—- Chapter 3 I set the meatloaf down on the long oak dining table, the scent wafting through the air like a forgotten promise. Laughter echoed from the living room. Father, usually buried in Alpha Council meetings and Ashveil Pack’s logistics, sat comfortably, listening intently as Eris gushed about her time at Wolfsbane Academy. “We practiced under the pack elder Eldric,” she said, eyes shining.
“He said I had the instincts of a born Alpha- strong enough to lead any pack.” Mother clutched Eris’s hand, eyes shimmering with emotion. “My sweet girl. You’ve lost weight, haven’t you? You need more rest-too much time in training will weaken your wolf and dull your senses.” Dax sat beside them, still dutifully peeling chestnuts like some Beta servant. I stood quietly at the threshold between the kitchen and living room-watching, never invited.
That room was warm, bright, full of voices and attention. —- This room-mine-was quiet, dim. Forgotten. Eris’s voice rose with performative sweetness. “Vera, why are you just standing there? Still mad at me for ruining your ceremony?” The conversation screeched to a halt. Three pairs of eyes turned toward me like I was a problem that had just come back. Father’s brow furrowed. “Vera, come here. Don’t sulk.” Mother gave me that impatient look-the one that always followed whenever Eris cried.
“You’re the one who picked that unfortunate date. Eris had just landed, we were all exhausted from the airport run. You know that, don’t you?” Then came the dagger. “Tf you’ re going to be petty with your sister, then you’re no daughter of mine.” Eris gasped, wide-eyed and full of faux concern. “Mom, don’t be so harsh. Vera will feel hurt…” —- But her smirk said otherwise. She knew my ceremony date. I told her a week in advance. She even replied: “Can’t wait!
Got a surprise planned for you.” Surprise, indeed. Since we were pups, Eris had always managed to turn every situation into a test-one where the pack had to choose. They always picked her. Even my mate chose her. I should’ve felt something -anger, betrayal, sadness. But there was only… stillness. “Pm not angry.” Those three words sliced through the tension like claws through bark. Everyone stared. Father blinked. Mother narrowed her eyes.
