Mystery At The Academy: His She-wolf

SORAYA 

“She does it better than you.”

The one sentence that haunted me my whole life. 

People say a home should feel like a sanctuary. 

Mine felt more like a stage where I played the role of the forgettable extra.

This morning, the Valeo household was already thudding with Bianca’s theatrics. Our mother fussed over her hair, smoothing it with a tenderness I used to pretend I had not noticed.

I hovered near the hallway, pulling at the sleeves of my oversized sweater. 

If I made myself small enough, maybe they would not notice I existed when I stubbed my toe or something. 

That strategy usually worked.

Usually.

“Bianca, stand by the window,” our mother said. “The light definitely makes your eyes look brighter.”

Bianca smiled smugly. 

“Of course it does. Everything loves me.”

I turned away, pretending to check my phone. 

Looking at her flaunting all her perfections could be exhausting sometimes. 

No sooner than twelve seconds after I turned did an incident occur. 

The white ceramic vase.

It sat on the center table being one of my mother’s prized possessions. Bianca had been twirling, showing off the dress she planned to wear for move-in day at the Academy. 

She spun too wide and the vase toppled, crashing to the ground in bits.

She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. 

“Oh. My. Goddess.”

My heart thudded. I knew exactly how this would go. I could have written the dialogue myself.

“Soraya!” Mother had her hands on her waist, her brow pulled into an angry snarl. 

There it was.

Not Bianca.

Never Bianca.

“Why would you do that?” she demanded “You know how valuable that was.”

"M-mom, I—"

"I bought that vase from one of the most expensive museums in all, and I mean, all of Haulbrook."

I looked down at the broken pieces on the ground. I looked at Bianca and all she did was pout. 

“I did not touch it,” I murmured.

“Do not lie,” my father added, pinching the bridge of his nose like my truth was a personal inconvenience. “Your carelessness is exhausting, in fact, I've had it up to here with you.”

“Papa...I did not break it,” I repeated.

My father’s expression shifted into disappointment. 

“Soraya, do not make this difficult,” my mother said. “Just apologize.”

My mother waited with her arms folded. 

“I said I did not break it. I was standing right here, I wasn't even near enough to touch it.”

“That is enough,” my father snapped. “This is exactly what I mean. You never take accountability for your actions, never!.”

My throat tightened. 

All I had done was take accountability. For both my actions and that of Bianca's. 

“I am telling the truth,” I tried again, "I swear by the moon goddess, I was standing right here."

Bianca sniffled dramatically. “Mom, Dad, please stop. Soraya probably did not mean to. She gets clumsy when she is nervous.”

My mother’s face softened at Bianca’s performance.

“Oh, sweetheart, I know. You always try so hard to defend her. You are such a gentle soul.”

A gentle soul.

The girl who actually broke the vase.

The girl who got praised for her lies.

My heart hammered in my ears. I felt something raw pushing up behind my ribs, begging to be acknowledged and released. But their eyes were on me, waiting for me to fold like I always did.

Because that was what Soraya Valeo did. 

I swallowed the hurt, I swallowed the truth and ultimately, I had swallowed myself.

“Soraya,” my mother said. “Apologize.”

I wanted to shout until the ceiling tore open and swallowed us whole. But anger never served me well. In this house, my anger was proof I was the problem.

So I inhaled deeply feeling utterly defeated.

“I am sorry.” 

"Mean it!" Father yelled. 

I swallowed.

"I'm sorry for nudging the vase, and lying." 

"Good."

He nodded, sounding satisfied. 

My mother uncrossed her arms like I had finally earned the right to breathe. Bianca smiled, subtly winking at me.

“Starlight,” my mother said, patting Bianca’s shoulder. "Let us finish preparing for the Academy.”

I blinked rapidly. Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill, and so I turned toward the hallway before anyone could see me cry.

Just breathe, Soraya.

Just hold it together.

But the tears were unrelenting. I blinked hard, trying to force them back. My vision was still blurry when I heard footsteps behind me. 

The she-devil herself.

She leaned casually against the wall beside me.

“Wow,” she snickered. “That was pathetic. Even for you.”

I swallowed but said nothing.

She tilted her head, studying me the way a hunter might study a trapped animal. 

“You really are a weak wolf, Soraya. I wonder how it feels. Being born an alpha with the abilities of a dying pup.”

Her smile widened. “No strength. No pheromones. No power at all. Just sad little tears and big sweaters to hide behind.”

I felt the sting in my chest, but she was not finished.

“You know what the saddest part is? You try, you really do. You try so hard that you make yourself sick.” She cackled.

“Remember the last time you pushed yourself? You passed out. Maybe the Moon Goddess messed up when she made you.”

My hands curled into a fist.

“Aww,” she cooed. “Are you upset? Going to cry again? Going to stammer and say you did not break the vase?”

“You did. Fuck, Bianca you know you did and you did not sa—.”

She rolled her eyes. “And? Who is going to believe you? Mom? Dad? They have already decided who the good twin is. Hint." She twirled a strand of hair around her finger. "It is not you.”

She leaned closer. “Do yourself a favor and stay exactly where you belong. Because every time you try to be more, you embarrass yourself.”

She gave me a gentle tap under my chin.

Mock affection. 

“Chin up, sister. Try not to cry too loudly. It disturbs my prime time.”

I wanted to retort back. To say something that would hurt her as much as everything she said hurt me. But the doorbell rang and both our eyes widened.

He was here.