Seven days later, Juliana Capulet stood in the departure lounge of San Francisco International, her hands trembling as she clutched a fake ID, her grandmother's emergency credit card, and a one-way ticket to Paris.
This was crazy. Absolutely nuts.
But so was the idea of spending her whole life married to a stranger just because her father insisted it was "for her own good."
The plan had been months in the making, pieced together in stolen moments between tight schedules of family events and constant supervision. The fake ID came courtesy of an expensive forger who specialized in helping supernatural kids slip away from family drama. She'd mapped out a route to make herself nearly impossible to trace. And, most importantly, she knew once she stepped on that plane, there was no turning back.
The boarding call for Air France Flight 83 echoed through the terminal. Closing her eyes, Juliana saw her mother's face and heard her words again: I would run as far and as fast as my wolf could carry me, and I would never look back.
I'm running for both of us, Mama.
"Boarding Group A, please proceed to Gate 67."
Her legs wobbled as she rose and joined the line, a line that marched toward her freedom, toward a life she'd dared to reclaim from the people trying to write her story for her.
She was going to Paris. She would sit in cafés, get lost in museums, savor real pastries, and figure out who Juliana Capulet really wanted to be. She was going to...
"Jules."
The voice hit her like a punch in the gut. Heart hammering, she slowly turned and found Tybalt, standing just ten feet away: tired, rumpled, and looking like he'd been driving all night. His eyes were a mix of disappointment and something that might have been pride.
"How?" His voice was barely more than a whisper.
"Credit card alerts. Mom's emergency fund has been flagged since she passed last year." He gave a sad, knowing smile. "Also, you're not as sneaky as you think. I've been following your research for weeks."
The fight drained out of her. Of course he knew. Tybalt made it his mission to keep tabs on anything that could threaten the family, including her desperate attempts at independence.
"Are you going to drag me home?"
"I'm going to ask you to come home. That's different."
He moved slowly, hands open, like she was a skittish animal ready to bolt.
"Jules, talk to me. Why run off to a foreign country instead of talking to your own family?"
"Because talking doesn't work!" The frustration she'd held in for years poured out. "Every time I try to share what I want, I get a lecture about duty, safety, and what's best for the pack. No one cares about what I actually want!"
"I care," he said quietly, intensity in his tone. "Your happiness means more to me than any political alliance."
"Then let me go."
"I can't. You know I can't."
People nearby were starting to stare: classic airport drama, a young woman falling apart in public, tangled in emotions with the guy who looked like her boyfriend.
"Final call for Air France Flight 83 to Charles de Gaulle Airport."
She glanced at the gate, then back at Tybalt. Freedom was just steps away, but it felt like a million miles.
"If I come home, will you help me convince Papa to call off the engagement?"
"I'll try. But Jules, you have to understand: this alliance isn't just about you. It's about every wolf in this pack. If we seem weak or divided, our enemies will pounce."
"So I'm supposed to throw away my whole life for a maybe, someday safety?"
"You have to make choices that protect the people you love. That's what adults do."
The gate agent called again, more urgently. Soon, the plane would leave, her chance gone.
"Tybalt," she said soft, "what if there's another way? What if I could serve the pack and still keep some say in my life?"
He blinked, surprised. "What are you thinking?"
"Moonrise Academy."
He was silent a beat. "The elite boarding school?"
"I could go there instead of the engagement announcement. Learn the Luna skills, make connections, prove to Papa I'm serious. Give Lorenzo and me time to actually get to know each other before making it official." The lie came easier than expected. "Let him think I need time to shed my 'impractical romantic notions' and learn to honor the Escalus alliance."
It was shady, manipulative, and exactly the kind of political play Tybalt respected: protective yet strategic.
"The gate's closing, Jules."
One last look at the plane that should've been her escape. Then back to her cousin's worried face. "Will you help me?"
"I'll try. But if you run again..."
"I won't. I'll go to Moonrise. I'll learn to be the perfect Luna and make the decision that's best for the pack." The words left a bitter taste, but they were what he needed.
Walking back through the terminal, Juliana said goodbye to the girl who almost had the guts to choose Paris over duty. The girl who stepped into Moonrise Academy would be someone else: someone who understood the only way to win was to play the game better than anyone else.
But deep inside, the girl who dreamed of Paris wasn't gone. Just buried beneath silk, smiles, and quiet rebellion.
And she was done being underestimated.