Chapter 2

Junie's POV

"Maxwell, don't be mad at Juliet, this is my fault, I made her upset..." Melody sobs against Dad's chest, then shoots Mom a smug little smirk the second Dad can't see her face.

Dad kisses her forehead like his heart's breaking, then turns to Mom, his voice going cold.

"You've really disappointed me. Until you figure out how to be a decent mate, you can stay home and think it over."

Dad takes Melody to the hospital that same day.

He's gone for days, and it's just me looking after Mom, who's still weak and recovering from the miscarriage. When he finally comes back, he makes a decision so crazy I can't even believe it. He wants to move Melody into our house.

"Melody got hurt because of you. I'm not comfortable with her living alone. And she's pregnant, it's her ex's baby, the guy took off on her, she needs someone to look after her." Dad stands in the living room, laying it down like it's not up for discussion.

Mom sits in her wheelchair, her body still nowhere near recovered from the miscarriage. She doesn't even have the strength left to get angry, just looks at him, cold. "Maxwell, this is our home. You want to move the person who killed our baby in here, and make me watch her carry that baby to term, right in front of me?"

Dad frowns, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Juliet, stop being so vicious all the time. The baby in her belly didn't do anything wrong. You of all people, after losing your own baby, should understand how precious a life is. Give up the master bedroom. It gets the best light, south-facing, perfect for Melody."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. Dad wants Mom to move out of the master bedroom, the room that's supposed to be hers, and hand it over to that woman?

"Dad, you can't do this to Mom!" I run over and grab his leg, crying, begging him to stop.

Dad just peels me off, cold. "Junie, this is grown-up business, stay out of it. Your mom's not thinking straight right now, don't go picking up her bad habits."

And just like that, Melody moves into our house like she owns the place.

She bosses the household robot around like she's the lady of the house, takes over Mom's favorite spot on the couch, and rips out every plant Mom grew on the balcony, replacing them all with white roses.

Whenever Dad's home, she puts on the whole helpless act.

"Maxwell, my stomach hurts a little, can you rub it for me?"

"Maxwell, this juice is too sour, I want the kind you squeeze yourself."

And Dad, a man who runs a company and doesn't blink making million-dollar calls, ties on an apron and waits on her hand and foot like the perfect husband. He even locks me in the dark, smaller bedroom and won't let me out, just because Melody complains once that I'm too loud.

Mom watches all of it happen. She stops fighting, stops crying. She just sits by the window for hours at a time, staring out at the traffic below, her eyes going emptier every day.

That weekend, Dad heads to the office early.

With the house finally quiet, Mom digs out her old spellbook, the one that's been collecting dust, and pulls out the magic crystal her grandmother left her.

She sits by the window, trying to pick her magic back up after letting it sit untouched for so long.

But the quiet doesn't last.

"Well, look who it is. Our precious lady of the house." Melody waddles over, her belly leading the way, looking down at Mom in the wheelchair. "Kicked out of the master bedroom and you're still in the mood to play with rocks?"

Mom ignores her. But the more she gets ignored, the uglier Melody's face gets.

She snatches the crystal right out of Mom's hand and smashes it on the floor.

"A woman who can't even hold onto her own mate, what's the point of hanging onto junk like this? Squatting in the master bedroom, playing wife when you're not even his mate anymore, you think you deserve any of that?"

The crystal shatters with a sharp crack, and Mom's pupils go tight.

That crystal was the last thing Mom had left of her grandmother in this world.

A second later, Mom's hand snaps out and slaps Melody across the face.

"You!" Melody freezes, stunned.

She grabs her cheek, stumbling back a step, the shock on her face turning fast into fury.

She's a white wolf, born carrying volatile fire magic.

And right now, with her emotions completely out of control, that magic goes off with her, catching the curtains and the couch on fire in seconds.

Even Melody looks terrified, her face draining white. But she can't rein the magic back in, and all she can do is stand there and watch the fire eat through the living room.

An alarm rips through the entire building.

"Help! Somebody help!" Melody scrambles for the door, half-crawling.

The fire's already spreading into the living room, and the crystal chandelier overhead lets out a cracking sound.

Mom, still too weak to stand, falls out of the wheelchair and crawls toward me.

"Junie! Come here, now!" Mom screams.