor.

Marcus caught his curious glance, smiling faintly. "The world has changed much while you slept, my lord. More than words can capture."

Lucian's gaze snapped to Marcus. "How long?" His voice frayed with hunger and disbelief.

Marcus bowed his head, hesitating as though the answer might provoke wrath. "If I am not mistaken… twelve centuries. Twelve hundred years, my prince."

The number pressed into Lucian. His lips parted, but no words came.

Twelve centuries? Wars, kingdoms, bloodlines, would be ashes now, long turned to dust.

Even the moon had watched a thousand generations die while he rotted in darkness.

He finally rasped, "The world I knew… gone?."

Marcus inclined his head respectfully. "Yes, my lord. Human empires have risen and fallen. Their cities climb higher now, built of steel and glass. They live by lights that never burn out, carriages without horses."

He glanced up at his supreme. "It is an age of wonders… and of laws."

Lucian's fangs ached, thirst drowning out the details.

Marcus placed a hand on the door before them—the one leading to the basement. Damp air rushed in as Lucian inhaled sharply, fangs lengthening against his lips.

But when his gaze fell on the creature tethered in the center, his body stiffened.

A deer.

Tall, antlers branching like a mockery of a crown, its sides heaving in panic. Its wide eyes filled with terror.

Lucian's head snapped to Marcus, disbelief burning into fury.

"WHERE. IS. MY. MEAL?" Lucian growled at Marcus who smiled faintly, almost eager, as if this were some honor.

"Here, my lord. Strong, healthy and fresh from the forest." The deer stumbled against its restraints.

Lucian moved before Marcus could blink, a blur slamming the younger vampire into the wall.

His hand wrapped on Marcus's throat, pinning him with terrifying ease despite his weakened state.

"You dare mock me?" Lucian's eyes burned like open fire, his voice a low thunder. "You bring me animal's blood? Have I fallen so low that carrion is all I'm given?" Marcus choked, gripping Lucian's wrist in panic.

What had he done to deserve such harshness?

His voice broke. "Forgive me—please—! My lord, it is not mockery! The council forbids human blood now. It is law. You'll draw their wrath if—if you drink—"

The grip tightened, the young vampire's feet scraping helplessly against the wall.

Lucian leaned in, fangs bared inches from Marcus's face. "Law? Council?" He spat the words like poison. "I bow to no council." His fangs lengthened as he spat.

"And I do not drink from animals." Lucian grip shifted, fingers digging harder into Marcus's throat. "Perhaps I should drink from you instead."

"My lord… please…" Marcus's breath hitched. His hands clawed at Lucian's wrist, fear flickering in his gaze.

"If you take me, who will guide you? Who will show you this new world?"

For a long, deadly moment, Lucian said nothing. Hunger screamed for blood—but another instinct curled in his mind.

Marcus was right. Without him, Lucian would be blind in this new age, stumbling among strange laws and creating enemies which he wouldn't mind.

With a hiss, Lucian released him and Marcus collapsed against the wall, clutching his throat, gasping for breath.

"Do not mistake this for mercy. You still draw breath only because you are… useful."

Marcus swallowed hard, nodding quickly, his copper hair damp with sweat. "Y-yes, my lord."

Lucian's dark hair fell like a curtain across his face as he turned away, his burning gaze toward the deer, lip curling in disgust. "Fetch me clothes.I will hunt my own meal."

Marcus's eyes widened, "But the council—"

Lucian's head snapped back toward him, and the younger vampire fell silent at once under that crimson stare.

"I said," Lucian repeated, each word like the strike of a blade, "I will hunt my own meal." Marcus scrambled to his feet, still rubbing the bruises healing at his throat.

Before Lucian could blink, Marcus vanished. Lucian narrowed his eyes, tracking the faint retreat. "Fast… but unrefined." he muttered, almost disappointed.

Moments later, the door slammed open as Marcus returned with garments.

Dark trousers, a black shirt, and a long coat with a high collar. "My lord," he said, slightly breathless, "these are the finest of the era. They will conceal you."

Lucian plucked the coat, letting the fabric spill down. "This? So light. A gust of wind could tear it apart."

Marcus bowed unable to say anything in fear not to trigger anger.

Lucian dressed without ceremony, shrugging into the shirt as they loose freely against his wasted frame.

When he pulled the coat across his shoulders, his mane of long black hair cascaded over the collar, framing his gaunt face and crimson eyes.

He turned toward the mirror. The creature of rot was still there, but cloaked in black, with his long hair loose and untamed, he resembled not a corpse—but a revenant prince risen from a grave of centuries.

A rasping laugh stirred from his chest.

"Hmph. Not the armor of kings… but it will suffice to strike fear."

------

After dressing, they both walk towards the great doors that loomed before Lucian, tall and heavy with iron bands.

He expected Marcus to push them open, as was custom—yet before the man could touch them, they shuddered and swung wide on its own.

Lucian froze. No hand. No wind. No spell. Just… like that?

He stepped out slowly. For the first time in twelve centuries, he tasted night air again.

It struck sharp, laced with scents he did not recognize. The mansion's exterior rose above him, familiar stone towers dressed in glass and steel.

Majestic, yes… but modern.

His black hair spilled over his shoulders as he tilted his head back and sneered. "A palace made for men who have forgotten what kings look like."

Marcus hovered behind him, silent as a shadow.

At the edge of the drive crouched a sleek, low creature of metal. Lucian narrowed his eyes. "What in the hell is that?"

Marcus's lips twitched. "A car, my lord. A first-edition Lamborghini. She's yours."

Lucian scoffed. "Lamborghini?" He circled it, fingers grazing cold glass and rubber wheels. "It sounds like a dog's name."

Marcus allowed himself a faint smile. "She will carry you faster than any horse."

"Faster than a horse?"

In a blur, stone cracked under Lucian's boots as the world bent to his speed. In less than a heartbeat, he stood at the far end of the courtyard, hair whipping in the wind.

He looked back at Marcus, still standing beside the silent beast.

Lucian's lips curved into a smirk as he shouted. "Tell me, Marcus… do these machines bleed when they die?"