chapter 5

Author's POV

The sky grew dark and heavy with clouds, casting an oppressive shadow over the land. Rain began to fall, first as a light drizzle, then swiftly turning into a relentless downpour. The sound of thunder echoed through the air, a low, ominous rumble that seemed to shake the very ground. It felt as if nature itself was holding its breath, waiting for what was to come as Damian underwent his transformation.

In an instant, Damian stood before Isabella and her mother. He moved with a speed that showed his supernatural ability. Without warning, he grabbed both Isabella and Mrs. Williams by the neck, lifting them off the ground with ease. His grip was strong and unyielding, his eyes burning with a dark, cruel light.

"No betrayal will go unpunished without a consequence," Damian said, his voice cold and filled with malice. His expression was twisted into a devilish smile, reflecting the evil within him.

Isabella struggled frantically to break free from his grasp. Fear gripped her heart, not just for herself, but for her mother. The thought of losing the most important person in her life was unbearable. Memories flooded her mind – she was only a baby when her biological mother died. She had never known a mother's love. Her father's remarriage to Mrs. Victoria Williams had filled a void, but the pain of her early loss had never completely healed.

Now, as she dangled helplessly in Damian's grip, Isabella's fear was overwhelming. She couldn't bear the thought of losing her mother again. Her eyes filled with tears as she thought of the love and warmth she had only recently begun to experience. Her struggles grew more desperate, her kicks and writhing more frantic.

The rain continued to pour down, mingling with Isabella's tears. The thunder grew louder, as if the storm itself was growing angrier. The scent of wet earth filled the air, mingling with the tension and fear that hung heavily around them. Isabella's heart pounded in her chest, each beat a painful reminder of her dire situation.

She glanced at her mother, seeing the fear and pain mirrored in her eyes. They were both trapped, helpless in the face of Damian's strength. The world around them seemed to blur, the storm and the terror blending into one overwhelming sensation. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated fear, with no end in sight.

Ever since then, Mrs. Williams had given Isabella the love of a mother. She couldn't afford to lose her because she was her source of happiness.

"Please, let my mother go," Isabella said, tears streaming down her cheeks. Mrs. Williams was gasping for air, unable to say a single word.

"Punish me and let my mother go. It wasn't our intention to betray you," Isabella wept. Little drops of her tears rolled down her cheeks and fell on Damian's arm.

Immediately, Isabella's tears touched Damian's arm. He unintentionally released his grip on their necks, his red, fiery eyes slowly changing back to normal.

Isabella and her mother landed violently on the ground. Isabella immediately rushed to her mother's aid. "Mother, are you okay?" Isabella asked. She hugged her mother, feeling relieved that she was still breathing.

"Mrs. Collins's voice sliced through the tense air like a sharpened blade, her eyes ablaze with fury as she confronted Damian. Her words, dripping with indignation and anger, reverberated in the room, punctuated by the accusation hanging heavily in the air. "Why did you release them?"

Damian stood before her, his posture betraying a mix of defiance and apprehension. He knew her well enough to anticipate her reaction, yet her raw emotion still caught him off guard.

Derek's voice, calm yet firm, chimed in from the corner of the room. His words carried a weight of agreement, underlined by a sense of righteousness. "Mother is right, Damian," he asserted, his gaze unwavering as he voiced his support for Mrs. Collins. "They are traitors and deserved nothing less than death."

The room seemed to shrink with tension, each word echoing against the walls. Damian, caught between his sense of duty and compassion, wrestled with the gravity of his decision. The consequences of his actions now loomed large, mirrored by the unwavering judgment from those closest to him.

Mrs. Collins, her gaze fixed with steely determination, strode purposefully towards Damian. Her footsteps echoed faintly in the tense silence that hung heavy in the air. She had seen him freeze mid-action, his hand poised to strike, but then he hesitated, causing her to slow her approach. Thoughts raced through her mind like wildfire on a dry prairie. Had Damian's illness flared up again? Or was there some other reason for his sudden change of heart?

Her heart pounded with a mixture of relief and frustration. She had been counting on Damian to eliminate Isabella—their Luna—and thereby secure their future. If Isabella were to perish by Damian's hand, it would spell the end of her reign, a crucial step towards their group's ascendancy.

"What happened, Damian?" Mrs. Collins inquired softly, her voice laced with concern and a hint of urgency. "They betrayed us. They deserve to pay for their treachery."

She moved closer to him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of wavering resolve. "You should end their chapter immediately," she urged, her words a gentle yet insistent push towards action. There was no room for hesitation, not now. The consequences of delay could be catastrophic, and she was not about to let that happen.

"That will be a sin," interrupted Mr. Ragnar, his voice resonating with authority in the dimly lit council chamber. He stood tall, a commanding figure with his blonde hair swept back and piercing dark green eyes that seemed to hold the wisdom of ages. Ragnar was not only a distinguished member of the Blue Moon pack but also Damian's distant cousin, their lineage intertwined through generations of werewolf heritage.

Ragnar was more than just a relative; he was Damian's uncle's son, a connection forged deeper through shared grief and familial duty. After Damian's father perished, Ragnar's father stepped into the role of mentor, guiding Damian long before he ascended to become the alpha and ruler of the Blue Moon pack. It was Ragnar's father who imparted the ancient wisdom of their kind, teaching Damian the intricate ways of the wolf, preparing him for the weight of leadership that would one day rest upon his shoulders.

The bond between uncle and nephew was further cemented by tragedy. Prior to Damian's formal ascent to alpha, an attempt was made on his life, a vicious attack orchestrated by rival clans seeking dominance. In that dire moment, it was Ragnar's father who selflessly intervened, sacrificing his own life to save Damian. The loss was profound, but Damian owed his very existence to the bravery of his uncle's family.

"If Damian kills Isabella," Ragnar continued solemnly, his voice carrying the weight of undeniable truth, "he will lose everything—his pack, his throne, even his powers. Isabella is his Luna, and it is forbidden for an Alpha to take the life of his chosen mate."

In that stark declaration echoed the ancient laws that governed their world, laws not to be defied even by the most powerful of werewolf alphas. Ragnar's words hung in the air, a solemn reminder of the intricate web of duty, honor, and consequence that bound them all.

"Derek's voice carried the weight of betrayal and disappointment as he spoke, 'But she betrayed him, so she deceived to be punished.'"

Mr. Ragnar's response was firm and unwavering, emphasizing the rules with a stern tone, "That is the rules, Derek, and Damian knows that very well. You were about to commit a crime, Damian, but stopped at the nick of time."

Mrs. Collins' face twisted in disgust, her disbelief palpable. Damian stood on the brink of losing everything, and she and her son stood to gain from his downfall. Yet, she couldn't comprehend why Damian halted his intended attack.

"Oh my!" Mrs. Collins exclaimed, her voice tinged with feigned concern. "My son, Damian, was about to commit a crime. That's not possible. Thank goodness you stopped, Damian. "

"They committed a crime and must be punished for it," Damian declared, his voice laced with indignation . His brows furrowed deeply, accentuating his serious expression. "It would be a sin to harm the daughter, but not her mother."

His command cut through the room like a knife. "Throw her mother in the dungeon," Damian ordered firmly, his tone brooking no opposition.

Isabella, a gentle soul with doe-like eyes, stood nearby, her heart skipping a beat at Damian's words. Her eyes widened in raw fear at the thought of her beloved mother being torn away from her and cast into the dark confines of the dungeon.