Chapter 8
Snow let out a soft, derisive chuckle.
“Alpha Daniel, why on earth are you still dwelling on this? She’s long gone”
“Shut your mouth, Snow! Her child is still a part of this pack, and she would never abandon it. Where could she possibly have disappeared to?”
Snow arched an eyebrow, her lips curling into a cruel, triumphant smile that sent a shiver down the spine.
“Alpha Daniel, have you been living under a rock? The child was stillborn. A sad, pathetic end to a fruitless pregnancy,” she announced, her tone dripping with false pity, though her eyes sparkled with a malicious glee.
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Alpha Daniel felt as if a bolt of lightning had struck him directly in the chest.
He staggered backward. “That’s a lie! I was right next door. I heard the child’s cries, loud and clear. I know what I heard,”
“You can ask Sara, she held the mourning ritual in person.”
With a thunderbolt step, he rushed to Sara’s palace.
Alpha Daniel’s mother regarded him with a mix of astonishment and deep–seated
concern.
Her eyes, filled with a mother’s love and disappointment, bore into him like daggers. “If you were so close, why, in the name of the moon goddess, didn’t you rush to see your
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own child? What could have possibly been more important?”
Alpha Daniel’s face drained of all color, turning as pale as a ghost.
His mind was catapulted back to that fateful day.
Sherry had pressed a strange, fragrant drink into his hand.
The moment it touched his lips, a fog had descended upon his mind.
He’d felt dazed, as if his body was no longer his own.
And then, in a wild, uncontrollable frenzy, he’d been drawn to Sherry, their bodies entwined in a passionate, primal dance.
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All the while, Isabelle’s agonized cries had echoed through the thin walls, a heart- rending symphony of pain.
But he’d been trapped in a lust – filled trance, a puppet dancing to Sherry’s tune, unable to break free.
When he finally emerged from the haze, Isabelle was gone, and the child was nowhere to be found.
Alpha Daniel had been so consumed by his anger and pride.
He’d assumed, without a second thought, that Isabelle had rushed to the palace with the child, seeking to gain favor and perhaps to expose Sherry’s treachery.
Sherry, with her honey–coated tongue, had only added fuel to the fire.
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“I never imagined Sister would be so eager. Barely had she given birth, and she was already racing to the palace with the child, vying for the exalted position of the heir’s mother. So desperate, she’d sneered, her words planting the seeds of doubt and fury in Alpha Daniel’s mind.
Blinded by rage, he’d stormed into the palace like a rampaging bull, humiliating Isabelle in front of all.
“I do not know what madness possessed you that day, but when Isabelle arrived at the palace, she was carrying the cold, lifeless body of your child. ”
she revealed, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Alpha Daniel’s knees buckled, and he nearly
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crashed to the ground.
He looked at his mother with eyes wide with horror and disbelief.
“And Isabelle…? What became of her?”
“She was utterly heartbroken. Her contract with me had just come to an end, and seeing her pain, I could not bear to keep her here. So, I let her go”
Alpha Daniel’s mother explained, rubbing her temples wearily.
She then gestured to a servant, who rushed forward with a scroll in hand.
“This is what she begged for, even as the life – blood drained from her body. She had herself carried, in excruciating pain, all the way to the palace to plead with me. She
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wanted nothing more than to be free of this torment,”
“Alpha Daniel, these past few years, you have been more than cruel to her.”
In elegant script, clearly stated that Isabelle was no longer his Luna.
On a nearby tray lay a small, exquisitely woven piece of fabric.
It was a token of love, a gift Isabelle had painstakingly crafted for him when they first married.
Back then, Isabelle had been so in love, so eager to please.
She had endured countless hours of pain and humiliation, learning the intricate and often – harsh palace etiquette.
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She had spent nights poring over ancient tomes, her eyes red – rimmed from
exhaustion, trying to master the complex rules of courtly behavior.
She had been scolded and berated by the strict palace tutors, but she had never given
- up.
