The Hidden Werewolf Princess

The Ironclaw Packhouse exuded luxury, a testament to Eleonor’s meticulous planning for her son’s engagement banquet. The grand ballroom brimmed with pack members and allies, dressed in their finest attire. Gabriel’s mother had spared no expense for this event, determined to solidify Charlotte’s position as the future Luna.

In the shadows of the bustling hall, Isabelle stood unnoticed. Her headscarf concealed her identity, while Yna’s concoctions masked her scent. She lingered in a corner, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd, her heart weighed down by the betrayal she’d endured.

“Isabelle, if they recognize you…” Yna whispered anxiously, clutching Isabelle’s arm. “They’ll tear you apart. Everyone thinks Gabriel sent you away on vacation.”

Isabelle’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. “Vacation?” she repeated mockingly. “I guess betrayal comes with perks now.”

As she watched the guests laugh and mingle, snippets of conversation reached her ears.

“Did you hear about the royal family’s bounty?” a woman murmured to her companion.

“Yes,” the man replied, lowering his voice. “They’re desperate to find the prince’s murderer. William may have been a scoundrel, but his death embarrassed the kingdom.”

“Scoundrel is an understatement,” another chimed in. “He gambled away fortunes and seduced countless women. Honestly, his death feels like karma.”

The mention of the prince’s name sent a shiver down Isabelle’s spine. Even here, she was reminded of the untimely death of her eldest brother. But until now, she didn't know what to feel about it. William was cruel to her in the past, and he indeed was a scandalous prince, but did he really deserve to be killed like that?

She clenched her fists, forcing herself to focus on the present.

“Charlotte is perfect—strong, graceful, and from a noble lineage. Isabelle was always… ordinary.”

Isabelle clenched her fists. Their words were daggers, slicing through the already fragile remnants of her pride. Even Eleonor, Gabriel’s mother, joined the ridicule, her voice carrying above the chatter.

“I’ve never approved of Isabelle,” Eleonor declared, sipping her champagne. “She was always beneath us. Charlotte will give us the Alpha heir we deserve.”

Upon saying mean things towards Isabelle whom they thought was away, the older woman glanced at Charlotte who was beside the Alpha. “Charlotte, my dear,” she called her precious daughter-in-law, placing a hand on the younger woman’s arm, “I can’t wait to see my grandchild. I hope you conceive the Alpha heir soon.”

Charlotte smiled demurely, but Isabelle’s vision blurred with anger and grief. Memories of her own lost child surfaced, each one a painful reminder of what she could never have. She clutched her stomach, her nails digging into her palms as she fought to keep her composure.

“Isabelle,” Yna urged again, panic in her voice.

Her friend tugged at her arm. “Please, Isabelle, let’s leave. You don’t need to do this.”

But Isabelle pulled away. “No,” she said, her voice low but laced with steel. “I’ve had enough. If they want to celebrate, let me give them something to remember.”

At that moment, Isabelle had already reached her breaking point. Her vision blurred, but not from tears—this was fury. Pure, unrelenting fury.

She stepped forward, her scarf slipping slightly as gasps rippled through the crowd. Whispers turned to stunned silence as she made her way to the center of the room.

“Why?” she said, her voice cutting through the silence. “Am I not allowed to join your party? You all seem to be having the time of your lives.”

Gasps and whispers rippled through the crowd as they recognized her.

“Isabelle?”

“I thought she was in vacation!”

“What is she doing here?”

"What a way to spoil the party..."

Gabriel was at her side in an instant, his face a mixture of anger and disbelief.

“Isabelle,” he hissed. “What are you doing here? You told me you were leaving today.”

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Did I? I must’ve changed my mind.” Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the room. “What’s this party for, Alpha? You didn’t mention it when you suggested I take a vacation.”

Before Gabriel could answer, Eleonor stepped forward, her lips curling into a sneer.

“Yes, Isabelle, you’re not allowed here!” she snapped. “Can’t you see this party isn’t for a lowly omega like you?”

Isabelle squared her shoulders, her voice steady and sharp. “I didn’t realize an omega, who was the long term girlfriend of the alpha, needed permission to be in her own pack’s party. Or does that only apply to me?”

The tension in the room thickened as the two women locked eyes.

“You’ve always been insolent,” Eleonor spat. “What should we expect from a she-wolf with a lowly background, after all? Are you that desperate for my son's wealth and power?”

“Don't mirror your greed to me, old hag,” Isabelle shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

The room buzzed with murmurs as Eleonor's face darkened. “How dare you speak to me like that!” she hissed before raising her hand and slapping Isabelle across the face.

Isabelle staggered but didn’t fall. Straightening, she met Eleonor’s furious gaze head-on.

“You can hit me, Eleonor, but it won't change the fact that you're a greedy old hag,” she said coldly.

Eleonore’s voice trembled with rage. “Gabriel, I want her banished! Banished this instant! Guards, remove this insolent omega!”

The guards stepped forward, their hands gripping Isabelle’s arms, but before they could drag her away, an elderly man in the corner gasped.

“By the Moon Goddess!” he exclaimed, his voice breaking through the tension. “The princess with the ice bloodline has been revealed!”

All eyes turned to him as he held up a newspaper. On its front page was a portrait of a regal-looking woman, her features strikingly similar to Isabelle’s.

The crowd erupted into chaos, whispers flying as everyone compared the portrait to Isabelle.

“Oh my gosh! Doesn’t this look like Isabelle?”