Daisy and Dasha’s mother also passed away when they were just born. Their father was a drunk who could not even remember their birthdays.

Daisy had always been the clever one. The Alpha family noticed her and raised her like a daughter.

That was how we met, always competing for the Alpha’s praise, always pushing each other forward.

While for Dasha, she never had that light. She ran away at ten, dreaming of escape.

But freedom had a cruel face. She married a human man who beat her, broke her spirit, and left her with nothing.

And after all that, she came crawling back.

When I went down again, the sound of laughter met me before I even reached the last step.

There, in the living room, sat four people who looked every bit like a happy family.

Elstan sat in the middle of the couch, broad shoulders relaxed, his hand tenderly entwined with Dasha’s on his left.

Dasha leaned against him like she belonged there, her face glowing with the confidence of someone who knew she was wanted.

The twins sat on Elstan’s right, giggling, showering Dasha with compliments that pierced deeper than any sharp word they had thrown at me.

“Dasha, you look so beautiful today!” Charlet grinned.

“Yeah, you look like a fairy!” Charlie added, practically clapping his hand in excitement.

I stood frozen at the bottom of the stairs.

“Look, Daisy,” I muttered under my breath, “they already have a new mother figure. So, I’m not needed here anymore, right?”

Dasha was the first to notice me.

“Oh, Jennete, are you done getting ready?” she said, walking toward me. “I heard from the servant that the kids were being naughty to you again. Forgive them, they’re just kids.”

She turned back to the twins and knelt slightly, her tone gentle yet commanding, “Come on, kids. Apologize to Jennete.”

Both of them instantly frowned. “No!” they said in unison, folding their arms.

Dasha looked at them again, still smiling. “Please, at least for my behalf.”

Charlie huffed, “Ugh, fine.” But he never looked at me. Neither did Charlet.

Elstan, who sat silently, watching the scene with a smile.

He was genuinely happy for the first time since Daisy died. And I was not the reason. I never was.

Five years ago, when Daisy passed, Elstan could not bear her absence. I stayed, thinking maybe time would soften him. I cooked, cleaned, and held the babies when they cried.

But he never married me. Never once introduced me to the pack as anything more than the Luna-in-duty.

I was just… there.

Another nanny to the twins.

Another woman to warm his bed during his heat phases — quick, quiet, never spoken of again.

And then, that role had shifted seamlessly to Dasha.

She had Daisy’s face. Fuller, yes — her pear-shaped body curved in places Daisy never had. But it did not matter.

She wore that face. She wore that voice.

And that time, she wore her affection.

“Sorry,” the twins said in unison, their tone flat and forced, snapping me out of the fog of my thoughts.

I smiled slightly and wanted to answer. But before I could open my mouth, Charlie cut off, “But don’t ever think you can replace our mom. Only Dasha can.”

Charlet, clinging to Dasha’s arm, added with venom, “Right! I love Dasha, and I hate you, wicked witch.”

I stood there, a silent statue. It turned out five years of raising them with all my heart and soul could only be replaced by someone who just came a month ago.

Dasha pulled them into a warm hug, her eyes glancing at me briefly over their shoulders. “Oh, kids. I love you too. But please be kind to Jennete too, okay?”

The twin just pouted but still received Dasha’s hug voluntarily.

Elstan, as if sensing an awkward silence, clapped his hands lightly and said, “Okay, kids. Let’s start the event before it gets too late.”

“Oh, right! I’ll get the soup I’ve prepared then,” Dasha chirped, and turned to me with a serene smile, “Jennete, come help me, okay?”

“Sure.”

We walked to the kitchen, a soft hum of birthday chatter echoing behind us. But the moment the door swung shut behind us, the air changed.

Suddenly, Dasha shrieked, and the pot she was holding tipped. Boiling soup spilled, splashing on both of our hands.

“Ahhh!”

I cried out, jerking back in pain, but she fell to the floor with practiced drama, holding her hand and sobbing uncontrollably.

The kitchen door slammed open.

“Elstan, help me!” Dasha cried, looking up just as he and the twins rushed in. “Jennete tried to harm me!

“She said Charlie and Charlet are her children. She couldn’t accept that they love me more than her!”

Without waiting, the twins ran toward me, their tiny fists pounding against my side.

“You wicked woman! You hurt our mom!” Charlie shouted, voice shaking.

“I hate you! You’re jealous and evil!” Charlet sobbed, striking harder.

I stood frozen, cradling my burned hand, too stunned to speak.

Elstan bent down, scooping Dasha into his arms like a wounded queen. He did not even look at me as he growled, “I never thought you were so cunning like this. Just because you hate her, doesn’t mean you can hurt her.”

With that, he turned and carried her away, the twins trailing behind him like loyal shadows.

The celebration was over. No cake. No laughter. Only the sound of footsteps walking away from me.

I made my way upstairs with what dignity I had left. I wrapped the wound myself, tears blurring my vision, each stinging drop matching the burn on my hand.

But when the sun had just dipped beneath the horizon, Dasha came to my room without permission. She let herself in without being invited.

“Why are you here?” I asked, “Where are Elstan and the kids?”

“Because of your little drama earlier,” she said, admiring the bandage on her finger—neatly wrapped, with a small heart drawn on it in purple marker, no doubt by Charlet or Charlie, “Elstan took the kids out to buy more birthday gifts, just to cheer them up.”

She looked at me then, her tone dripping honeyed poison. “But since I’m ‘injured,’ I stayed. Poor me.”

I stood my ground, gripping the edge of my table so tightly my knuckles turned white. “Then you better rest peacefully in your room, instead of coming into mine.”

She chuckled. A low, slow, mocking sound. “Oh, Jennete,” she cooed, “I could never rest peacefully as long as you’re still in this house.”

“So, you should’ve been more sensitive and left!” She stepped closer. I could smell the faint traces of Elstan’s cologne on her.

She wants me to leave here.

I would fulfill her wish, and I would leave this place forever and never look back.

“And oh,” she tilted her head, smiling wickedly, “Remember last week? When you saw me and Elstan bathed in the full moon? That wasn’t an accident.

“I made sure you saw. Elstan gets very loud when he’s excited, doesn’t he? I bet the sound of him moaning is still echoing in your brain.”

She leaned closer, voice like a whisper of a blade against my skin, “If not, I can always give you another show. Just in case last week wasn’t clear enough.”

My heart clenched.

“No need, Dasha. I’ve had enough,” I said, my voice low but steady. “But you better try harder if you want to get rid of me.

“I didn’t stay because I wanted to. I stayed because of my promise to your twin sister, Daisy.”

She scoffed dramatically as she spat, “Oh, come on! Daisy has been leveled to the ground for years now. She won’t care anymore—she’s dead.”

Just as I opened my mouth to snap, we heard it. The front door opening and two familiar voices filled with laughter.

“Look, Charlet! It glows in the dark!”

“Let’s show it to Dasha—she’ll love it!”

The twins were home with Elstan.

Dasha's eyes sparkled with wicked calculation. “It's better for you to know your place, right?” she whispered sweetly, walking toward my nightstand.

Then she swept her elbow back. My bedside lamp crashed to the floor, the ceramic shattering into sharp pieces.

Before I could react, she shrieked and threw herself onto the shards. Her scream was bloodcurdling, echoing through the entire house.

“Ahh! Help!”

I stood frozen, stunned by how easily Dasha twisted reality into a nightmare.

Soon, footsteps thundered up the stairs and as they came to my room, Elstan rushed past me, dropping to his knees beside her.

“Dasha! Dasha, what happened?”

Dasha sobbed harder. “I…I was only asking Jennete if we could live peacefully, but she got angry and pushed me.”

Elstan turned his head slowly, his gaze ice-cold and sharp like daggers.

“Is that true?” he asked me. “Did you push her?”

“No, Elstan,” I said, voice barely above a whisper.

But before I could explain more, Dasha had acted more.

“Jennete, please…” Dasha’s tear-filled eyes met mine, her voice trembling. “Don’t act like this. If you really don’t want me around Charlie and Charlet, I’ll stay away. Just don’t hurt me again.”

“No!” Charlet screamed, running toward her. “No, Dasha, don’t leave this house!”

“Yes, Dasha, we love you!” Charlie shouted, glaring at me with pure disgust. “Dad, help Dasha.”

“Jennete! All this time, I’ve been kind to you only because Dasha never made a problem out of the messes you always created in front of her.

“But this time,” he grabbed me hard until my wrist hurt, “I can’t forgive you. You’ve hurt her twice in one day!”

“But I didn’t do it, Elstan,” I said, forcing myself to stay calm even as my pulse raced.

“Liar!” His eyes blazed as he barked. “Then can you explain why you’re standing here unharmed, while she’s bleeding on the floor?”

“She threw herself!” I shouted, my voice cracking with disbelief. “She did it herself!”

Elstan sneered, his grip tightening. “So now you’re accusing her of self-harm just to make you look better? How pathetic that sounds!

“Now, you better reflect on your mistakes and face the punishment.”

Before I could speak the rebuttal aloud, he dragged me outside.

“Elstan, where are you taking me?” I gasped, stumbling behind him as he led me out of the Alpha’s house.

And then we came to the silver jail.

“No, you wouldn’t…” I whispered.

But he did.

Elstan’s voice echoed behind me, sharp and final. “Stay here for a week and clear your mind. And I swear—if you go near Dasha again after this, you’ll leave this pack for good.”

He slammed the cell door shut. The clank of the lock rang like a death sentence.

“Elstan!” I cried, “You know I can’t stand small spaces! Elstan, please!”

But his footsteps were already fading.

What came next was a silver dagger whistling through the air, slicing into my side with a sharp, unforgiving pain that spread like wildfire.

Blood soaked my dress in seconds and the world around me lurched and blurred.

But through the flickering haze, I saw them—Charlie and Charlet.

Two shadows framed in the torchlight, no longer the giggling children I once rocked to sleep, but cold-eyed silhouettes—twin wolves raised on venom.

Charlie sneered, his eyes glinting coldly, “Didn’t we say, if you don’t leave immediately, you’ll regret it?”

“Yes! So, you better be with Mom, underground!” Charlet echoed, her voice twisted with a childish cruelty that did not belong to her.

A choked gasp escaped my lips. “Where... where did you get that silver dagger?!” I cried, clutching my bleeding side as my knees gave out beneath me.

The twins, who used to need help tying their shoelaces, who once painted messy little flowers for me on Mother's Day, that time stood like tiny reapers, armed with blades and poisoned hearts.

“Dasha once said that silver could kill wolves, so we brought it especially for you, wicked witch,” Charlie said, lifting his chin with pride.

My eyes widened, trembling. “Dasha... what did she do to you?” I whispered, almost too quiet to be heard. “What has she turned you into?”

They did not flinch nor even hesitate.

“You better leave this world right now,” Charlet hissed, her eyes wide, wild—so full of hatred it cracked something inside me.

“Die!” they screamed in perfect unison.

The second dagger left Charlet’s hand like a silver promise.

It spun through the air—slow in my fading vision, like time itself held its breath—before it slammed into my chest.

Right over my heart.