CHAPTER 215
A full week had bled away into the frozen Northern horizon, and with it, the rigid, icy walls between the former prince and the forgotten outcast had finally begun to crack.
The winter garden had become a battleground of a different kind. For seven straight days, the quiet sanctuary of the glass enclosure had been filled with the sounds of rough breathing, the sharp crunch of gravel beneath heavy boots, and the low, heavy thrum of shifting auras colliding in the freezing air.
Isabella still hadn't shifted. The full transformation remained tantalizingly out of reach, locked behind whatever psychological barrier.
But she was no longer drowning in the suffocating frustration that had paralyzed her a week ago. There was improvement. Real, tangible improvement.
For the first time in her life since she found out she wasn't just wolfless, Isabella could actually feel the beast.
