**Gaia’s POV**

The eastern gardens fell into a stunned silence after Vincenzo’s words echoed across the torchlit space. The pack members—nobles, warriors, elders—stared between him, Evelyn, and me, their expressions shifting from suspicion to outrage. Isabella still held her phone aloft, the video paused on the damning frame of Evelyn adding drops to my wine. Whispers turned to angry mutters. “She framed the Luna?” “Jealousy gone too far.” “What about Vincenzo? Was he ...