Chapter 5

• The words hung in the air between us, heavy and suffocating.
• I stared at him, searching for any sign that he was exaggerating, that it was just his temper talking. But his eyes were cold and steady, and I realized with a sickening realiztion that he meant every single word. This wasn't a threat made in the heat of the moment. It was a promise.
• He held my gaze for a few more seconds, then straightened up and ran a hand through his hair like we'd just been discussing what to have for breakfast.
• "We have dinner at your parents' place tomorrow," he said, his voice already shifting back to something casual. "I will see you then.”
• Then he walked out, and I heard the shower turn on a minute later.
• I stood there in my study, surrounded by the torn pieces of the bond dissolution papers, and I felt my wolf go completely still inside me. She wasn't pacing anymore. She wasn't anxious. She was quiet in the way a predator goes quiet right before it strikes.
• He had no idea who he was dealing with.
• --
• The Morgan estate looked like something out of a dark fairy tale as we pulled through the gates the next evening.
• I had grown up in a different house entirely, with adoptive parents who actually wanted me. The Morgans hadn't come for me until I was seventeen, and by then Vanessa had already claimed every corner of their hearts. I was just the biological daughter they'd misplaced. The one who didn't fit.
• Damien's hand found my thigh as he parked the car, offering me reassurance.
• The dining room was suffocating with the scent of roasted meat and tension. My father Richard sat at the head of the table like a king on his throne, his silver hair swept back and his jaw set in its permanent expression of disapproval. My mother Celeste perched beside him, while draped in silk and pearls.
• My brothers were already seated. Julian, the eldest, hadn't looked up from his phone since we walked in. And Kieran sat with his arms crossed, watching me with that familiar sneer he always wore whenever I entered a room.
• I already braced for the night knowing the entire dinner had been scheduled around Vanessa's morning in whatever exotic country she was pretending to study in this month.
• I looked at the spread covering the table. Roast lamb, three kinds of vegetables, fresh bread, an elaborate soup that was slowly going cold. My stomach ached. I'd barely eaten in two days.
• I reached for the bread basket.
• "Don't." My father's voice cracked like a whip. "We wait for your sister."
• "The food is getting cold."
• "Then it gets cold." Celeste's tone dripped with condescension. "Vanessa has been looking forward to this dinner all week. The least you can do is show some patience."
• Julian snorted without looking up. "Patience isn't exactly her strong suit. Remember her mating ceremony? She couldn't even wait for the photographer."
• "That's because the photographer was two hours late," I said flatly.
• "Because you gave him the wrong address." Kieran leaned forward with a mean smile. "Just like you ruin everything else."
• I hadn't given the photographer the wrong address. Vanessa had changed the venue at the last minute and conveniently forgot to tell anyone. But there was no point in arguing. There never was.
• I pulled the bread basket closer anyway and tore off a piece. My hands were trembling slightly, partly from hunger, partly from rage. Kieran moved faster than I expected as his arm swept across the table and knocked the basket into my chest, sending bread rolls scattering across my lap and the table. But that wasn't the worst part. His elbow caught my bowl of soup on the way, and the entire thing flipped onto my stomach.
• I gasped as the hot liquid soaked through my dress and scalded the skin underneath. The pain was immediate and searing.
• "What is wrong with you?" Kieran was on his feet, pointing at me like I was a misbehaving dog. "We have rules in this house. We wait for Vanessa. Why is that so hard for you to understand?"
• No one moved to help me. Celeste examined her manicure, Richard took a sip of wine, while Julian kept scrolling through his phone. Classic them.
• Damien's hand found my shoulder. "That's enough. She's burned—"
• "She's fine." My mother waved dismissively. "The soup wasn't that hot. She's just being dramatic, as usual."
• Something snapped inside me like a bone breaking clean.
• I stood up slowly, ignoring the way the soaked fabric clung to my skin. My wolf was pressing against my chest, her fury bleeding into my own until I couldn't tell where she ended and I began.
• "You want to see dramatic?" My voice came out steady and cold. "I'll show you dramatic."
• I grabbed the hem of my dress and yanked it up to my ribs.
• The scars were impossible to miss. Two thick, jagged lines carved across my lower stomach, the skin around them puckered and silvery even after a long time of healing. The hot soup had turned the surrounding flesh an angry red, making the old wounds look fresh and brutal.
• I waited for horror, for something, but nothing came. My father's jaw locked tight. My mother looked away quickly, and neither of them would meet my eyes. Their guilt slipped through the cracks in their masks. Marcus glanced once at my stomach, then looked away fast, his breath catching.
• They weren't shocked because they cared. That silence spoke volumes, and that was when I finally understood. It wasn't just Kieran and Damien who knew what Vanessa had done to me. They all knew. My parents. My brothers. Every single one of them.
• My family hadn't just failed to protect me. They had chosen my attacker over me, again and again, and they would keep choosing her until the day I died. My heart caught in my throat like a thorn.
• "Put your dress down." Damien grabbed the fabric and yanked it back into place so roughly that it scraped against my burned skin.
• I hissed in pain and shoved him away. "Don't touch me."
• "You need to calm down—"
• The television flickered to life, and suddenly the room transformed. It was like I was not even present there again.
• "Hi Mommy! Hi Daddy! Hi, my super handsome brothers!" Vanessa's voice poured through the speakers like poison. "Oh my goodness, is that Eve? I didn't know you'd be here! What a wonderful surprise!"
• She looked perfect, because she always looked perfect. There were soft waves of hair, flawless makeup, and a cozy designer sweater that probably cost more than most people's rent. She was sitting in what looked like a sunny cafe with a half-eaten croissant on the table in front of her, and just like that, I stopped existing.
• "Sweetheart, you look wonderful!"
• "Are you eating enough? You look thin."
• "We miss you so much, darling."
• Even Damien's attention shifted to the screen. I watched his face soften as he looked at her as his eyes trace her features with an intensity he had never once directed at me. I stood there in my soup-stained dress with my burned skin throbbing beneath the fabric, and I felt like a ghost in my own family.
• I had promised myself I didn't care anymore. That these people weren't worth my pain. But watching every single person who was supposed to love me turn their backs again, it felt like my chest had cracked open. My scars throbbed as my wolf howled with rage inside my skull.
• I wanted to smash that screen into a thousand pieces.
• "Eve?" Vanessa's voice cut through my thoughts. She tilted her head, all fake concern. "Why are you just standing there?" She turned to Damien with a playful pout. "Damien, did you make her mad again? You better be treating my sister right. If not, I'll fly home and teach you a lesson myself!"
• She raised her fist in a cute little threat, all sweetness and charm.
• Damien chuckled and slid his arm around my shoulder. "Of course not. We're doing great. Already trying for a baby, right honey?"
• He looked down at me with warmth that I now knew was nothing but performance. Something hot sparked in my chest. I raised my chin and smiled, slipping my arm through his and leaning close.
• "That's right. Next time you visit, our baby will be calling you Aunt Vanessa."
• Damien stiffened against me. On the screen, Vanessa's smile froze. Her eyes dimmed, the sparkle fading into something harder. She glanced at Damien, her perfect mask cracking just slightly. I lowered my gaze and let myself smirk where no one could see.
• I knew Vanessa. I knew her better than anyone here realized. Her pride ran deep, and so did her ego. Even if she didn't want Damien for herself, she would never stand to see him belong fully to someone else. Especially not me.
• "Damien, congrats to you and Eve." Vanessa's voice recovered quickly, smooth and sweet as honey.
• Damien stared at her. His throat moved as he swallowed, and his voice came out quiet, almost strained. "Thanks."
• But something invisible passed between them, making my stomach turn. I slipped my hand out of Damien's grip and walked away without a word, heading toward the stairs that led to my old room to clean up my wounds since no one cared.
• Behind me, the laughter started up again. It was carefree and sweet, like I had never been there at all. No one noticed I had left and no one definitely cared about the sting on my skin or the burns under my dress. But I cared. And I wasn't about to let another scar claim my body.
• I pushed open the door to my old bedroom and stopped dead in my tracks, the sight before me making my blood run cold.