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. Loud. Cruel. Unforgiving.

“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.

I didn’t wipe them away.

Let the makeup smear. Let them see me cry.

Let them watch me fall apart.

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 to break me.

It was his voice. Alpha Ryder had arrived.

Not to marry me but to destroy me. He called me by my real name. Not Isla but isolde. My eyes burned with unshed tears as realization dawned on me. He knew.....

Towering. Dressed in black. Cold as death. No trace of warmth in his face, no apology in his eyes. He walked down the aisle with slow, deliberate steps; like he was going to war.

Like I was the battlefield.

He stopped beside me at the altar, saying nothing. His jaw was clenched and his aura—suffocating.

The Elder finally stepped forward, clearing his throat with tension wrinkling his brow.

“By the will of the Moon Goddess, under her gaze and the ancient rites that bind wolf to wolf, mate to mate—

We gather to witness the sacred union between Alpha Ryder of the Bloodfang Pack, and Isla of Silver Fang bloodline.”

A wave of discomfort spread across the room. No one spoke.

The Elder pressed on, “Isla, do you accept this binding? Do you offer your heart, body, and wolf if she stirs to the Alpha beside you?”

“Do you vow to serve, obey, and bear his mark, no matter the weight of the bond?”

My lips parted. The answer caught in my throat. But I forced it out, “I do.”

The Elder turned toward Ryder, relief beginning to bloom in his expression, “And do you, Alpha Ryder—”

“I’ll say mine,” Alpha Ryder interrupted, his voice slicing through the moment, “To her. Alone.”

The Elder froze and nodded before stepping back.

Ryder didn’t wait. He stepped closer. So close I could feel the heat of him. Veil still over my face. Makeup streaked with tears.

And then—

He leaned down, brushing his lips against my ear. His voice was razor-wrapped in silk, “You don’t deserve her dress. You don’t deserve my mark. But I’m going to give it to you anyway not because you’re mine to love, but because you’re mine to ruin.”

My spine stiffened. My bouquet shook in my hands.

He went on, “From this moment forward, I vow to be your shadow. Your storm. Your curse in daylight. I’ll touch you like I touched her. Make you beg like she never had to. You’ll sleep in her bed and wake up drowning in her ghost.”

“You think this is punishment? No, Isolde. This is your unraveling. You’ll cry for mercy, and I’ll kiss your tears. You’ll scream my name, and I’ll shove it deeper.”

His breath burned against my skin. His lips brushed my temple.

“You regret taking her place? You will. You’ll regret every breath you’ve stolen since the day she died and when I'm done....”

Then his tongue dragged across the shell of my ear, slow and deliberate as his tone dropped low—more quiet than a whisper, “…you’ll wish it had been you in the casket instead.”

And just like that he stepped back. His face unreadable. His voice, however, thundered through the hall, “Expose her neck. Now.”

The Elder hesitated. His old hands trembled. But Ryder didn’t repeat himself. A warrior stepped forward from the side. One of his, loyal and brutal. He yanked the veil back without ceremony. Pins tore from my hair, scattering like broken stars across the altar floor.

The few guests present gasped.

And then he did what no one else dared; he reached behind my neck, grabbed the delicate chain clasp, and tore it apart with a metallic snap. The dress’s neckline sagged, revealing the bare curve of my neck and shoulder.

I felt naked. Stripped. Offered.

I flinched.

The Elder’s voice shook, “Alpha Ryder, by the rites—”

“Fuck the rites,” Ryder growled.

And then—

He stepped forward. His hand curled around my jaw. Fingers tightening and then he tilted my head back so my throat was bared to him, helpless and trembling, “Look at them,” he hissed under his breath. “Let them see the moment you’re ruined.”

His fangs dropped with a sickening sound. The crowd held their breath.

I didn’t get time to brace.

He bit.

Hard.

Pain exploded through my neck. My scream echoed across the walls. I fought, legs dangling and tears gushing but he didn't stop.

The bond—

The bond slammed into me like a truck.

Heat. Pressure. A searing wave of something dark and brutal that cleaved into my very soul.

Not love. Not devotion.

Just raw, animalistic possession.

He pulled back, blood staining his lips. Mine.

His mouth brushed my ear again as I collapsed against him, legs too weak to stand.

“You’re mine now, little thief.”

“And I will ruin you.”

I couldn’t speak. My vision turned blurry with more tears. Regret. So many regrets. I wanted to rewrite my wrongs. But I knew it was impossible.

All I could do now was serve my punishments. Because I deserved it.

——

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 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.

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 shattered me.

No. No, no, no. This wasn’t right.

He was mine. He consoled me when I cried about not shifting. He told me I wasn’t broken. He held me through my fears.

Every late-night call.

Every forehead kiss.

Every almost.

It wasn’t just care and comfort. It was love.

Wasn’t it?

But now, with his hand on her hip and that look in his eyes… I realized—

He never kissed me.

He never looked at me like that.

He loved me, sure.

But not in the way I loved him.

And I—gods, I had been obsessed.

Obsessed with the way he made me feel seen.

Obsessed enough to mistake his kindness for devotion.

Obsessed enough to rewrite reality in my head.

But in his reality, I was just the girl he was close to.

The one he pitied.

Not the one he chose.

"How is that possible?"

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Ryder’s smile faltered. His brows drew together as he stared at me, confusion flickering in his eyes.

Like he didn’t expect that reaction from me.

Of course, he didn’t.

Because to him, I was just his beloved friend.

The girl who was supposed to smile through the heartbreak and clap for his happy ending.

I was expected to be happy for him.

But I wasn’t. I never was.

Not when it came to her.

Not when it came to them.

I swallowed the ache clawing up my throat and forced a smile, “I meant… how did you two meet?” I asked, voice almost steady. “Isla never attended Selville High or Selville College. I never introduced you, so… when did this happen?”

Isla answered this time, her voice light and casual, as if she wasn’t cutting open my chest.

“Oh, during the Lunar League competition—Selville versus Elyria.” She laughed softly, leaning into him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“At first, when he recognized me as his mate, he actually thought I was you. He got all excited and confused—” she giggled, “but I explained it wasn’t me he’d known, and I was, in fact, your twin sister.”

I muttered a small “Oh” and told them I was happy for them. The words came easily.

There was no tremble in my voice, no bitter taste of a lie on my tongue. For a second, I thought… maybe I meant it. Maybe my heart had finally surrendered, quietly choosing peace over pain.

But I was wrong.

I hadn’t moved on. Not even close. Instead, I started imagining myself in Isla’s place, next to Ryder, where I should’ve been. She was my twin, my perfect replica. Seeing her with him was like watching my reflection live out the life I had dreamed of.

And when she said he thought she was me when they realized they were mates. That was enough.

Enough to convince me that he had loved me first. That somewhere deep down, he still did.

Maybe he chose her because he had no other option. Because fate tied her to him, and he was too loyal to fight it. But in my head, in my heart, it was always me. It had always been me.

I didn’t do anything excessive, so don't think of me as the villain... At least, not yet.

Then a year passed, then two years and I lingered. He ignored my signs countless times or maybe he was just oblivious to it. Ryder became the Alpha and announced Isla as his mate and engaged her in front of the whole pack.

Seeing that they were completely unshakeable, I reluctantly dated another man. Not just any man—Casper, Ryder's second older brother who had been asking me out for months. He was unmated and was the closest in resemblance to Ryder.

Even though we were dating, I never let him touch me. I wanted to keep myself for Ryder, in case. In case the moon goddess made a mistake. In case Isla wasn’t truly meant for him. In case fate corrected itself and gave me what I’d waited for my whole life.

Of course, Casper wasn’t happy. He started cheating. Openly. Recklessly. And I… I didn’t care. Because he wasn’t Ryder. He was just a placeholder for a dream I refused to let die.

But that dream... it festered.

The longer I watched them, their love, their bond, the more I felt something inside me unraveling.

I couldn’t understand how she got everything. We were born the same. We had the same face. But she got the wolf. She got the strength. She got the Alpha. She got Ryder.

And I got nothing.

Then two nights before their mating ceremony, I couldn't sleep. I didn't know how. The witch found me.

Or maybe I had been calling her all along.

She looked like a shadow wrapped in skin, eyes like coal smoldering under ash. She asked me no questions. She knew why I had come.

“I want them separated forever,” I said.

The witch smirks and says: “Very well. What’s bound can be broken. But broken things often shatter.”

Then she took a drop of my blood as payment, binding me to the spell, and then pressed something into my palm. Cold. Smooth. It's slick like a wet stone. A charm. Black as a starless night. It pulsed when I closed my fingers around it. It was alive. Hungry even.

I left believing she’d curse their bond, maybe stall the ceremony. Ruin the engagement. That was all I wanted. Not this.

Not death.

But the next morning, Isla was found cold in her bed. No wounds. No struggle. Just… gone. As if her soul had been stolen in silence.

My parents were shattered. The house felt colder every time I stepped into a room.

And the witch’s scent, iron, and decay never left my clothes. Then came the rune.

Witches don’t deal in favors. They seal deals in blood, in bone, in magic older than time.

The mark bloomed faintly on my skin, just under my collarbone. I didn’t even notice it at first. It looked like a bruise. But Wrong and scary.

Until the night I collapsed from the weight of it all, and my father found me on the floor. He pulled me into his arms… and saw it. The rune. The binding spell. His expression changed like a glacier cracking down the middle.

They searched my room.

In the back of a drawer I never locked, they found the charm I hadn’t buried properly. The one the witch gave me. Still pulsing faintly.

That was enough.

They knew.

My father hit me so hard my ears rang and the floor tilted beneath me. And when I looked up, they weren’t looking at their daughter anymore—only a mistake, a disgrace, a thing they wished they hadn’t raised.

Like I was something monstrous wearing her skin.

And then, just like that, they made their decision. The mating ceremony was to proceed. They told me I’d wear her dress. Stand in her place. Say her vows. Because to the world, Isla was alive and Isolde was dead. And Ryder must not know… not yet.

They held a funeral for Isla while Ryder was away, claiming that she was Isolde.

And while all these were happening, my heart wasn’t just beating. It was thundering. I didn’t want her dead. Goddess, I didn’t. I only wanted to pause fate. To buy time. To matter. But Isla was gone. And I was the one walking down the aisle.

On the day of the mating ceremony, I kept my head bowed, terrified that if he arrived, he’d see it—my guilt carved into every line of my face. My hands shook so violently that I had to tighten my grip around the bouquet just to keep it from unraveling.

Just get through the day, I told myself. Say your vows. Smile like her. Walk like her. Breathe like her.

But Ryder…

Ryder wasn’t fooled and we had overlooked one brutal truth in our desperation: A mate doesn’t need to see a corpse to know death.

They feel it.

When Isla died, it wasn’t her heartbeat that stopped first—it was his.

Not literally. But close enough.

Because soulmates are tethered by more than blood and fate. They’re fused at the seam of something eternal. When one half perishes, the other knows. And Ryder knew. The moment Isla’s breath left her body five days before this cursed ceremony—he felt it.

That was more than enough time for a man like him.

He came knowing that the girl in white wasn’t his Isla. Knowing she’d never be with him again.

And that I, her shadow, her thief, had taken her place.

Ryder probably spent the past four days after Isla's death unraveling the truth, then he traced the lies back to me like smoke to fire. I didn't know how he did it exactly but he did.

So when he stood beside me at the altar during the mating ceremony, he wasn’t marrying but punishing a crime.

And I was the sentence wrapped in silk.