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How a Low Omega Becomes a Royal Princess Novel Cover

How a Low Omega Becomes a Royal Princess

After sacrificing her royal ice bloodline inheritance for Alpha Gabriel of the Ironclaw Pack, a devastated werewolf loses everything. Not only does Gabriel secretly engage another woman, but he ignores her desperate mind-link pleas as she miscarries their unborn child. Fleeing the pack in heartbreak, she seeks healing and unexpectedly discovers her true fated mate. Yet, instead of salvation, this new bond plunges her into a second, devastating storm of rejection and betrayal.
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Chapter 2

ISABELLE'S POV

Shadows danced on the walls of my room as I sat by the frosted window, clutching the faintly glowing crescent pendant my mother had given me before I left the palace. The soft, rhythmic pulse of light against my palm was the only thing keeping me grounded, a comforting reminder of the Moon Goddess’s presence and the divine bloodline I carried in my veins.

How foolish I’d been to think love was enough. I had fought to stay in the Ironclaw Pack, begged my family to let me stay with Gabriel. "I love him," I had pleaded, desperation lacing every word. "Please, let me stay. I’ll be safe. I swear!"

Logan, my second elder brother, had been the fiercest in his opposition. His eyes burned with a fury I had rarely seen. “They’ll never protect you like we can, Isabelle! You’re the ice princess, for the Moon’s sake. Do you think they even understand what you are? What’s at stake?”

But I hadn’t listened. I chose to believe in Gabriel, to trust the man who had saved me once—three years ago, when a rebel organization kidnapped me. I still remembered the way he fought for me, the way he pulled me back from the brink of death. That day, I thought he was my destiny. My knight in shining armor.

Now, I could barely recognize him. The man I once adored was gone, replaced by someone cold and unrecognizable. The truth was undeniable: Gabriel wasn’t my protector. He was my downfall.

The morning light brought no solace, only a fever that clung to me like a cruel reminder of my frailty. Every step I took to the pack hospital felt like a mountain to climb. My body betrayed me again, refusing to let me forget the agony of my loss.

The healer, a kind woman with silver streaks in her hair, examined me with gentle hands and a pitying gaze. “Your body is still reacting to the loss,” she said softly. “You need to rest, child. You’re still recovering.”

I nodded, though her words barely registered. Rest. As if rest could heal the void inside me. The loss of my child—the one connection I had to a future—was a wound no healer could mend.

When I returned to the pack house, the emptiness was palpable. Gabriel was gone, as usual. I didn’t even bother asking where he was. Yna, my only confidante, greeted me at the door, her expression troubled.

“He’s with her again,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

I stiffened, my hands clenching at my sides. I didn’t need to ask who “her” was.

“Did he say when he’d be back?” I asked, forcing my voice to stay calm.

Yna hesitated, her gaze flickering away. “They’re planning their wedding. The pack… they’ve been told to keep it from you.”

For a moment, the world tilted beneath me. But then, unexpectedly, I laughed. It was a sharp, bitter sound that echoed through the empty hall. “Of course. Why wouldn’t he? He wanted me to stay blind and obedient.”

The bitterness in my chest hardened into something colder, sharper. “But I’m done, Yna,” I said quietly. “I’m leaving.”

That night, sleep was impossible. The silence of the pack house felt suffocating, pressing down on me like a weight I couldn’t shake. I wandered downstairs to get some water, hoping the cool liquid would soothe the storm raging within me.

The house was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. As I approached the kitchen, hushed voices reached my ears.

“I still can’t believe someone murdered him,” Charlotte’s sweet, venomous voice drifted through the shadows. “The prince’s death… Do you think—”

“Shut it,” Gabriel hissed, his tone sharp and urgent. “We shouldn’t speak of his death here.”

I froze, my blood running cold. They were talking about William. My brother.

Charlotte scoffed, her impatience clear. “You’re too cautious, Gabriel. Then what about the princess?”

Gabriel’s voice dropped, muffled but tense. “… hard… find...”

My heart raced, unease clawing at my chest. Why were they talking about my family? About me?

The floor creaked beneath my foot, and the voices fell silent.

“Who’s there?” Gabriel’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

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