POV: Juliana Capulet
The engagement announcement sat on cream-colored cardstock, embossed with gold lettering that probably cost more than most people's cars.
The Capulet Pack cordially announces the engagement of Juliana Marie Capulet to Lorenzo Escalus, heir to the Eastern Alliance.
I traced the letters with my fingertip, sitting cross-legged on my four-poster bed while rain battered the mansion's windows. Downstairs, I could hear Papa arguing with someone on the phone about territorial boundaries and shipping routes. Always business. Always the pack.
Never about what I actually wanted.
My leather journal lay open beside me, half-finished poetry bleeding across the pages. Words about cages and wings and dreams that died before they could take flight. Melodramatic, maybe, but at seventeen, everything felt like the end of the world.
Especially when your parents sold your future without asking.
"Mija?" Mama's voice drifted through my bedroom door, followed by a soft knock. "May I come in?"
I shoved the journal under my pillow. "It's open."
She entered with her usual grace, dark hair perfectly styled despite the late hour. Luna Maria Capulet never looked anything less than flawless. It was exhausting just watching her maintain the image.
"You've been crying." She sat beside me on the bed, her hand reaching for mine.
"I'm fine."
"Juliana." Her fingers squeezed gently. "Talk to me."
I gestured at the announcement card. "What's there to say? You and Papa have decided my entire future. I'm just the pretty accessory in your political alliance."
Mama's expression flickered with something that looked like regret. She picked up the card, studying it with eyes that had read too many romance novels and lived through too few romances of her own.
"Lorenzo is a good man," she said quietly. "Educated, well-mannered, from an excellent bloodline."
"I don't love him."
"Love comes with time."
"Did it?" The question came out sharper than I intended. "For you and Papa?"
Her silence answered louder than words.
I pulled my hand away, wrapping my arms around my knees. Outside, lightning split the sky, illuminating the manicured gardens that surrounded our compound like beautiful prison walls.
"When I was your age," Mama said slowly, "I wanted to travel the world. Study literature in Paris. Write novels that made people feel something real." She smoothed an invisible wrinkle from her designer dress. "I met your father at a pack summit. He was handsome, powerful, completely smitten. I thought that was enough."
"Was it?"
"Sometimes." She set the announcement card on my nightstand with careful precision. "And sometimes I wonder who I might have become if I'd chosen differently."
My throat tightened. This was the most honest she'd been with me in years.
"Then why are you doing this to me?"
"Because I'm a coward." Her voice cracked slightly. "Because challenging your father means risking everything I've built here. Because sometimes love requires sacrifice, mija, but you should choose your sacrifices wisely."
She stood before I could respond, smoothing her dress again, rebuilding the perfect Luna mask.
"The engagement party is in three days," she said, her tone shifting back to formal. "We'll need to finalize your dress fitting tomorrow."
"What if I say no?"
Mama paused at the door, her back to me. "Your father genuinely believes he's protecting you. That sheltering you shows love. He won't understand refusal as anything other than childish rebellion."
"Maybe I am rebelling."
"Then be smart about it." She glanced over her shoulder, and for just a moment, I saw the girl she used to be. The one who'd wanted Paris and novels and a life beyond pack politics. "Sometimes the best way to win is to appear to lose."
She left before I could ask what she meant.
I grabbed my phone, scrolling through college websites I'd bookmarked in secret. UCLA. Berkeley. Schools far enough from the compound that I could breathe. But Papa would never approve. Capulet daughters didn't go to human universities. They stayed home, learned Luna responsibilities, married appropriate Alpha heirs.
They definitely didn't run away.
The thought planted itself in my mind like a seed.
What if I did?
Ten hours later, I stood in San Francisco International Airport with a backpack and every dollar I'd saved from birthday gifts over the years.
My hands shook as I stared at the departure board. New York. Seattle. Denver. Cities where I could disappear. Start over. Be someone other than the Capulet princess locked in her tower.
"Boarding for Flight 847 to New York will begin in fifteen minutes."
I clutched my ticket tighter. This was insane. Reckless. Everything I'd been raised not to be.
It was also the first real choice I'd ever made.
"Juliana."
My blood turned to ice.
I spun around to find Tybalt standing ten feet away, his dark eyes blazing with barely controlled fury. He wore his enforcer jacket, the Capulet crest prominent on the shoulder. Several travelers gave him a wide berth, instinctively sensing the predator beneath the human skin.
"How did you find me?" My voice came out smaller than I wanted.
"I've been tracking your phone since you were twelve." He moved closer, his presence commanding despite the crowded terminal. "Did you really think you could just leave?"
"I'm seventeen. I can make my own choices."
"Not when those choices endanger the entire pack." He kept his voice low, controlled, but I heard the growl underneath. "Do you have any idea what your disappearance would do to the alliance negotiations? To your father's position? To our family's reputation?"
Guilt twisted in my stomach. I hadn't thought about the political consequences. Hadn't let myself think about anything except escape.
"I can't marry Lorenzo."
"You haven't even met him."
"I don't need to." I gripped my backpack straps. "I know exactly what that marriage means. No college. No career. No life beyond producing the next generation of Capulet heirs."
Tybalt's expression softened slightly. He'd been my protector since we were kids, teaching me to climb trees and catch fireflies before his enforcer training turned him serious and dangerous.
"Jules." He used my childhood nickname. "I know this feels impossible right now. But running away isn't the answer."
"Then what is?"
He glanced around the terminal, calculating exits and witnesses. Finally, he sighed.
"Come home. Talk to your parents. If you really can't accept the engagement, we'll find another solution."
"Papa won't listen."
"Then make him listen." Tybalt stepped closer, his hand gentle on my shoulder. "You're stronger than you think. But you need to fight smart, not run scared."
The boarding announcement echoed overhead. My flight. My escape. My one chance at freedom.
I looked at the departure gate, then back at my cousin.
"If I go home, they'll just lock me up tighter."
"If you run, they'll never trust you again." His grip tightened. "Please, Jules. Let me help you find a better way."
I wanted to believe him. Desperately.
But I also knew that going home meant surrendering. Accepting that my life would never really belong to me.
Still, Tybalt's eyes held genuine concern. Love, even. He thought he was saving me.
He didn't understand he was just returning me to a prettier cage.
"Fine." I let my backpack drop. "But I'm not marrying Lorenzo."
Relief flooded his features. "We'll figure it out."
He was lying. Or maybe he actually believed it. Either way, the result would be the same.
The drive home took two hours. Tybalt didn't lecture or scold. He just drove in silence while I stared out the window, watching my brief taste of freedom disappear in the rearview mirror.
When we pulled through the compound gates, I expected Papa to be waiting with fury and punishment.
Instead, both my parents stood on the front steps, looking more worried than angry.
"Juliana." Papa's voice cracked as I climbed out of the car. He pulled me into a crushing hug. "Thank God. When we realized you were gone..."
"I'm fine." I stood stiff in his embrace.
"We need to talk." Mama's expression was carefully neutral. "Inside. All of us."
The family meeting happened in Papa's study, surrounded by pack history and territorial maps. I sat in the leather chair across from his massive desk, feeling like a criminal awaiting sentencing.
"You tried to run away." Papa paced behind his desk, his Alpha energy filling the room. "On the eve of the most important alliance our pack has made in decades."
"I don't want to marry a stranger."
"Lorenzo is an excellent match. His pack controls the entire Eastern seaboard. The alliance would secure our position for generations."
"What about what I want?"
"You're seventeen." His voice hardened. "You don't know what you want."
"Vincent." Mama's quiet word stopped his pacing. "Perhaps we should consider Juliana's feelings."
"Her feelings?" He turned to her, incredulous. "Maria, she nearly destroyed months of negotiations because of childish romanticism."
"I'm sitting right here," I said.
They both ignored me.
"She's scared," Mama continued. "Overwhelmed. Maybe we pushed too fast."
"The Eastern Alliance won't wait forever."
"Then let them wait." Mama stood, moving to stand beside my chair. Her hand rested on my shoulder in silent support. "Our daughter's happiness should matter more than political convenience."
Papa stared at her like she'd grown a second head. In eighteen years of marriage, Mama had never contradicted him publicly.
"What are you suggesting?" His tone held warning.
"Moonrise Academy." Mama's fingers squeezed my shoulder. "Let her finish her senior year there. Learn proper Luna responsibilities. Meet other pack heirs. If she and Lorenzo are truly meant to be, the time apart will prove it."
I twisted to look up at her, confused. This wasn't what I expected.
Papa frowned. "Moonrise is for wolves who need... additional guidance."
"Exactly." Mama's smile was pure political calculation. "Juliana clearly needs to overcome her impractical romantic notions. Learn to value duty over fantasy. The academy specializes in preparing future pack leaders."
I understood then. This was her version of help. Sending me away wasn't punishment. It was escape disguised as education.
"She'll be exposed to other packs," Papa said slowly. "Including Montagues."
"She'll be supervised by excellent faculty," Mama countered. "And Tybalt can monitor the situation from his position on campus security."
Wait, what?
Tybalt cleared his throat from his position by the door. "I've already been assigned there as an enforcer-in-training. I can watch over her."
The trap was laid perfectly. Papa wanted me educated in pack politics. Mama wanted me to have space to breathe. Tybalt wanted to keep me safe. And I just wanted to be anywhere except here.
"Fine." Papa's agreement came with conditions written in his frown. "One year at Moonrise. You'll learn proper Luna responsibilities. Study pack law and diplomacy. And you'll seriously consider the alliance with Lorenzo."
"And if I don't want to marry him after the year?"
"Then we'll discuss alternatives." His tone made clear he didn't believe that moment would come. "But I expect you to approach this education with maturity and respect for pack traditions."
In other words, come back ready to accept your fate.
"I'll go." The words tasted like surrender and victory mixed together. "When do I leave?"
"Ten days." Mama's relief was visible. "We'll make the arrangements."
I nodded and stood, desperate to escape the study before they could add more conditions.
"Juliana." Papa's voice stopped me at the door. "You are the future of our bloodline. Your safety is everything. Don't forget that."
I looked back at him, at the man who loved me enough to cage me but not enough to free me.
"I won't forget," I said quietly.
I just didn't promise to accept it.
That night, I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling while thunder rolled across the northern California hills.
Ten days until Moonrise Academy.
Ten days until I'd be surrounded by other wolves, other packs, other possibilities.
The Montague pack would be there. Papa's ancient enemies. Tybalt's constant warnings echoed in my head about their treachery and violence.
But I'd also heard stories about the Montague heir. A boy barely older than me, raised to lead, trapped by expectations just like I was.
Maybe everyone in our world was trapped in one way or another.
I pulled out my journal and started writing. Not poetry this time, but a list of everything I wanted to learn, to experience, to become. A girl who made her own choices. Who fell in love because she wanted to, not because politics demanded it. Who maybe, possibly, found someone who understood what it meant to be born into a role you never asked for.