Chapter 4

　　Kiara:

　　"Kim… you can't leave me." The memory of that night dragged me screaming back to consciousness.

　　I bolted upright in bed, clutching my shoulder where the Lycan had sunk his teeth. The pain ached so much, it felt as if the bite had branded itself into my soul. My body trembled violently. Sweat soaked the sheets. For one terrifying moment, I was back at the borders of Ashmount. The thought of almost being assaulted again and the Lycan's deadly eyes.

　　And then reality hits me hard. This room was not the border. It was painfully familiar.

　　The star-patterned gauze swept around me as lanterns filtered through the room, reflecting beautiful stars… a sight me and Kim loved to watch before we fell asleep. The walls bore the same paintings as I remembered from four years ago. The soft mahogany stylish bed, the small desk where Kim and I used to draw maps carving out pack territories. This was our old room in Ashmount palace, the place we once shared before we fled for our lives.

　　I was home and my sister was never coming back.

　　My heart perked up as I heard strange voices outside the door.

　　"Your Highness, she's still unconscious, though I must speak plainly." The woman's voice was low and hesitant.

　　"The girl's condition—the bruising, the state of her body… it is clear she has been violated. Multiple times. The scent of several males still clings to her skin, even after we cleaned her. She bears no mating mark, yet her body shows signs of… repeated forced entry."

　　A heavy silence followed.

　　The woman continued, voice trembling slightly. "She's a delicate case, someone with no wolf to aid in her healing. Her wounds are closing far too slowly. The fever might return, and the risk of infection remains high. I strongly recommend she be moved to the royal hospital for proper monitoring and treatment. Without her wolf, she may not…"

　　"Enough." My father's voice cut through the air.

　　"I will not have my palace turned into a spectacle for gossipping servants and nosy pack members. You and your workers will keep your mouth shut about what you saw. If even a whisper of this leaves your mouths, I will have your tongues—and your families heads mounted on the border gates. Do you understand me, healer?"

　　"Y-Yes, your majesty. Forgive me."

　　"Get out. And make sure no one examines her. I will handle my daughter myself."

　　"As you wish, Your Majesty…" I heard footsteps shuffling away quickly.

　　I couldn't stop the tears.

　　Violated. Multiple times. The words echoed in my head. The memories flooded back, and a broken sob escaped before I could swallow it.

　　The door opened. Heavy footsteps echoed across the tiles. I quickly grabbed the sheets and dragged them higher. He was my father, but he couldn't see me. Not like this.

　　Rogue King Victor Morgen stood in the doorway. Tall, with an imposing presence. With a sharp jawline and intimidating cold gray eyes, his black hair neatly tied back, wearing dark red robes embroidered with grey wolf carvings, signifying the crest of Ashmount.

　　He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a deliberate calmness. No embrace, no comfort or welcoming for his surviving daughter. Just measured silence as he studied me, his gaze locked on the bandage stitching covering my shoulder, then lower, as if he could see through the sheets to every mark left on my body.

　　"Dad…" My voice cracked.

　　He said nothing at first. Just studied me with a calculating, emotionless gaze.

　　I broke first.

　　"They… they killed Kim, Dad." The tears fell faster now. "The Alpha heir of Blue River Pack… his friends… they betrayed us. They assaulted me and… and they killed her when she tried to stop them. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't save her."

　　Dad remained silent for a long moment. I thought he might console me, help me take revenge on the ones that did his daughters wrong. But he sighed. It was not the sigh of grief or despair, but of annoyance.

　　"What a terrible waste."

　　"Kim was always the stronger one," he said quietly, almost to himself. "She had the skill to excel in greatness. She was the fire. You, on the other hand, were always the weaker link. The liability."

　　His words landed like stones thrown on me.

　　"How do you feel about being the cause of your sister's death?"

　　His question came unexpectedly. I stared at him, stunned. "What?"

　　You should've been the one dead, and not her. You should have never returned.

　　"Dad… please, that's a mean thing to say to your child. I am already hurting. Don't cast me away. You're my only family now. Please, I need your love, care and fatherly protection."

　　Victor stepped closer, towering over the bed. "What for, Kaira? You're a waste. A freeloader. Protection cost a lot. And how do you want to repay my protection? You are well acquainted with the rules in my Kingdom… there's always a price, family or not. You aren't useful to me, even if I choose to sell you off."

　　I looked at the man before me in disbelief. He was still the same vain, ruthless, heartless creature. Four years away from him didn't even soften his heart at all.

　　"Oh, don't give me that look like I'm the bad guy in your story. You returned to my Kingdom after denouncing it, stripped of dignity, reeking of males scent, carrying a curse that makes unmated males within five miles want to rip your clothes off. You are a danger to my Kingdom and my political alliances. What will people say when they find out my daughter was violated? Not once, but multiple times?"

　　He reached into his robe and pulled out a small, velvet pouch. He tossed it onto the bed. It landed with a soft thud.

　　I stared at it. "What is this?"

　　"A suppressor pendant," he said coldly. "High grade silver-lined with moonstone. It will mask your pheromones and those Alpha scents completely. It will stop the headaches, and not let you walk among male wolves without driving them insane."

　　My heart pounded. A pendant. Safety. I reached for it desperately.

　　Victor's hands snapped out, pinning the pouch under his palm before I could touch it.

　　"You do not get it for free," he said, his voice dropping dangerously and low.

　　"But this was Mom's," I spoke out the words with unyielding confidence. "She left this for me before her passing."

　　"Kaira Morgen," he said in a sharp tone with a hint of annoyance. "You rejected this pack, meaning you rejected every possession your mother left for you."

　　"This… this isn't right. I am your daughter. Your blood, your only child now."

　　"No! That girl died with her sister four years ago. And from this moment onward, you are simply Kaira. A wolfless Omega servant with no parents. You will dress as the servants here, serve my guests. And accept whatever humiliation that comes your way. In exchange, I give you this pendant, a small possession of your mother's belongings and a roof over your head, and the lie that you're my late wife's niece. Not my daughter. Never my daughter."

　　I looked at the pouch, then at his cold unyielding face.

　　If I refused, I would be thrown out. And the world wasn't a good place, hunted by Alphas who could smell my distress.

　　If I accepted, I would become nothing in my own father's kingdom.

　　This man was really the devil and doesn't deserve my tears. Did I really want to trade that route with him?

　　But nothing meant survival. Nothing meant I could execute my plans to get Kim's revenge myself. Pride doesn't kill Alphas; power does.

　　"Fine."

　　"… I accept," I whispered, despite my reluctance.

　　Victor smiled. He lifted his hand, leaving the pendant on the sheet. "Good. Put it on. You have until Thursday to fully begin your duties"

　　"And get ready, Kaira. My stepsons—the Draven Triplets will be coming in two days, and you will serve them personally." He turned toward the door, then paused mid-step.

　　"Oh, and Kaira?" He glanced back, eyes empty of warmth. "Try not to embarrass me this time around. You've already cost me one valuable daughter."

　　The door closed behind him with a soft, final click.

　　I clutched the pendant until the silver dug into my palm, almost drawing blood.

　　Kim… I swear I'll make them all pay. Starting with the man who calls himself my father.