Howl at the Heart's Edge

Chapter 4

Public Humiliation.

As Isabella got closer to the meeting grounds, the sun was low in the morning sky, creating deep shadows across the clearing. Sharp and merciless, the weight of Lorenzo's comments from the night before still held her. The pain in her chest would not go away, and each stride felt heavier than the one before it. She hoped to blend in by keeping her head down, but every second that went by made the knot in her gut tighten.

Isabella's turmoil was a stark contrast to the mingling wolves that were dispersed across the grounds, their laughter and casual banter. Her pendant twitched in her fingers as she looked around the crowd. Her heart leaped at every rustle and movement, anticipating the appearance of his towering, commanding figure at any second. After the way he had spoken to her, she wasn't prepared to see him. Her eyes, however, deceived her and searched for him against her will in spite of her fear.

Then she sensed it, a slight change in the atmosphere that seemed to signal his arrival before she even saw him. Her eyes darted to the far end of the group as she froze. He was standing among his pack, his face unreadable and icy. DeVargas, Lorenzo. Despite her fury bubbling beneath the surface, there was still an unmistakable attraction between them.

Isabella's breath caught as she wrenched her eyes away. Desperate to put some distance between them, she walked toward the clearing's edge. However, she was unable to shake the sensation of being bound to him, no matter how far she walked. Like a thunder cloud about to burst, his presence loomed, filling the room.

Her nails were sinking into the bark as she leaned against a tree. "Why?" she said in a tremulous murmur. Why had fate paired her with someone who obviously didn't want to be around her?

Around the dais, where the pack leaders stood getting ready to speak to the assembly, the audience formed a loose semicircle. Isabella stayed close to the rear in an attempt to blend in. However, Alessandra Luporini's piercing voice sliced like a razor through the commotion.

Alessandra started off by saying, "What a lovely day for celebration," in a sweet, saccharine tone that made Isabella shudder. Lorenzo's fiancée grinned slyly at the assembled wolves, her scarlet gown gleaming in the sunlight. "Seeing everyone in their proper places is always refreshing."

As Alessandra's eyes traveled over the throng, briefly focusing on Isabella before continuing on, she felt her stomach turn. The words were purposeful and sharp. She and the others understood Alessandra's meaning well. Isabella's already strained nerves were pricked by the quiet chuckling of a few wolves.

But it's a shame," Alessandra added, her smile growing. "Some people don't realize how important it is to stay in their lane. Seeing certain people attempt to go beyond their place is incredibly tireing.

Isabella's hands clenched into fists at her sides as her breath caught. She didn't need to be named by Alessandra. The message was quite obvious. The heat of humiliation crawled up her neck as she stared at the ground and forced herself to stay composed.

Standing a few steps away, Enrico shuffled uneasily, his keen eyes darting to Alessandra. He started to say something, but Isabella quietly shook her head. She refused to let Alessandra experience the joy of witnessing her break.

The mood became tense as the whispers of the crowd became louder. Alessandra moved back, her veiled insult delivered, and her smile was triumphant. Isabella's silent resolve hardened as she bit her lip and tasted blood. She would not break down here.

The throng was silenced by Antonio Mannari's powerful presence as he stood in the middle of the dais. His strong voice echoed through the area as he continued, "This ceremony is a reminder of our commitment to strength and unity." "And needless distractions must not splinter that unity."

Joining his father, Lorenzo took a step forward, his big shoulders rigid. After a quick glance around the throng, his golden eyes settled into a neutral, almost aloof expression. As he started talking, Isabella's chest constricted.

Lorenzo stated, "My father is right," in a firm but cold voice. Wolves thrive on purpose and discipline. Disruptions that jeopardize our pack's stability are not tolerated.

Isabella was struck hard by the words, which had the same obvious meaning as Alessandra's previous comments. Although he didn't have to, he didn't mention her name. All the wolves in the clearing were able to decipher the meaning. The embarrassment grew more intense by the moment, and her heart constricted terribly.

She felt the weight of the crowd's collective judgment as they mumbled in agreement. With a smug smirk, Alessandra stood aside and looked at Isabella, her eyes shining with victory.

For a split second, Lorenzo's eyes shifted to Isabella. His stern façade wavered for a moment as their eyes locked. She could see it—hesitancy, sorrow, something that went against his icy words. However, it vanished as swiftly as it appeared, to be replaced by his unwavering façade.

Isabella didn't wince or turn away. Despite the crushing weight of his rejection, her quiet rage burned hot and unabated. As he turned back to face the throng, Lorenzo's jaw tensed, but the harm was already done.

Isabella watched the wolves mix as she stood at the outside of the group, her arms folded tightly across her breast. Even though the humiliation still stung and her stomach churned, she resisted expressing her feelings. She refused to provide them with the gratification.

Enrico's voice broke through the mutter of the crowd, "Isabella." She turned to see him coming, his normally humorous face now tinged with anxiety. His broad shoulders were stiff, and his keen eyes darted to her and then to the dais. "We must leave."

With a tone more forceful than she felt, she declared, "I'm not leaving." Daring him to dispute, she looked him in the eye.

Enrico ran a hand through his dark hair and sighed. "Lorenzo mentioned something that you heard. You are no longer safe in this situation. You know that Alessandra is just getting started.

Isabella said, "I know," in a softer tone. She clenched her fingers around the jewelry that was concealed under her top. But they win if I go now. She prevails. And I will not permit that to occur.

Enrico scowled; his annoyance was clear, but his eyes also held admiration. You don't need to convince them of anything, Isa. They aren't worthwhile.

She made a small line with her lips. "They are not the focus. It concerns me. I've been put down and told I'm not good enough my entire life. I'll be proving them correct if I go now.

Enrico swore beneath his breath and shook his head. "You're too obstinate to help yourself."

She smiled slightly as she responded, "Maybe," but her eyes showed the tempest that was building inside of her. I'm not weak, though. I'm not running, either.

The throng moved as Alessandra reappeared, her eyes sweeping the room with a gloating sense of victory. Isabella steeled herself and straightened. Isabella would confront Alessandra directly if she desired a fight.

As Alessandra positioned herself close to the dais, her scarlet dress glistening in the last of the sunlight, the crowd became silent. She looked around the group, her smile piercing and predatory. Her eyes stayed on Isabella, and the tension in the air increased as it did.

The first thing Alessandra said was, "Well," her voice pleasant and clear but with a distinct sting. "Seeing how some people manage to attract attention to themselves in all the wrong ways is always fascinating."

Isabella's heart was racing, but she wouldn't take her eyes off the screen. Isabella's pride prevented her from acknowledging that Alessandra's jabs were effective. In silent defiance, she squared her shoulders and looked directly into the other woman's eyes.

For a brief moment, Alessandra's smile wavered before she took a step forward. With an air of false earnestness, she remarked, "You must have a talent for it." "To be so... inconsequential and yet stand out."

A few people in the audience laughed, but their voices were quiet and unsure. Isabella stayed grounded despite feeling the weight of their scrutiny and condemnation. She would not break down—not now, not here.

"Alessandra, is there anything you want to say?" Despite the internal tempest, Isabella asked in a firm voice.

Alessandra's lips formed a tight smile as her eyes contracted. "Well, I believe I've said enough."

The globe appeared to hold its breath for a moment. Isabella's quiet refusal, which even unnerved Alessandra, was strength rather than submission. Alessandra's victory seemed unfinished as the smug certainty in her eyes wavered.

Isabella allowed herself a tiny, sour smile as the throng started to move uncomfortably. She made her point without speaking. It was sufficient that she was remained upright.

Her heart ached on the inside from anger and betrayal. Her eyes darted to Lorenzo, who stood impassively on the dais, and she silently vowed to herself. This was something she would never forgive him for.