Chapter Thirty-Seven
Cassandra was angry. Unreasonably so. She held the book the old witch had given her in her hands, flipping through the pages in frustration. The more she read, the less she understood. She took a deep breath and closed the book, massaging her temples as she felt the beginnings of a headache coming on.
Things were becoming different. The power scales were shifting, and she knew that if she did nothing about it soon, she would cease to have any real importance, any real influence. With each day that passed, she felt an increasing amount of hatred towards Isabelle. She could not believe that she would turn out to be that powerful; she could not believe that the moon goddess would choose her...select her. After all, Cassandra was stronger, faster, wiser...more beautiful.
She sighed and rose to her feet, deciding that she needed to burn out the anger in her veins.
She sighed heavily and stepped into the evening sun, dressed in a tracksuit. She looked up at the sky, appreciating its beauty, and then began her walk to the training ground. She needed to blow steam.
As she walked, she could not push the words of the witch out of her mind. She knew that the only reason Khalil had chosen her was because she was powerful. He had promised her that they would not last. He had promised her that she would be the next luna, that she would bear his mark, bear his children. But now, it was beginning to look like he lied; he was beginning to renege on his word.
Cassandra would not have that. She had given so much to get to where they were. The atrocities that she had committed sometimes haunted her. She had gone too far to stop. She must see it through. She would get what she wanted.
A small smile played on her lips as she stood at the entrance to the training field. She knew what she had to do. She would force that bond to be broken even if it killed her. She took off her jacket and began her training, letting out all of her pent-up anger and frustration into the sandbag and the warriors around her. All around her, the people buzzed, talking about the mark on Isabelle’s neck and placing bets on how long before she becomes their luna. She could hear the adoration in her voice, the praise of her grace and composure. Cassandra’s hands balled into fists, and her eyes glazed over in fury. At that moment, there was nothing she wanted more than to wrap her hands around Isabelle’s throat and watch her as she pleaded for her life with her eyes. Her hatred grew, and this time she didn’t try to do anything to stop it.
Just then, her eyes caught Isabelle as she strolled down the street and past the training ground, taking the footpath that led to the forest. She was dressed in a pretty sundress, and her hair flowed down her back, with a small smile playing on her lips. She looked peaceful and happy. The direct opposite of what she was feeling.
Without thinking, she turned and left the training ground, following stealthily behind Isabelle, her hair plastered to her face with sweat, her chest rising and falling as she drew in gulps of air, her eyes razor-focused on the image a few feet in front of her. She followed her, hiding behind trees until they arrived at the lake. The place where things had changed.
Isabelle sighed heavily and took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the clean air that surrounded her, smiling to herself as she heard the birds chirping in the trees and the soft waves of the water. She knew that she had been followed. She knew who. Her smile widened. Before, she would have been afraid...terrified, unable to face the bitch.
But Isabelle had changed. Things were different now. She knew who she was.
“How long do you plan to hide yourself and follow me around like a lost puppy?” she asked, her voice ringing proud and strong through the forest. “If you wanted to be my bodyguard so bad, I am sure that Khalil would have been ecstatic to have you in his employ.”
Cassandra’s breath caught in her throat as she realized that she had been caught. Yes, she knew how strong Isabelle was, and yet she would never have thought that a wimp like Isabelle would be able to detect her presence without her showing herself.
Oh, she was angry afresh.
Cassandra stepped out from behind a tree and closed the distance between them, coming face to face with an unbothered Isabelle. Isabelle cocked her head to the side and regarded her with amusement, dancing in her eyes.
That smile only served to irritate Cassandra further. She hated her afresh. How calm and collected she looked, how strong she looked, how she now exuded grace and power.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Cassandra hissed, her hands balled into fists, and her fingers dug painfully into the palm of her hand.
Isabelle cocked a brow and stared down her nose at Cassandra. “Is there a reason you followed me out here?” she countered, ignoring Cassandra’s question. “Do you not have better things to do?”
Cassandra gritted her teeth; the subtle disrespect didn’t escape her. She dug her nails harder into the palm of her hand until her blood dripped down to the soft ground.
“You must be happy,” Cassandra stated, her voice terrifyingly calm. She stared down at the ground, watching her blood drop to the ground and disappear into the moist sand like it was never there.
Cassandra gritted her teeth again as she thought to herself that that was what Isabelle was trying to do to her. Make her insignificant, erase her presence...like she was never there.
Isabelle’s brows drew down in confusion at the change of tone, but she was not fazed. If anything, she was amused. “Well, as happy as I can be at the moment,” Isabelle replied. “Why? Is that a problem for you, my dear?” she asked in a mocking tone.
Cassandra chuckled and looked up at Isabelle, her eyes filled with fury and hatred, and something else that Isabelle could not name. Something terrifying.
“You must feel special having two of the most powerful alphas in the world fighting over you,” she continued, her lips curled up in a sneer.
A small smile played at the corner of Isabelle’s lips. She was thoroughly enjoying Cassandra’s anger, the pain that was visible in her eyes. Oh, how she loved the smell of the fear that was hidden deep within her.
“Please, Cassandra, do not tell me you followed me all the way here to tell me what I already know...” she drawled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Surely, you must have better things to do than lust after Khalil like a lust puppy?”
Isabelle’s words pierced through the last bit of control she had. Cassandra swore loudly and lunged at Isabelle. In that moment, it didn’t matter that she knew who she was or that she knew that she was stronger than her. All that mattered was that she wanted her pound of flesh; she could not take the insults anymore.
Isabelle smiled as she watched Cassandra half shift into her wolf. Before, she would have been afraid; she would have folded and been paralyzed in fear, she would have shivered in anguish. But now it was different. She was different. Isabelle caught Cassandra’s fist in her hand, smiling as she watched a somewhat shocked Cassandra stare at her in shock.
Her smile widened as her grip on Cassandra’s hand tightened until she heard a loud crack, enjoying the screams of fear and terror that poured in abundance from Cassandra’s lips. Isabelle chuckled and released Cassandra’s arm, watching as she fell to her knees, holding her broken arm closely to her chest, her breaths coming in short, hard pants.
“You fucking bitch!” she hissed.
Isabelle cocked her brow and stared down her nose at her. “I strongly suggest that you watch your mouth,” she said. “I would hate for you to lose use of what remaining limbs you have.”
Cassandra looked up at her. She had known that she was strong, after all, what was to be expected from a daughter of the moon? But she had not expected the great gap in their strengths. She had not expected that her hand would be snapped like it was no stronger than a twig.
“That is rather unfortunate,” Isabelle said. “You should learn to control yourself better.”
And with those parting words, Isabelle turned and retraced her steps, leaving Cassandra on the floor with her hand to her chest, writhing in pain, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. In that moment, she hated herself. She hated how small she felt, how she had been belittled, made to feel insignificant. She had placed herself on a pedestal, and now she had been unceremoniously toppled.
Cassandra gritted her teeth, anger rising and overflowing in her soul. In that moment, it wasn’t enough for her to have Khalil, for her to become his luna and equal. No. She wanted more than that. She wanted her to become destitute. She wanted to be solely responsible for her downfall, to see her in pain and agony. She didn’t care about the risks or the consequences. She would do everything the witch said and then some.
In that moment, she decided... no matter what it took...she would have Isabelle Zanotti’s head!