I instinctively wanted to hide the tray in my hands, but seeing that I had already been noticed, I decided to face the situation head-on.

"Why are you back here on your mark ceremony day, when you’ve already marked the future Lycan King?" Brady accused me, his voice sharp with disapproval.

From inside the room, the sounds of laughter between Isabela and Ashton reached my ears.

Yes, my mark ceremony day.

Here I was, witnessing my mate flirt with another woman, while my own brother not only turned a blind eye but also blamed me for not staying at the palace.

"Isabela just returned from the borderlands, and she must be exhausted from the journey. She’s delicate, Emmy. Be the bigger person and let her have her way," Brady said, his brow furrowing as he noticed my gaze fixed on the room.

I remained silent, stepping forward and pushing the door open.

Inside, Isabela sat gracefully on the sofa, pouting slightly as she looked up at the cold, imposing figure of Ashton.

Ashton knelt before her, his hands cradling her ankles, his eyes filled with concern and tenderness.

I felt my breath catch.

To see Ashton, the future Lycan King, willingly kneel before someone—something I could never make him do.

Ashton’s eyes flicked up to meet mine, and for a brief moment, I caught a flicker of disdain, as if he were annoyed by my intrusion into his moment with Isabela.

My eyes swept across the room, taking in the chaos.

The tapestry I had spent nearly a year on, straining my eyes until they nearly gave out, was torn to shreds, trampled and dirtied.

Ashton cleared his throat, a hint of guilt in the gesture.

Brady followed me into the room, his eyes widening at the mess. For once, he offered an explanation.

"Isabela wanted to see the tapestry you made, so I brought her here with the Prince," he said, his gaze softening as it landed on Isabela, who looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

"It’s just a tapestry, Emmy. If Isabela likes it, why not make another one for her? It’s not like you have much else to do," Brady added, his tone dismissive.

Creating a tapestry was no small task. It strained the eyes and consumed every ounce of focus. Most crafters went blind before they even reached thirty. For nearly a year, I had poured my heart into this piece, hoping for just a single word of praise from Ashton.

But clearly, he didn’t care.

Ignoring the disapproving looks from Ashton and Brady, I refused outright.

"I don’t have the time."

Isabela shrank back behind Ashton, her eyes wide and teary as she looked at me.

"Does the future Luna not like me? I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault. I didn’t mean to ruin your beautiful work," she said, her voice trembling as if she were on the verge of tears.

"I’ve just always heard how lovely tapestries are, and I was curious."

Ashton’s heart ached at her pitiful expression, and he shot me a cold glare.

"The mark ceremony hasn’t been completed yet. She’s not the Luna."

Ashton ordered me, his voice cold and commanding, his Alpha tone leaving no room for defiance.

“Isabela has taken a liking to something of yours. Consider it an honor. Be grateful and accept it.”

“Until you’ve finished embroidering it, you’ll stay at the Beta’s residence. Don’t come back to the Lycan Palace. When you’ve learned to obey, then you may return to see me.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I kept my head bowed, refusing to show any sign of weakness. Ashton didn’t spare me another glance. He scooped Isabela into his arms—she had twisted her ankle—and strode away without a word.

The moment Isabela left, Brady’s attention followed. He hurried after them, clutching a bowl of protein-packed smoothie he had personally prepared. Before disappearing, he barked at the servants, “Lock her up! She doesn’t leave until Isabela is satisfied!”

The tears I had been holding back finally spilled over. “Brady!” I called out, my voice trembling.

I had already witnessed Ashton’s unwavering devotion to Isabela. I wasn’t foolish enough to cling to the title of Luna, nor would I humiliate myself by causing trouble for Isabela. All I wanted in that moment was the comfort of family—just one person to stand by my side, to offer a word of solace.

Brady paused, his brow furrowed as he shot me a disdainful look. “This is your own doing. You insisted on becoming the mate of the future Lycan King, competing with Isabela for the position of Luna. Now you’re reaping what you sowed. Don’t blame anyone else.”

With that, he turned and left, his steps hurried as if chasing after Isabela.

Shelby, my loyal caretaker, wrapped her arms around me, her heart breaking for me. I laughed through my tears. “Yes, it’s my fault. I insisted on becoming his mate.”

Everyone in the pack knew Ashton’s heart belonged to Isabela Johnson. When Isabela had defied the Lycan King’s decree and fled to the rogue territories, Ashton had been devastated. In his despair, he had chosen his mate through a random selection from the eligible females of the pack. It was a humiliating, careless gesture, and no one but me had been willing to accept it.

Ashton had pined for Isabela for nine years, while I had silently loved him for ten. Even if there was only the slightest chance, I wanted to stand by his side. Even if his heart never held a place for me, I thought I could care for him, support him, and use my status as a Beta’s sister to aid him in some small way.

But now Isabela had returned. I felt like a fraud, a thief who had stolen a position that was never meant to be mine. Even my own brother thought I deserved this pain.

The middle of the night was shattered by the violent yank that dragged me out of bed. A freezing bucket of water was thrown over me, soaking me from head to toe. As I blinked the water from my eyes, I saw Brady Carpenter’s face, twisted with fury.

“Emmy Sullivan, you’ve really outdone yourself this time!” he snarled, his Alpha tone reverberating through the room. “The entire pack is rallying behind you, calling Isabela a homewrecker for daring to show up at the mark ceremony. Do you have any idea what this is doing to her? A werewolf’s scent and reputation are everything, and you’re trying to destroy hers!”

His hand struck my face with a force that made my ears ring. I stumbled back, dazed.

“I didn’t do it,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“Don’t lie to me!” Brady roared, his aura flaring with anger. “Your caretaker, Shelby, was the one behind it. You’re telling me you had nothing to do with it?”

My heart sank. Isabela was Brady’s and Ashton’s most treasured person, protected and cherished as if she were made of glass. The thought of what Ashton would do to Shelby if he found out terrified me.

Tears streamed down my face as I fell to my knees. “Brother, Shelby’s old. It’s all my fault. Please, don’t involve her. I’ll take the blame. Just let her go.”

I sobbed uncontrollably. My parents were long gone, and Brady had always been harsh with me, his attention solely focused on Isabela. Shelby was the only family I had left.

“Please, brother,” I begged, my forehead pressed to the floor. “Spare her life. I’ll do anything you want. It was all me. Shelby had nothing to do with it. Please, if you don’t help her, Ashton will kill her!”

Brady stood unmoved, his expression cold and dismissive. He watched as I repeatedly knocked my head against the ground until my forehead was raw and bleeding. The sight only seemed to disgust him further, reinforcing his belief that I was nothing compared to Isabela’s grace and composure.

Then, with a deafening crash, the door to my room was kicked open.

Ashton Sullivan strode in, flanked by a group of warriors. He wore a dark suit, the hem of his jacket stained with fresh blood. In his right hand, he held a knife; in his left, he carried Shelby’s severed head.

His lips curled into a cruel smirk as he looked down at me. “You wanted to save her? Too late.”

His voice was cold, laced with venom. “I warned you, Emmy. Touch Isabela, and I’ll make sure you suffer.”

My mind went blank, a wave of horror and despair crashing over me. I stared at Ashton, tears frozen on my face, my voice barely a whisper. “You killed her… you killed her…”

He stepped closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over me. His face, once so handsome, now filled me with dread. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “You’re truly despicable, Emmy. I was going to mark you as my mate, but now? You’re not even worth that.”

“Ashton…” I murmured, my voice trembling.

For a moment, he seemed to falter, but then his expression hardened. He slapped me across the face, the force of it sending me sprawling to the floor.

Ashton had always loved someone else—Isabela. For nine years, he had dreamed of her, protected her, and finally, after years of waiting, she had returned to him. His dream was within reach.

But something about me unsettled him. Ever since the mark ceremony, every time we were together, he felt a strange familiarity, as if I were someone he should know. He hated it. He hated how I seemed to mimic Isabela, how I could make him forget her, even for a moment.

“Shut up!” he snarled. “You’re still trying to imitate her? You think you’re worthy of that?”

I lay on the floor, my tears dripping onto my hands. Slowly, I pushed myself up, my eyes tracing the contours of his face. I had always been too shy to look at him directly, content to sketch his features in my mind. Now, I studied him in detail, engraving every detail so I could carve him out of my heart.

“Ashton,” I said, my voice steady despite the tears. “I regret it. I don’t want to be your mate anymore.”

He laughed, a cold, bitter sound. “You think you ever had a chance? Isabela is the only one who deserves that title.”

I looked up at him, my heart breaking. Ten years. The boy I had loved for so long had become a stranger, his soul rotting from within.

“I don’t want to see you anymore,” I said, my voice shaking but firm.

Ashton’s eyes met mine, an unreadable emotion flickering in their depths. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, finally, he spoke.

“Fine. Then you’ll be marked by someone else.”