Mira's POV

The night my stepsister's dead body was found at the bottom of the stairs, I was the only witness. That was all the evidence they needed and that made me the prime suspect in a murder I didn't commit.

To avoid prison or banishment, they forced me to marry my stepsister's mate, Alpha Ragnar and become guardian to their son.

On little Jace's tenth birthday, I accidentally wore my stepsister's diamond earrings that had been mixed with my jewelry.

In front of everyone, Jace threw his mother's cherished vase straight at my head, sending me falling.

"Don't think you can steal what's left of my mom just because you wormed your way back into this family," he snarled. "You attention-seeking fraud."

He leaned down, deliberately pressing his foot onto my hand where it lay among the glass pieces.

"I wish they would've just let you go to jail. Then, we'd be visiting you behind bars... not pretending to celebrate my birthday with you."

"I swear, I'll never call you mom, not even if you stay here for a hundred years!"

Blood trickled down my palm where a glass piece had sliced through skin, but all I felt was emptiness.

I stared at the child I was supposed to raise as my own and, strangely, I just felt... finished.

If a child's hate runs this deep, maybe it's time to disappear.

What I never expected was how desperately they'd search for me afterward.

—------------

I sat on the cold bathroom floor, pressing an ice pack to my face where the vase had struck me. The mirror showed my swollen face, blood still falling from the cut.

Jace appeared in the doorway, his small face twisted with hatred.

"You're pathetic. Look at you crying over a little scratch when my mom is dead because of you," he sneered. "My dad only keeps you around because he feels sorry for you."

I dabbed at my wound silently, which only seemed to make him angrier.

"Stop acting like you're some victim! Everyone knows what you did. You're just a dirty criminal who should be rotting in jail instead of living in our house," he spat, his voice getting louder. "My mom would still be alive if it wasn't for you and your jealousy!"

Jace kicked the first aid kit across the floor, scattering bandages everywhere.

"You'll never be part of this family. Never! I hate you more every single day you pretend to be my mom," he snarled at me.

This wasn't the first time. Every single day for the past two years had been the same torment.

Whenever I accidentally used anything that once belonged to his mother - her hairbrush, her chair in the dining room, even when I stood in spots where she used to stand. Jace would fly into a rage.

Last month, he'd dumped an entire bottle of juice on me for using his mother's coffee mug. The month before, he'd stepped on my hand when I wore a similar hairstyle to her old photos.

All this hatred from a child I was supposed to mother.

"You know what, Jace? I've had enough." My voice shook as I stood up. "I've tried for two years to love you, to care for you, but you don't want that."

"I didn't kill your mother, Tessa. But you're killing whatever's left of me every single day."

"You don't get to speak her name with your filthy mouth. I hate you! I HATE YOU!" Jace's face crumpled. He ran away sobbing, no doubt to tell his father how mean I'd been to him.

I wanted nothing more than to bandage my wound and sleep, but I remembered Ragnar's stern warning that I must attend Jace's birthday celebration. Sighing, I headed upstairs to change into the dress I'd prepared.

What I found on the bed made my heart stop. My mother's favorite dress, the only thing I had left of her was shredded to pieces and covered with red paint spelling out KILLER, PRISONER and DIE across what remained of the cloth.

She'd worn this dress at her last birthday before the cancer took her and it had been my most treasured possession. I'd planned to honor her memory by wearing it today.

My gaze traveled around the room. All my clothes, my shoes were all destroyed.

I cried out, picking up the ruined dress and turning around when my foot slipped on wet paint. I tumbled down the stairs, landing in a broken heap at the bottom while Jace watched from above.

"Look at the murderer falling just like my mom did," Jace laughed coldly. "Bet it hurts, doesn't it? That's nothing compared to what you did to her."

"Maybe this time you'll die too and we can be free of you."

"This house will never be yours, no matter how long you stay. If you disappeared tomorrow, we'd celebrate it as a holiday." he finished before walking away.

I didn't bother explaining that the day his mother died, it was because of him. He'd been rushing her to his soccer game, pressuring her to hurry and in her haste, she'd tripped.

I saw it happen and tried to save her, but that's when his grandmother arrived, screaming that I'd killed her daughter and forcing me to marry Ragnar to care for Jace or face prison.

Ragnar found me still lying at the bottom of the stairs, blood pooling beneath my head.

"What have you done now?" he sighed, not even helping me up. "Jace is crying in his room on his birthday. Can't you keep peace for one day?"

"I didn't do anything," I whispered through split lips. "Your son destroyed my mother's dress and set a trap for me."

"You're always blaming a child for your failures," Ragnar sneered. "Maybe if you weren't such a pathetic excuse for a mate and guardian, he wouldn't need to teach you your place."

"This pack took you in instead of letting you rot in prison where you belong," he spat. "You should lick the ground we walk on every single day and thank us for our mercy."

His eyes narrowed as he saw the fury building inside me.

"Let me help you up," his tone softened as he reached for my arm. "We can mend the dress and get this over with. "

I pulled my hand away from his grasp, looking directly into his eyes.

"I want to reject our bond," I said firmly. "I'm done with you."

Mira's

"Reject our bond?" Ragnar's voice dropped to a dangerous growl. "You dare say that on my son's birthday?"

His eyes flashed red as he towered over me.

"Always making everything about you," he snarled. "Jace has been looking forward to this day for months, and you choose now to throw your little drama?"

I tried to push myself up, wincing as sharp pain shot through my wrist. "Ragnar, please—"

He grabbed my injured arm and yanked me to my feet."You're nothing but a burden we've carried for five years. A murderer we saved from prison."

The front door opened, and I felt the air grow colder as Patricia, My stepmother, swept inside. Her eyes narrowed when she spotted me.

"What's this mess now?" she asked, looking at the blood on the marble floor. "I spent a fortune getting this place ready for Jace's celebration, and you're ruining it with your dramatics?"

Ragnar's grip on my arm tightened. "She's threatening to reject our bond."

Patricia crossed the room and slapped me hard across my already bruised face.

"You dare?" she hissed. "After we saved you from a life behind bars? After we gave you a position in this household most wolves would kill for?"

"Patricia," Ragnar cautioned. "Try not to damage her face too much. She still needs to appear presentable at the party."

"Presentable?" She scoffed. "This little nobody will never be presentable. She'll never have Tessa's class."

Her finger jabbed into my chest. "Listen carefully, girl. You're going nowhere. That bond you're so eager to reject is the only thing keeping them from reopening your case. One word from Ragnar, and you'll be facing silver bars for the rest of your miserable life."

"Go upstairs and make yourself presentable for Jace's birthday," Ragnar commanded. “-that's an Alpha command!"

My body jerked in response to his command because of the mate bond.

"And don't you dare embarrass me in front of the pack tonight," he growled, yanking me up by my arm. "There will be consequences if you do!"

I limped to my bedroom, tears streaming down my face. The remnants of my mother's dress lay scattered across the floor.

Six years ago, before Tessa entered our lives, Ragnar and I had been inseparable. I loved him with every fiber of my being, dreaming of the day our pack fathers would announce our mating. I still remember how he would sneak to my window at night, bringing me wildflowers and promises of forever, whispering that no one would ever come between us.

Then my father married Patricia after mom's death, and her daughter Tessa joined our pack. Beautiful, cunning Tessa who set her sights on Ragnar immediately. She didn't care that he was my destined mate - she wanted him, and within months, he was under her spell.

I carefully gathered the pieces of my mother's dress, trying to salvage anything I could. The fabric was beyond repair, but I tried to mend it.

Lost in my task, I didn't hear the door open again until Ragnar was standing over me.

"What are you doing?" he demanded. "I told you to get ready."

Without waiting for an answer, he yanked me up by my arm and dragged me to the closet, pulling out a silver dress I'd never seen before.

"Put this on," he ordered. "And fix your face. I can't have you looking like a victim at my son's birthday."

He threw the dress at me and stormed out, leaving me staring at yet another command I was expected to follow.

An hour later, I walked into the transformed living room, where pack members and Jace's school friends filled the space.

"Smile," Ragnar hissed in my ear. "Look like you actually want to be here."

The party was a sea of unfamiliar faces giving me familiar looks of hatred. Jace stood with his friends, pointing and snickering as I passed.

“Everyone, look! The murderer decided to show her face! Bet she's planning which one of us to push down the stairs next!"

"Don't stand too close to her," Jace continued. "She's a curse.”

The adults laughed openly now, raising their glasses. Ragnar did nothing to defend me, instead chuckling along with his pack members.

Suddenly, the room fell silent. All heads turned toward the entrance.

Isabella Wilson walked in, Jace's favourite and Ragnar's mistress for the past six months. She was Tessa's former best friend who quickly became Ragnar's comfort after her death.

She wore the exact same silver dress as me, except hers was clearly designer. Worse, Tessa's diamond luna ring sparkled on her finger. a ring Jace would have attacked me for touching.

Jace's face lit up. He broke away from his friends and ran to her.

"Aunt Isabella!" he cried, throwing his arms around her waist. “You came!”

“Of course, sweetheart. I wouldn't miss your special day." She stroked his hair lovingly. "I brought your favorite chocolate."

Jace turned, his eyes finding me in my matching dress. His face darkened instantly.

"Look everyone! The murderer is copying Isabella now!" he announced loudly. "First she killed my mom, now she's stealing Isabella's style!"

Jace marched toward me. "You'll never belong here no matter what you wear or who you pretend to be. Everyone sees right through you."

"Jace, come cut your cake!" someone called, breaking the moment.

"In a minute," he replied, never taking his eyes off me. Then he reached for a glass of red wine from a nearby table.

"You know what would look better with that dress?" he asked, and before I could step back, he tipped the entire contents over my head.

The cold liquid soaked through the silver cloth, staining it red as it dripped down my face and chest.

"Now you look like what you are," Jace announced to the silent room. "A killer with blood on her hands."

No one moved to help and Ragnar didn't even look my way instead he was kissing Isabella openly.

Jace turned and grabbed her hand. "Let's go cut my cake, Aunt Isabella. I want you to help me with the candles."

Isabella smiled at him. "Anything for you, my favorite boy in the whole world." She looked back at me with triumph in her eyes. "Someone should really clean that mess up before it stains the floor."

Mira's

The party continued as if I didn't exist. I wasn't surprised, I'd never belonged here. For five years, I'd been nothing but a replacement, a scapegoat, someone to blame for their pain while they healed in their own ways.

I'd always felt sorry for Jace, believing his hatred stemmed from grief, but now I realized some wounds weren't mine to heal.

When the last guest finally left, Ragnar cornered me with his eyes filled with disgust.

"Clean this mess up," he ordered, gesturing to the broken glasses and spilled drinks littering from earlier party games. "When you're done with everything outside, pack up all the trash, and maybe then you can come back in." He reached into a nearby closet and tossed cleaning supplies at my feet. "And for Luna's sake, stop looking so pathetic. You're embarrassing yourself."

I nodded silently, too tired to argue as he turned and walked away, his arm sliding around Isabella's waist. They laughed together, whispering as they climbed the stairs to our bedroom

The night air bit into my skin as I gathered broken plates and half-empty glasses, wincing as pieces of glass sliced my already injured hands.

For hours I worked, cleaning every trace of the celebration that had become my humiliation. When I finally finished, I tried the door handle, only to find it locked.

I knocked harder when no one responded. Inside, someone had turned the music up to a loud volume. I pounded with both fists until my knuckles bruised.

"Hello? Can someone open the door!" I called, my voice breaking from the cold.

"Please, it's freezing out here! Let me in!"

Jace's face appeared at the window. "My dad's busy with Aunt Isabella right now. They told me to tell you they need private time."

"Jace, please," I begged, my teeth chattering. "Just open the door."

"Why would I help a murderer?" he spat. "You should have died instead of my mom. Maybe the cold will finish what the stairs couldn't!"

His laughter faded as he disappeared back into the warmth of the house. I tried every door, every window, finding each one securely locked. Desperate and shivering violently, I made my way around to the back of the house where my bedroom window overlooked the garden.

Through the curtains, I could see them, Ragnar and Isabella, naked on the bed that was supposed to be mine. The bed I'd been banished from months ago when he claimed he couldn't stand my touch.

“She's pathetic," Isabella moaned as Ragnar moved over her. "The way she just stands there taking everything. No wonder you can't stand to touch her."

"She means nothing to me," Ragnar growled. "Never has. The only reason I keep her around is to avoid the scandal of rejecting a mate. Once Jace's old enough, I'll get rid of her for good."

"Promise?" Isabella purred, wrapping her legs around him.

"I promise. You're the only one I want. You've always been the one."

I stumbled backward. All this time, I thought I was enduring punishment for a crime I didn't commit. Now I realized the truth—I'd been kept in a cage serving a purpose until I wasn't needed anymore.

The wind began to howl around me, snow beginning to fall as I lied against the house. The old dog cage in the corner of the yard was the only shelter available. I crawled inside and was surrounded by the smell of wet fur and poop.

Hours later, the back door finally opened. I stumbled inside, my limbs nearly frozen to find Ragnar in the kitchen with his shirt misbuttoned and Isabella's lipstick smeared across his neck.

“Where have you been?" he demanded, not bothering to hide the evidence of his night with her.

I walked past him without a word, heading straight to our bedroom. I pulled my suitcase from under the bed and began filling it with what little I could call my own.

Ragnar leaned against the doorframe. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm leaving," I said quietly, continuing to pack. "And I reject our bond. Accept it or not, I'm done."

He laughed, the sound sharp and cruel. "You can't reject what saved you from prison. You're mine until I say otherwise."

"I'd rather face silver bars than spend another day in this hell," I replied, zipping the suitcase shut. "Jace has Isabella now. He doesn't need me, and neither do you."

Ragnar's eyes darkened. "You ungrateful little—" He grabbed my arm, fingers digging in painfully. "You think I'll just let you walk away? After everything we've done for you?"

"What have you done except punish me for a crime I didn't commit?" I wrenched my arm free. "I'm done being your prisoner."

His nostrils flared. "You smell like a wet dog. Go clean yourself up and make breakfast. You're embarrassing yourself with this pathetic display."

"I'd rather die than spend another minute pretending to be part of this family," I said, lifting my suitcase.

As I turned toward the door, Jace's voice rang out from the hallway.

"Wait! I have a gift for you before you go!"

I turned, foolishly hoping for some reconciliation.

Instead, I saw Jace's small hands gripping his birthday bow, an arrow already notched. His eyes was filled with hatred as he released the string.

"This is for my mother," he whispered.

The arrow flew straight and true, aimed directly at my heart.