A blade found its mark when she struck. His sibling fell silent beneath the sand. Victory came at a price written in blood. That evening, she bore the mark of his bite. The moment stayed sharp between them. Born into chains for the Silver Fangs, Isabella carried no name - just teeth and silence. When the sun crossed her twentieth year, she slid a blade between the ribs of the Alpha’s youngest brother… and let laughter rise. Out of nowhere, a scream cuts through the forest - then silence. The pack moves like shadows, but one figure stands apart. Not because he shouts, not because he shows rage. Because when others step back, he steps forward without blinking. Blood stains the snow near his younger brother’s body. A girl kneels there, trembling, guilty or innocent - he doesn’t care. No trial. No vote. Just teeth breaking skin where no Alpha has dared before. Marking isn’t supposed to happen like this. It should be earned, chosen, respected. Instead, it happens fast, brutal, under moonlight that sees too much. He grabs her arm hard enough to leave bruises. She fights. She loses. The tree line swallows them both. Now she walks behind him, not beside. Not mate. Not ally. Something else entirely. And the world learns today: fear wears fur - and its name is already known. He wants revenge. She wants his throat. Funny how the Moon Goddess plays her tricks - turns out the beast wearing her skin could be the one she was always meant for. A growl rips through the silence when they collide - again. Fury burns behind every glance, each touch a spark waiting to explode. Bodies crash together not out of love but something sharper, hungrier. Teeth mark skin without asking. Trust does not exist here;