Rhea’s POV

“I am ready to accept the Moonstone. I will return to the Great Pack and become the heiress,” I spoke through the mindlink. I felt the connection snap shut, leaving only silence in my head.

I looked around the cold stone bedroom where I had lived for eight years. A sad smile touched my lips. Eight years of hard work, eight years of being patient, and eight years of loving a man and a child who didn't want me. I had nothing to show for it but scars.

“How dare you wear my mother’s clothes!” a sharp voice screamed behind me.

I sighed and turned to see Marc. His face was red with anger.

“Are you not going to say anything, you silent thief?” he barked at me.

“Go to the pack feast, Marc,” I said softly. “I am sure your friends are waiting to celebrate your birthday.”

“No!” he yelled. He grabbed a heavy clay jug of hot herbal tea from the table and threw the liquid right at my chest.

I screamed as the heat bit into my skin. I had just brewed it, and it was still steaming.

“Yes! That is what you get!” Marc snapped, his eyes full of hate. “You can never replace my mother. You killed her with your wicked heart, and now you are wearing her favorite dress!”

An old maid rushed into the room. She gasped when she saw me covered in tea, my skin turning red and starting to blister.

“I am so sorry, Lady Rhea! Marc ran away from the group. I will take him away now,” the maid whispered. She hurried out, pulling Marc with her. As he left, I saw him smiling.

I stepped into the washroom to clean the burns. The dress didn't even belong to Via, his late mother. She was my step-sister who died giving birth to him.

Eight years ago, I was supposed to mate with Malachi Valmont. He was my childhood love. I believed our souls were bonded by the Moon Goddess until the world fell apart. He chose my step-sister instead. Suddenly, she was the one carrying his pup and living the life that was promised to me.

But Via died. The pack called me a curse. They said I was jealous and that my dark thoughts killed her. Because I was her sister, they made me stay to care for Marc. My step-mother told me I must love him like my own blood.

And for eight years, I did. I loved Marc like a son. I cared for Malachi’s every need. But I was a fool. Malachi never loved me. All these years, he and Marc treated me like trash. They made sure I knew I was just a lowly concubine in this house.

Marc never respected me. He spent every day finding new ways to hurt my wolf. I had already decided that today, on Marc’s eighth year of life, I would leave this pack forever.

If Marc had thrown hot tea on me three years ago, I would have begged for his forgiveness. I would have tried to make him happy. But I am finished.

The funny thing is, this dress was never Via’s favorite. She never even wore it. This was my dress, a gift from my own mother before she passed. Via stole it from me, just like she stole everything else in my life.

“The feast is starting. Where are you, Rhea?” Malachi’s deep voice echoed outside the room.

I dried myself and walked out just as he stepped inside. He saw my stained dress and the red marks on my skin and sighed.

“I heard what Marc did. Do not think about it too much. He is just a pup, and I know he loves you,” Malachi said.

I let out a cold laugh. “That child does not know the first thing about love.”

Malachi’s face darkened. “Do not talk like that. He is a good boy.”

I moved away from him and grabbed a small jar of healing balm. I began to rub the cool cream onto my burns. My skin was swollen, but this pack medicine would heal the marks by morning.

“Let me help,” Malachi said. He took the jar from me without asking.

His fingers moved in circles over my skin. A few years ago, his touch would have made me feel weak with love. Now, it just made me want to pull away.

“Be patient with him,” he whispered, his breath warm against my neck.

I stepped back, breaking his hold. “I have something to tell you, Malachi.”

He looked annoyed. “Can it not wait? Marc’s birthday hunt is starting.”

“No, it cannot,” I said, looking him in the eye. “Today is the eighth year. I am leaving. I am never coming back.”

Rhea's POV

“What madness are you speaking?” Malachi thundered.

I watched as his face tightened with Alpha rage. The air in the room became heavy, the pressure of his power trying to force me to submit, but I stood my ground. I did not flicker.

“The eight years are finished, Malachi. I am leaving this pack,” I stated firmly.

Malachi scowled, his eyes flashing gold. “What is your problem? Why are you acting like a pup? I told you, Marc is just a child. Do not take his temper to heart. Today is his birth-feast. Come. I will punish him when the moon is high.”

Malachi grabbed my hand, his grip like iron, and tried to pull me toward the Great Hall. I yanked my arm back, breaking his hold.

“You gave your word. You said when he reached his eighth year, I could go. Why are you surprised?” I asked.

Before he could growl an answer, a sharp, hateful voice came from the shadows behind us.

“Rhea, have you no shame? Always trying to steal the light, even on the boy’s special day!”

I didn’t need to turn to know that voice. It was Hestia, my step-mother and Marc’s grandmother. She was the one who had made the pact with Malachi. She promised that once Marc’s wolf began to stir at eight years old, I would be free. Why was she acting as if she had forgotten?

“I am not stealing anything, Hestia. You are the one who set the time. Eight years. I have served them,” I said.

Hestia scoffed, crossing her arms over her furs. “Must you howl about this now? On my grandson’s birthday?”

“It is fine. I am sure Rhea is just tired,” Malachi intervened.

Years ago, my heart would have softened at his protection. Now, I saw it for what it was—a pathetic trap to keep me in my place.

“Come. Let us go to the feast,” Malachi said.

I stayed quiet and let him lead me to the hall. The fire was roaring, and the pack was already eating. Marc and the other pups were playing near the hearth, but his face turned sour the moment he scented me.

“Look, Marc! Your mother is here!” one of the pack members called out.

Marc sneered, his lip curling. “She is not my mother!”

I stood frozen as Malachi sighed and grabbed Marc by the shoulder.

“We do not speak such words, Marc. Rhea is your mother. She has raised you since you were a cub,” Malachi stated.

Marc’s face twisted with a dark look. “No! She can never be my Luna mother. Everyone, look at her! This is the woman who killed my real mother!”

Whispers moved through the hall like a cold wind. The guests stared at me, their eyes judgmental.

“She is only the boy’s aunt.” “Why does the pup hate her so much?” “It is clear she has not cared for him well.”

“Apologize to her now,” Malachi commanded Marc.

I stepped forward and stopped him. “It is alright. It does not matter anymore.”

I walked out of the hall, my face calm. In the past, those words would have felt like a silver blade to my heart. But I had finally accepted the truth: Malachi’s heart would always be buried in the ground with Via, and Marc would always see me as the shadow that stole her place.

“Why must you cause a scene today?”

I heard Hestia’s sharp voice as she stepped into my path outside.

“What do you want, Hestia? I have played my part for eight years. I am done,” I said.

“You should love Marc like your own blood! You should bear his anger and care for him. If my daughter were still alive, he would be a happy prince,” she snapped.

I shrugged, too tired to argue. “A pity your daughter is dead.”

Hestia raised her hand to strike my face, but I caught her wrist mid-air.

“Do not try it, Hestia. I am not the weak girl you bullied eight years ago. The contract is over. Marc is eight, and I have every right to go.”

Hestia yanked her hand away, rubbing her sore arm and glaring at me.

“Go then, Rhea. This is why no one will ever love you. Not even your father wants to see your face!” she hissed before vanishing into the dark.

A sad smile touched my lips. It had been eight years since my father looked at me. Since his favorite daughter died, he had treated me like an outcast.

“I am sorry... I got you a gift.”

A small, quiet voice spoke behind me. I turned to see Marc standing there with an innocent smile. He was holding a small wooden box tied with a string.

I felt a spark of hope. “Oh, Marc... you didn't have to.”

He giggled, a sound that seemed too sweet for this night. “I wanted to. Please, open it.”

I took the box and pulled the string. As the lid opened, a terrible smell hit me. Inside the box lay the small, lifeless body of my pet cat. It had been pierced by a hunter’s arrow.

“That will be you soon,” Marc whispered, his smile never fading, “if you don't leave me and my father alone.”

Rhea’s POV

I was mortified staring at my only pet that I had been allowed to bring to the mansion. Same way I have taken care of Marc.

“Don’t mess with me and don't get my father upset with me!” Marc snapped.

I watched as he stomped off while I stared at the arrow in my cat’s body.

Fate is indeed mocking me because I was the one who taught Marc how to shoot arrows. I taught Marc everything he knows and now he's using it against me.

I cradled the box as I stared at Faye, my best friend and a single tear slipped from my eyes.

“Why are you out in the cold, Rhea? Don't get sick on me!” Malachi’s voice came through the door.

He immediately stood behind me as he draped me with his jacket which I shrugged off.

“What’s wrong?” he queried.

His face twisted in slight disgust when he saw the dead cat in the box.

“Your son came to apologize,” I stated.

Malachi’s frown deepened, “He’s your son too.”

I scoffed, “He hates me Malachi! He killed my cat.”

“Come now, let’s go inside. I'll have a talk with him in the morning and you can bury the cat tomorrow. I'm sure he was just messing around and it was a silly prank,” Malachi said.

I shrugged away from him as I carried the cat and headed into the garden. I wasn't going to let my cat stay out all night for some animal to poke at him.

Malachi followed me, complaining about how I was being stubborn but he stayed with me while I buried Faye.

When I was done I went inside. The party was over and the guests had all gone home. It was already late and windy.

I sneezed just as Malachi held me. We got to my room and he sat me down on his laps. I cringed inwardly.

“What do you want?” I snapped.

Malachi sighed, “What’s wrong, Rhea? I'll get you a new cat.”

“I want to leave, Malachi. Tomorrow,” I stated.

Malachi tensed, “Marc is a child. I don't trust anyone to take care of him except you. Besides, where do you want to go? It’s not like you have anyone else.”

I shrugged, “I’ll worry about that. I have no place here. You have refused to marry me after eight years.”

Malachi sighed, “I already told you, Rhea, I can't take another wife now.”

“I’m not asking you to. In fact, I don't want to marry you, I just want to leave.”

“Okay, why don't you have a child for me? That way I can secure your future and that of your child. If you have a child for me no one would dare say a bad word against you. And then Marc will have a little sibling.”

I smiled sadly. I had reduced myself to nothing and discarded my pride and yet eight years still he wants me to have an illegitimate child for him.

All this just to protect Marc and keep me in the same house as him.

“I’ve instructed the maid everything she needs to know about Marc. He's homeschooled so you can get the best tutors for him or send him to school. He doesn't need me again,” I stated.

Malachi kissed me, “Sleep on it and tell me how you feel in the morning.”

That night I didn't sleep a wink. I packed my luggage and I kept seeing the face of Faye.

Morning came sooner than expected and after a quick shower I dragged my suitcases outside.

It was finally happening. I was leaving.

But of course, I wasn’t going to leave in peace.

A slow clap echoed through the courtyard, followed by a familiar, mocking voice.

“Well, well, well,” Casey drawled, leaning against the pillar with a smirk. “Have you finally come to your senses?”

I sighed, Casey was Malachi’s mistress and Marc’s favorite.

I ignored her and kept walking, but she stepped into my path, tilting her head in amusement.

“Eight years, Rhea,” she continued, crossing her arms. “Eight years of playing house, of waiting for a man who never wanted you. And now, after all that time, you’re finally leaving.” She chuckled. “Took you long enough to realize that Malachi and Marc will never love you. You’ve been nothing but a worthless concubine.”

I met her gaze, my expression unreadable. “Enjoy it, then,” I said simply. “Do whatever you want. None of this concerns me anymore.”

Her smirk widened. “Oh, I will. Don’t worry,” she whispered. “Soon, I’ll move in and take your place.”

Before I could respond, the front doors swung open.

Malachi stepped out, followed closely by Marc.

And in an instant, Casey’s entire demeanor changed.

She gasped dramatically and dropped to her knees, clutching the hem of my dress as if her life depended on it.

“Rhea, please!” she sobbed, her voice thick with desperation. “Please don’t go! Marc needs you! You’ve been taking care of him all these years—how could you just leave him like this?”

I stared down at her blankly.

“Marc loves you, he really does,” she continued, her voice cracking. “He’s just a child! Please, don’t leave him. I’m so sorry for everything, just please, Rhea—”

Malachi let out a harsh sigh, his patience clearly worn thin.

“Enough of this nonsense,” he snapped. “Stop creating a scene and go back inside.” His eyes were cold, as they always were. “I’ll get you another cat if you want. Stop making Casey stress herself.”

I clenched my fists, but before I could say anything, Marc ran toward Casey, throwing his arms around her.

“Stand up, Casey,” he said softly, his small hands wiping away her fake tears. Then, his eyes met mine, burning with hatred. “You killed my mother with your wicked heart,” he spat, his voice filled with disgust. “And now you’re trying to hurt Casey, too!”

Marc turned back to Casey, his face softening. “Don’t cry, Casey. Don’t worry. Let Rhea go—I don’t want her in my life. I don’t need her.” He lifted his chin, his next words cutting deeper than any wound. “I want you to stay. You should be my mother. You should marry my father.”

He turned back to me, his eyes filled with nothing but scorn. “You’re a wicked woman with a bad heart. That’s why my father could never love you.” A slow, cruel smile tugged at his lips. “I’m happy you’re leaving.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and took one last look at the boy I had raised, the boy I had loved like my own.

“After eight years, if this is what you think of me… then there really is no point in me staying,” I said with a sigh.

Without another word, I turned and walked away.

Just as I was dragging my suitcase towards the gate, Marc pulled the crossbow and shot at my head.