LOGINIsolde’s POV
I had a twin—Isla. Yeah, I know. The names? Tragic. Go ahead and blame our parents for thinking rhyming was cute. Isla was the golden child. We were identical down to the last eyelash, but somehow, she always sparkled a little more. Boys tripped over themselves for her. She was sweet, graceful, soft-spoken, basically the lead role in a fairy tale. Me? I was the background noise. Loud, impulsive, stubborn as hell, and apparently allergic to rules. Definitely not the favorite. It wasn’t exactly a mystery who our parents preferred. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t me. When we turned sixteen, our family moved to the Red Moon Pack. Big promotion vibes, my dad joined Alpha Grey’s inner circle, and my mom became the Pack Enforcer. Discipline, control, and iron fists, that kind of thing. Real bedtime story material. With all the new money rolling in, our parents gave us a rare freedom: pick any high school we wanted. No budget limit. I chose Selville High. Isla went with Storm High. Finally, a break. No more perfect twin breathing down my neck. Bliss. Or so I thought. Selville was hell on stilts. Rich kids, genius kids, and me? I stuck out like a sore, underperforming thumb. The bullying started fast. Some professor—Jake? Jordan? Whatever—decided I was “dumb” on day one, and the rest followed his lead like good little sheep. I didn’t have friends. I barely spoke to anyone. My days were a blur of lectures, silence, and watching the clock tick painfully slow. Until I met him—Ryder. The Alpha’s third-born son. He wasn’t like the rest of them. While the other boys at Selville wore arrogance like cologne, Ryder wore silence like a weapon. He was quiet, cold, and completely untouchable. The kind of guy you don’t look in the eye unless you’re ready to bleed. And gods, was he beautiful in that brutal kind of way? Sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and a mouth that always looked halfway to a smirk or a warning. But it was his eyes that did the damage. Storm-grey. Cold. Sharp. Like he saw through you and wasn’t impressed. I fell for him the second I saw him. And somehow, that became the one thing Isla and I actually connected over. I wasn’t especially close to her, but Ryder? He was the bridge. I’d ramble about his eyes, his voice, the way he leaned against walls like he owned gravity. And she’d listen—really listen. Then fate did her dramatic little thing. Cough cough. No, not mates. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We weren’t fated. Not even close. But then we got paired for a group project. Just a random assignment, nothing special. Except... it changed everything. After that, he kept showing up. Not just in class. In the cafeteria. In the library. Outside the gym. We kept crossing paths, like the universe had quietly decided we were meant to collide again and again. Some people might call it a coincidence. I didn’t. And maybe it’s foolish. Maybe it’s naive. But I don’t care what anyone thinks. To me, it meant something. Maybe, just maybe, I was meant to stand beside him. Even if he was the storm. And I was just the girl reckless enough to step into it. I don’t know how it happened but we became close. Closer than I’d expected. He started trusting me with things he’d never told anyone else. Just me. He said he never wanted to be Alpha. That all he’d ever wanted was to live without blood on his hands. But that wasn’t an option in the Grey family. His father, Alpha Grey believed strength was born from pain. So when Ryder turned thirteen, he was dragged out into the forest in the middle of the night… and left there. Alone. No food or protection. Just his human body and the howls of rogue wolves surrounding him. It was a “lesson.” One of many. He made it back three days later, half-starved, his back torn open, one eye swollen shut, and claw marks down his thigh from a rogue who almost ripped him apart. His father didn’t say a word. Just nodded and walked away. No praise. No comfort. After that, it only got worse. At fourteen, he was ordered to kill a traitor from the pack. A boy not much older than him, someone who’d once shared his lunch at training. Ryder was forced to look him in the eye as he slit his throat. Each memory he shared was worse than the last. I ached for him. If I could’ve taken his pain and carved it into my own skin, I would have. I knew every scar on his back by heart. The long one from the rogue. The jagged one near his ribs from the training accident he never talked about. When he slept near me, I’d trace them in the dark, not with my fingers, but with my eyes. Like they were constellations only I could read. He never asked for comfort, but from that moment on, he became my gravity. My reason. My world. Ryder worked hard and earned his place at Selville College, the best in the pack. And I knew I had to keep up. So I studied harder than I ever had in my life. Night after night, I buried myself in books until my fingers cramped and my eyes burned. I passed. And on my first day at Selville, as I stepped onto campus, I spotted him across the courtyard. He didn’t hesitate. He grabbed me by the waist and spun me around like he’d been waiting years to do it. His laughter cracked, and in that moment, nothing else existed. College was ours. We spent hours together in special moments, on rooftops, in quiet corners of the library, and during late-night walks that always seemed to end too quickly. We went on a few dates. We almost crossed the line more times than I could count. Every time his hands lingered too long, every time our breaths hitched, it felt like we were dancing on the edge of something we both wanted, something dangerous and impossible to take back. Then I turned twenty-one. Still no wolf. Three years had passed since I turned eighteen, and nothing inside me ever stirred. No howling. No shifting. Every full moon reminded me I was different. A she-wolf without a wolf. I tried to be strong, but sometimes I cried myself to sleep wondering why me? Isla, my twin had awakened her wolf the very night she turned eighteen. Her shift had been perfect. Effortless. Her wolf was as elegant as she was, with sleek silver fur, piercing lavender eyes, and a graceful stride. Everyone celebrated her awakening like she was the future of the pack. And I stood in her shadow, pretending I wasn’t quietly breaking. And Ryder… he was always there. He’d hold me close and say it wasn’t the end of the world. That late bloomers existed. That I was still powerful in ways no one else could understand. And for a while… I believed him. I thought my life was finally falling into place. We made it to the end of college. I still remember that morning; our convocation ceremony. I had plans. Dreams. I thought maybe, just maybe, he’d ask me to be his girlfriend officially. But after Ryder walked across the stage and collected his certificate and his award, I couldn’t find him. He vanished. I searched for him through the crowd. Waited by the gate. Called his phone over and over. Nothing. So I went home. Back to my apartment. And there, right in my sitting room, I found him. Not waiting with flowers. Not reaching for me. But kissing my sister.**Disclaimer:** This story contains dark romance themes including explicit non-consensual sexual content, violence, forced marking/bonding, emotional abuse, revenge, and psychological trauma. It is intended for mature adult readers only. Reader discretion is strongly advised. --- **Chapter Six: Isolde** Ryder’s fist remained buried in my hair, yanking my head back so sharply that pain exploded across my scalp. Tears pricked my eyes as I was forced to meet his cold, storm-grey gaze—the same eyes I had once loved with every foolish piece of my heart. A cruel, twisted smile slowly curved his lips. It held no warmth, only pure, calculated malice. “Since you’ve always been so desperate to replace your twin,” he said, voice low and dripping with venom, “and I’ve already marked you like the pathetic substitute you are… it’s time, Isolde.” He leaned in, lips brushing my ear as his breath burned against my skin. “Tonight is our mating night. You’ll spread your legs like the whore you a
Isolde’s POV I once believed I would spend the rest of my life rotting away in that cell—a fitting punishment for my unforgivable sins. But I had almost forgotten who Ryder truly was. He would never grant me the mercy of a slow, quiet death. That would be far too simple for him. Early the next morning, rough hands dragged me from my cell and hauled me to his chambers. I was forced to wait for him like a condemned prisoner awaiting judgment. My body betrayed me instantly; a violent tremor ran through my limbs as dread crashed over me in icy waves. His chambers were larger than I had imagined, yet strangely sparse. The simplicity of it unsettled me. Ryder’s taste had always leaned toward darkness, but this felt… hollow. Cold. Back when we were teenagers, he was obsessed with anything dark and gloomy, while I lived for bright colors—especially pink and anything that sparkled. Our school uniform was a hideous mix of orange and red that I secretly despised. But Ryder, being Ry
Isolde’s POVMy knees buckled, the world spinning around me in a dizzy blur. I barely registered Ryder stepping back before my body collapsed with a sickening thud against the cold, hard floor.Rough hands seized my arms before I could catch my breath."Take her to the west wing," Ryder’s voice cut through the air, low and emotionless.The guards didn’t hesitate. They hoisted me up like a rag doll, their grip bruising. I struggled to match their long, urgent strides, but my legs refused to cooperate. I stumbled again, my knees scraping stone, my skin tearing against the harsh floor.Gasps echoed.Whispers followed.“Is that Isla?”“How will I know? They both look the same anyway!” “Alpha didn't call her Isla when he came in” “No… that’s the other one—Isolde.”“She must have done something unforgivable…”Soon, we reached the west wing. They threw me inside like I was filth—nothing more than a stain on their pristine pack floors. The door slammed behind me.The west wing was still par
Isolde's Pov My heart shattered and it felt as if my world had collapsed right in before my very eyes. My eyes burned, but I refused to let the tears fall. Not here. I can't cry. Not in front of him. Not in front of her. Ryder noticed me. His face lit up with that same smile he used to reserve for me. He walked over and gently took my hand. Like nothing had happened. “Finally,” he said like I was late for something beautiful. “I’ve been waiting for you.” My throat tightened. “What’s going on?”, My voice barely came out. It cracked like something inside me was breaking in slow motion. He let go of my hand. Then he turned and wrapped his arm around Isla’s waist, “I know it’s strange, reintroducing someone you’ve known your whole life,” he said with a laugh. “Especially when that someone’s your twin sister.” Then he looked at Isla. Eyes soft. Adoring, “Meet Isla,” he said. “My Mate and girlfriend.” Mate. That word hit like a knife under the ribs. The word
Isolde’s POV I had a twin—Isla. Yeah, I know. The names? Tragic. Go ahead and blame our parents for thinking rhyming was cute. Isla was the golden child. We were identical down to the last eyelash, but somehow, she always sparkled a little more. Boys tripped over themselves for her. She was sweet, graceful, soft-spoken, basically the lead role in a fairy tale. Me? I was the background noise. Loud, impulsive, stubborn as hell, and apparently allergic to rules. Definitely not the favorite. It wasn’t exactly a mystery who our parents preferred. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t me. When we turned sixteen, our family moved to the Red Moon Pack. Big promotion vibes, my dad joined Alpha Grey’s inner circle, and my mom became the Pack Enforcer. Discipline, control, and iron fists, that kind of thing. Real bedtime story material. With all the new money rolling in, our parents gave us a rare freedom: pick any high school we wanted. No budget limit. I chose Selville High. Isla went with
Isolde~ It was almost evening. More than three hours had passed, and I was still standing at the far end of the aisle alone. My ankles ached in the heels I was forced to wear. I kept shifting from one foot to the other, trying to ease the pain, but it didn’t help. Although I couldn’t see my feet under the overflowing white wedding dress, the sharp sting told me enough — they were already bruised. My makeup felt heavy on my skin. Sweat trickled down my back and chest, sticking the fabric to me. I was hot, dizzy, and tired of pretending. And then the whispers started. “Isn’t Alpha Ryder going to attend his wedding?” “Why hasn’t he shown up yet?” “Poor girl” Tears welled up and burned my eyes. I bit my lip under the veil so hard I tasted blood. But the tears fell anyway. One slipped free. Then another. My fingers shook around the bouquet I held, the flowers trembling just like me. And then… Through the noise. Through the whispers. I heard it. “Isolde.” Sharp enough t







