Chapter 5 ALWAYS

BELLATRIX'S POV

I stayed in the woods until the sun was long gone, training until my limbs felt like lead and my lungs burned. I didn't head home until I was sure my parents would be asleep. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to be "gentle."

I walked back through the dark pack-lands, a lone wolf in a territory that didn't want me.

I made my way towards our manor thinking about what will happen at the Pre-Ascension Dinner. 

It was a formal affair where our parents celebrated Clara's upcoming entrance into society. I entered my room through the window. I didn't want to give the parents another chance to bitch about me training.

“Bellatrix! You ungrateful daughter. I know you are back home. Come to the kitchen to help this instant” My mother screamed from downstairs.

I couldn't help but groan. All I wanted was to get a good night's sleep again, apparently, that is too much to ask for.

I made my way downstairs not sparing anyone a glance. The ceremony wasn't about me anyways, before anyone could gossip, I slid into the kitchen.

I stood in the kitchen, leaning against the cold marble counter. I wasn't allowed to sit at the table until the guests arrived, and even then, I knew my place would be at the very end, near the drafts and the shadows.

"Bellatrix, for the love of the Goddess, stop slouching," my mother, Mara, snapped as she adjusted a vase of white lilies. "And go change. That tunic looks like you found it in a dumpster.

"I was in the forest," I said, my voice flat. "It’s clean. It’s just old."

"Old is an understatement," my father, Dennis, said as he walked in, buttoning his formal vest. He looked at me with a mixture of pity and irritation. "You are representing this family, Bellatrix. Clara is out there in a gown that cost three months of pack dues. She looks like a future Luna. And you... you look like an Enforcer’s stable hand."

"Maybe that's because I am a warrior, Dad," I replied, the bitterness leaking out. 

"Clara is a decoration. I’m the one who can actually defend the perimeter. And besides, when have you ever bought me a gown to wear for these functions? The only people that wear these things in our family are Mother and Clara. If you'd have bought me one, I'd have worn them"

Dennis let out a short, harsh laugh. "Defend the perimeter? You’re a nineteen-year-old Beta female who spends her time hitting logs with sticks. You wouldn't last ten seconds against a real threat. And besides, even if we buy you the gown, you won't wear it. Now, go. Change into the grey dress I bought you. It’s modest, and more importantly, it doesn't draw attention."

I went upstairs, my boots thudding heavily on the plush carpet. 

I hated the grey dress. It was the color of a rainy Tuesday, dull, shapeless, and designed to make me disappear. 

I pulled it on, the fabric scratching against my skin. In the mirror, I looked like a ghost. I grabbed a small, sharpened dagger, a habit I couldn't break and tucked it into the hidden sheath in my boot. 

If I had to be a ghost, I’d be a ghost with teeth.

When I returned downstairs, the dining room was aglow with candlelight. Clara was already there, draped in a gown of shimmering gold silk that caught every flickering light. She looked ethereal, her skin glowing, her eyes bright with a curated excitement.

"Oh, Bella!" Clara exclaimed, rushing over to me and grabbing my hands. Her touch was soft, but her grip was firm, almost warning. "You look so... practical! I was so worried you wouldn't find anything to wear. Isn't she just lovely, Mother? So sturdy."

Sturdy, the word was nothing but a sharp slap to my face.

"She’s presentable," Mara said, ushering us toward the table. "Sit. The Elder Council members will be here any moment."

The dinner was a masterclass in psychological warfare. As the high-ranking members of the pack sat down, the conversation revolved entirely around Clara.

"And how are your studies in Diplomacy going, Clara?" Elder Hauk asked, his voice thick with admiration.

"They are wonderful, Elder," Clara replied, lowering her lashes modestly. "I’ve been studying the old treaties. I believe that with enough compassion, even the most aggressive rogue can be reasoned with."

"Truly, a heart of gold," Hauk remarked. He then glanced toward the end of the table, where I was methodically cutting a piece of meat. "And what about you, Bellatrix? I hear you’ve been spending quite a bit of time in the training pits. Planning on joining the border guard?"

The table went silent. My mother’s fork clattered against her plate.

"Bellatrix has a... hobby," Dennis said quickly, his voice tight. "She’s very athletic. But we’re hoping she’ll find a nice position in the archives once she’s mated. She has a sharp mind, even if her manners are a bit... rough."

"I don't want to be in the archives," I said, my voice cutting through the polite atmosphere. I looked Elder Hauk in the eye. 

"I want to lead a scout unit. I’ve mapped the northern quadrant better than the current captains. I found a breach in the scent-ward three days ago that no one else noticed."

Mara’s face turned a dangerous shade of pale. "Bellatrix, that is enough. We are at dinner."

"Why is it enough?" I asked, my blood beginning to simmer. "Because I’m a Beta? Or because I’m not Clara? If Clara had found a breach, you’d be calling the heralds to announce her brilliance. I find it, and it’s a 'hobby'?"

Clara let out a soft, pained sniffle. She reached for her wine glass, her hand trembling just enough for everyone to see. 

"I’m so sorry, everyone. I didn't mean to cause a scene. Bella, I know you’re frustrated that you haven't been recognized, but please... not tonight. This was supposed to be a happy night for the family."

"Oh, don't play the victim, Clara," I snapped. "You love this. You love being the center of the universe while I’m the dirt you walk on."

"Bellatrix!" Dennis slammed his hand on the table, making the glasses jump. "Apologize to your sister this instant! She has done nothing but support you, and you treat her with nothing but venom. You are a disgrace to the Lykaios name!"