Chasing the rejected Luna

3.

Isabella took a slow, deliberate breath, steadying the sudden flutter in her chest before taking two steps forward and pushing the heavy curtain aside.

The moment she stepped into the sitting area, her breath hitched in her throat.

Up close, Crown Prince Rodrigo was towering. He possessed an undeniable, jaw-dropping attractiveness, sharp cheekbones, broad shoulders that filled the room, and a dark, domineering presence that seemed to warp the very air around him. But beneath her initial shock, Isabella caught the faint, unmistakable flicker of arrogance lingering in his posture.

He looked down at her, his piercing eyes narrowing slightly as he took her in. For a split second, a flash of fleeting confusion crossed his dark features. He expected her to cower. He expected her to drop to her knees like every other commoner in the realm under the crushing weight of his royal presence.

Not being one to hold her tongue, Isabella raised an eyebrow and met his gaze head-on. "I'm a dud," she blurted out smoothly, breaking the silence. "That's why."

Rodrigo’s features shifted instantly, a subtle rearrangement of his expression as realization dawned on him. He didn't say a word, merely continuing to observe her with an unreadable, calculating look.

Isabella crossed her arms over her chest, letting out a dry scoff. "Are you judging me now?"

"Isabella!" Santiago snapped immediately, his aging face flushing with panic as he stepped between them. "Watch your tongue! You are speaking to the Crown Prince of the Northern Realms. Show some respect!"

Santiago turned quickly toward Rodrigo, offering a bow of deep apology. "Forgive her, Your Highness. She is a dud, a special one. She lacks all wolf features and spiritual senses, which is why she cannot feel your aura or react like others."

Rodrigo’s lips twitched slightly, a subtle glint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes. "She certainly has a smart mouth."

Isabella rolled her eyes, turning a sharp look toward her father and the prince. "Could you both please stop talking about my life like I'm not standing right here?"

She detested the Crown Prince in that exact instant. He was every bit the stuck-up, high-born royal she had always imagined, a man who clearly believed the entire world revolved around him simply because he wore velvet and held power, regardless of how handsome he was.

Ignoring her sharp tone, Rodrigo looked between Santiago and Isabella, his voice remaining smooth and composed. "You both should come visit the palace sometime. My family would be glad to host you, Santiago."

"I'm not interested," Isabella replied flatly, without a moment's hesitation.

"Isabella, please!" Santiago gasped, mortified by her utter lack of court manners as he bowed again. "Your Highness, I apologize deeply for her behavior—"

"It is quite alright, Santiago," Rodrigo interrupted smoothly. Rather than taking offense, his eyes lingered on Isabella, a quiet, deep intrigue burning behind his gaze as he studied the girl who dared to reject a royal invitation to his face.

With a final nod to Santiago, Prince Rodrigo turned and stepped out of the cottage, his royal guard trailing behind him as the heavy oak door clicked shut.

The second the door closed, Santiago turned on his heel, his brow furrowed in frustration. "What on earth was that, Isabella? Were you trying to get us both executed? You do not speak to the future Alpha King in such a manner!"

"I cannot handle judgmental people!" Isabella snapped back, her voice rising as the emotional weight of the encounter finally cracked her calm exterior. "It isn't easy being looked at like a broken object! It isn't easy being a dud in a world that hates us!"

Santiago’s scowl softened instantly.

Seeing the raw, quiet pain in his daughter's eyes, his heart melted. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her in a warm, protective embrace, letting her catch her breath in the quiet safety of his chest.

"You matter, Isabella," Santiago whispered gently, stroking her hair. "Never let anyone make you feel otherwise."

Pulling away with a small, appreciative nod to her father, Isabella turned and walked back into her bedroom, letting the curtain fall shut behind her.

The moment she stepped inside, Annie sprang off the bed, her eyes wide as saucepans. Isabella didn't wait, she immediately recounted every single detail of what had just transpired in the sitting room.

Annie listened attentively, her jaw repeatedly dropping; she had never seen Isabella so worked up over anyone calling her a dud before.

Bound by their tight friendship, the two girls spent the next ten minutes passionately calling the Crown Prince every arrogant, stuck-up name they could think of.

Noticing how exhausted and heated Isabella was getting, Annie gently steered the conversation away from the royal family. Isabella caught the subtle shift and gladly allowed her friend to change the subject.

Annie leaned back against the wall, taking a deep breath as a softer smile returned to her face. "So... let's talk about something else."

They stayed like that for a while, gossiping lazily about the last Full Moon festival. They laughed over the ridiculous, over-the-top silk dresses the high-tier court females had dragged through the dirt, and cheered about little Dora, Annie’s eight-year-old younger sister who had finally managed her very first shift into a small, fluffy gray pup during the midnight run.

"Isabella!"

Her father's raspy, heavy voice called out from the hallway, followed by the clatter of glass vials being packed into a leather satchel.

Isabella sat up on the bed as Santiago poked his graying head into the room, his cloak already draped over his thin shoulders. "I'm heading out," he said, wiping his stained hands on a rag. "A border patrol brought word of a skirmish near the river. I have to treat some war victims at the Mainstream pack house. I won't be back until dawn."

"Tonight?" Isabella frowned slightly. "The roads are still tight after the royal inspection, Papa."

"Which is why I'm leaving now before they lock the gates entirely," Santiago said.

He looked at Annie, his expression softening. "Annie, stay put and eat something first. Wait a while before you set out for home to be sure the Alpha and his guards are entirely done clearing the thoroughfare."

"Thank you, Mr. Santiago," Annie said gratefully.

"There's dinner on the stove, stewed mutton," Santiago added, pointing a gnarled finger at Isabella. "Do not burn it."

Before Isabella could offer a sarcastic reply, the front door opened and shut, leaving the cabin quiet once more.

Annie giggled again, leaning her head back against the bed frame as she looked up at Isabella.

"Does your father have any idea you have a thing with and was having a session with Marcus right before the horns blew?"

Isabella snorted, tossing a small wooden button at her friend's head. "If my father discovered I was getting bent over behind the garrison hut by a border guard, he’d have my head on a pike before I even got the chance to explain myself."

She paused, leaning back against the wall with a dry chuckle. "And for the record, I don't have a thing for Marcus. I'm not falling in love; I was simply enjoying his very fat, very effective dick."

Annie choked on her own spit, dying of laughter as she covered her face.

"You're terrible, Isabella! Truly terrible!"

"I'm practical," Isabella corrected

smoothly.

As the laughter died down, Annie’s expression grew a little more thoughtful, her eyes drifting back toward the shuttered window.

"Speaking of Prince Rodrigo... you know people say he hasn't actually found his true mate yet?"

Isabella tilted her head.

"Really? I thought the royal bloodlines had their fated mates practically pre-ordered by the Moon Goddess."

"They've searched almost all the northern packs for her," Annie whispered, leaning in as if sharing state secrets. "Tracked every high-born female, checked every lineage. Nothing. People are saying his true mate might be dead, or maybe living as a rogue in the wild territories."

Annie shook her head, a faint touch of envy in her voice.

"But it doesn't even matter anyway. He already has a betrothed, Lady Sienna. She’s an arch-spoiled Omega from the highest court, and they’re set to marry on his Coronation Day when he officially becomes Alpha King."

Isabella leaned her head back against the rough wood wall, staring up at the ceiling rafters.

A spoiled Omega, a grand coronation, and a missing mate.

It sounded like the same tired, gilded fairy tale every royal pack spun to keep the commoners enchanted. But as Isabella closed her eyes, the image of Rodrigo’s icy, dark gaze flashed through her mind once more, cold, dominant, and searching.

He didn't look like a man waiting for a sweet court Omega. He looked like a predator hunting for something he hadn't yet found.

"Well," Isabella murmured, a sharp, dangerous smile playing on her lips in the quiet room. "Good luck to Lady Sienna."