Isabela POV:
The taxi ride to the airport was a blur of gray highway and rain.
I sat in the back seat, clutching my bag. I had no phone-I had left my pack-issued phone on my bed in the VIP suite. I had only the burner phone my father had sent me, and the plane ticket.
Oneal Territory, the sign on the highway flashed past. You are now leaving.
A physical weight lifted off my shoulders. It was as if gravity had been dialed down. The constant, low-level hum of anxiety that came from living under an Alpha who didn't want you finally ceased.
I arrived at the terminal. It was crowded with humans. For once, their ignorance was a blessing. To them, I wasn't a rejected Omega or a scandalous headline. I was just a girl in a green coat.
I checked in and went through security. I sat at the gate, staring at the screen.
Flight 802 to New York.
On the TV screen mounted on the wall, a news ticker for the Werewolf Network scrolled by.
BREAKING: Alpha Kason Oneal issues statement regarding Pack internal affairs.
I watched, numb, as Kason's face appeared. He stood at a podium, looking solemn.
"Isabela Walker has been struggling with mental health issues for years," Kason told the cameras. "Her obsession with the Alpha bloodline has led to unfortunate incidents. We ask for privacy as we help her seek treatment."
Lies. All lies. He was painting me as the villain to save his stock prices.
"Attention passengers," the intercom crackled. "Flight 802 to New York is now boarding."
I stood up. I didn't look back at the TV. I didn't look back at the city skyline.
I walked down the jet bridge. With every step, I visualized the thin, tattered thread that still connected me to the Oneal Pack.
I reject this life, I thought, focusing my will. I reject the name Oneal. I reject the pain.
I stepped onto the plane.
Snap.
It wasn't a loud sound. It was a feeling, like a rubber band breaking deep in my chest. The connection to the pack lands was severed. The geographical distance and my spiritual intent had done the job.
I sat in my seat by the window. As the plane taxied down the runway, the engines roared to life. We lifted off, climbing through the clouds.
I looked down one last time as the Oneal territory became nothing but a patchwork of green and brown squares, insignificant and small.
"Goodbye, Kason," I whispered.
I reached into my pocket, pulled out the SIM card from the burner phone, and snapped it in half.
I was no longer Isabela the Omega. I was Isabela, the future Luna of the Payne Pack. And I was going to my True Mate.
