Chapter 3

Silas froze, the bone-crushing grip on my wrist slipping just a fraction.

A flicker of panic flashed in his eyes. But he clamped his jaw shut, a muscle feathering at his cheek as the icy, unyielding mask of the Alpha slammed back into place.

"Enough, Aria! Drop this insane act!" he barked, his explosive fury a desperate shield to mask his guilt. "This hysterical, irrational display of yours truly makes me wonder if pity-marking you was the biggest mistake of my life."

A hollow, bloodless smile stretched across my lips as I choked back the burning prickle of tears.

You didn't have to wonder anymore, Silas. And you certainly didn't need to weaponize our mate bond to fake your devotion.

Once tomorrow came and that single drop of potion slipped past my lips, the mating bond would be severed. We would be nothing to each other. Forever.

Stripped of the protective cloak of his Alpha scent, I was completely vulnerable. My own parents and the rest of the pack didn't hesitate; they hurled vicious curses at me, chasing me out of the room like a rabid, unwanted stray.

I limped to the sterile isolation of the washroom, every step sending sharp spikes of pain up my battered back.

Leaning heavily against the sink to keep my trembling legs upright, I turned on the faucet and scrubbed at my skin with freezing water, watching it wash away the grime and the dried blood from where they had thrown me to the floor earlier.

Moments later, the heavy wooden door swung open. Elara leaned heavily against the doorframe, arms casually crossed over her chest.

The fragile, trembling mother who had just been weeping in the birthing room was gone. In her place stood a woman radiating arrogant cruelty, her eyes glittering with the venomous malice of a coiled viper.

"My sweet sister," she purred, a cruel smirk twisting her lips. "How does it feel? Reliving the thrill of being spat on and treated like pack dirt? I imagine the taste is just as bitter the second time around."

She let out a grating, mocking chuckle. "Oh, look at that glare... you look like you want to rip my throat out. Let me guess—you finally figured it out? You know that Silas was the one who carved your chest open. He reached right in and ripped your inner wolf from your soul while you were still breathing, just to hand it to me."

My body locked up. My fingers dug so hard into the porcelain edge to support my broken weight that my joints ached.

Elara fed on my reaction, her smile widening into something truly sadistic. "And please, tell me you didn't actually believe that dragging your broken, wolfless shell around would make Mom and Dad feel an ounce of guilt?"

"Let me let you in on a little secret: that rogue attack years ago? Mom and Dad gave it their seal of approval. They conspired directly with your precious mate to design the perfect, lethal trap specifically for you."

"After all, how could they bear the thought of me never being able to bear pups? To ensure I could carry the purest, most dominant Alpha heir, someone had to be sacrificed. And who better than my pathetic, useless older sister?"

"Honestly, I really should be thanking you. If my body hadn't been nourished by your pure twin bloodline, my pup would never have been born so massive and strong."

A suffocating wave of despair locked its invisible hands around my throat.

So even my parents knew. My Alpha mate. Every single one of them had conspired in the dark, callously reducing me to nothing more than a vessel—a sacrificial blood bag meant to sustain her child.

"How could you do this..." The words tore through my clenched teeth, my voice a broken, wet rasp. "Aren't you terrified of invoking the Moon Goddess's wrath? Of cursing that filthy bloodline you prize so much?!"

Elara let out an icy, derisive scoff.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a small glass vial and popped the cork. The heavy, metallic stench of blood, laced with the sharp, acidic burn of Wolfsbane, instantly choked the small room.

Without breaking eye contact, she upended the vial, pouring the toxic concoction—potent enough to melt through a werewolf's flesh—straight down her own bare legs.

The sickening hiss of blistering skin filled the air, yet her smile only grew more deranged.

"A curse? Oh, Aria." Her voice was a dark whisper. "If Silas didn't explicitly need to keep you breathing so we could drain your blood to stop my new wolf from rejecting me, do you truly believe a crippled, wolfless pariah like you would be allowed within a mile of his territory?"

"Your only purpose in this pathetic life is to be my personal battery. Now, keep your eyes wide open. Watch just how feral your mate will get to protect me."

The very second the words left her lips, the cruel smirk vanished.

As the horrifying crackle of burning flesh grew louder, the caustic reek of Wolfsbane and boiling blood assaulted my nose, making my stomach heave.

Elara threw her frail-looking body onto the floor, directly into the bubbling puddle of toxic blood. Clutching her abdomen, she let out a piercing, bloodcurdling shriek of pure, fabricated terror that shattered the silence of the clinic:

"Silas! It burns... Aria, please, don't! Somebody help me—!"