Louise's POV

I tipped the wineglass and drained its final drop, placing it back down with a soft clink. My fingers quivered as I released it.

"She's still your flesh and blood, Alpha Derick," Phyllis declared, rising in my defense. If I hadn’t personally witnessed his hesitation before, I might’ve made the mistake of thinking his concern was genuine. "She looks frail—barely holding herself up. She needs proper nourishment. The council even acknowledged there were inconsistencies in the case. There’s still a chance she didn’t take Chelsea… or end her life."

My father’s fury exploded like wildfire. "You can buy the illusion of truth with enough silver!" he snapped, his voice sharp and venomous. "Louise can spin all the lies she wants, but reality always claws its way to the surface! And it has! I’m sickened—utterly disgusted to be the father of someone who could kill her own sister!"

The way his glare seared into me felt like a knife slicing straight through my chest.

"I want you gone from my presence!" he roared, jabbing a finger toward the doorway like it was a weapon. "Get out, you filthy murderer!"

My throat tightened with emotion, but I refused to let myself cry. I forced my chin up, keeping my gaze fixed on him with as much strength as I could muster.

"Alpha—"

Phyllis tried again, but I cut him off before he could say more.

"You don’t have to stand up for me, Phyllis. I’ll follow his orders."

Without looking back, I turned and exited the room.

Phyllis remained behind.

When I stepped into what used to be my bedroom, I came to a halt. My mother was seated on the edge of the bed, her back stiff and her expression unreadable.

She stood as soon as she noticed me.

"This room no longer belongs to you," she said coldly. "It’s not appropriate. A servant will handle your belongings and move them to a more… suitable space."

I parted my lips, instinctively wanting to call her Mom—but I hesitated. Her earlier declaration echoed in my mind. She didn’t want that title from me anymore.

"Alright," I whispered quietly.

She strode toward the door, pausing just before she crossed the threshold.

"In three days, we mark Chelsea’s birthday," she said, her voice devoid of affection. "You will kneel at her empty grave and admit where you buried her body. Confess. Maybe then we can begin to mend the devastation you brought upon us." She paused, her eyes briefly shimmering with something I couldn’t decipher. "If Kian were still alive, he would’ve made sure you paid for what happened. He’d never have forgiven you—just like we won’t."

Then she left, the sound of the door closing behind her like a final verdict.

That was when the tears finally broke free. My legs buckled, and I collapsed to the floor, the cold stone against my skin offering no comfort. My sobs were quiet but violent, wracking my body with sorrow too deep for words.

I no longer had a family.

There was no love left for me in this world.

Nothing remained.

Except—my wolf.

She hadn’t surrendered. She still burned with the desire to survive. To unearth the truth.

But how much longer could I endure this?

The wounds were too deep.

And soon, my vision would be lost forever. The attack from that day—acid splashed across my face, my head cracking against stone—had left damage my wolf couldn’t repair.

And Phyllis... If he had truly cared, maybe I wouldn’t feel this shattered.

They relocated me to a small, cramped space near the servants' quarters. I nearly laughed. That’s how low I’d sunk in their eyes. They had never truly seen me as one of their own.

Still, there was a bed.

It wasn’t like the ice-cold cell where I’d once been caged, forced to lie on the floor and wait for the end. Even during the harshest winters, my parents hadn’t spared me a blanket.

The only source of warmth had come from someone anonymous. A thick winter coat. A heavy wool blanket.

"The comfort of a killer? Not deserved," the guards had sneered.

A killer.

Was I truly one?

Some nights, I almost believed it. Almost wished it were real. Because then at least the suffering might have some justification.

But the pain never stopped.

I barely slept. This new room wasn’t freedom—it was just a prettier cage.

Why stay here?

Nobody wanted me.

I stared at myself in the cracked, foggy mirror mounted on the wall. My reflection gave me a bitter grin.

Tomorrow would be Chelsea’s birthday.

I missed her so much.

Her laugh, her light, her innocence.

Who did this to you, Chelsea?

Who took you away?

That question haunted me endlessly—from the day she vanished, from the moment we saw that horrifying photo of her bloodied, lifeless body. No one had located it. No one admitted to sending it. But still, they pointed fingers at me.

How could anyone hurt such a pure, joyful soul?

I couldn’t breathe in that suffocating room a moment longer.

As I walked through the halls, whispers trailed after me like ghosts. Murderer. Monster.

I kept my eyes low, my vision warping until I collided with a table and a vase toppled. It crashed to the floor, scattering in jagged shards. I knelt quickly to clean it, my head spinning. My left eye gave me nothing but a hazy blur. I blinked, trying to focus—

"You!"

That voice froze the blood in my veins.

My father.

"How dare you show yourself!" he bellowed, advancing on me. "You murderer!"

He seized my arm violently, pain shooting through it like fire. His grip felt like it would shatter bone. Then he shoved me away with loathing.

"I didn’t mean to—" I tried to explain, but my words were faint.

My stomach twisted with dread.

The vase I’d broken… it wasn’t ordinary.

It had held Kian’s ashes.

His urn.

"I—No—I didn’t know—"

The slap landed so quickly I didn’t even see it coming.

The sound echoed. My ears rang.

"You destroyed him! Just like you destroyed Chelsea!" he thundered.

I reached for my cheek, already feeling the sting of blood from where his ring had split my skin. My hand trembled.

I stared at him—the man who once held me as a child.

And for the first time, it became devastatingly clear.

I was no longer his daughter.

Not now.

Maybe not ever again.

Louise's POV

"Don't ever come back here again! I warned you, didn't I? How could you not understand? You carry the blood of evil! You are no daughter of mine!"

My father's voice echoed like thunder in the room, filled with nothing but loathing. There was no affection in his eyes. No care. Just revulsion.

Why had I come back?

What was the purpose of this pain?

My eyes blurred with tears. "I'm sorry… I never intended for things to end up like this."

"Get her out of my sight! Take her to her quarters!" he shouted.

Without a shred of kindness, two guards seized me, their grip harsh and unforgiving, treating me like some criminal off the street. Not like the Alpha’s daughter. Not even like a person.

They threw me into my room, and I collapsed onto the floor with a heavy thud. I didn’t move. I simply stared at the ceiling, detached from everything.

Why did I return at all?

The ache inside me was suffocating—an unbearable weight.

Why was I still breathing? Just to be called a killer? To be rejected by my own family? Betrayed by the one person I had given my heart to?

Moon Goddess, what sin did I commit to deserve this torment?

My wolf whimpered quietly within me, sensing my torment and heartbreak. She urged me to endure, to fight for what was right.

But what remained worth fighting for?

I forced myself to sit up and glanced down at my trembling hands—bloodied and torn, the wounds refusing to close quickly.

I had nothing left to give.

I’d never been the kind to harbor hate. Perhaps that was my fatal flaw. Maybe I was foolish to still feel anything for people who only wished I’d disappear.

I laughed. A cold, bitter laugh that filled the silence like shattered glass. It felt unhinged. Like I was slipping into madness.

When Chelsea’s birthday came, I still went. The entire pack gathered to honor her memory as if she were still among them. I stood at a distance, unnoticed, watching as they lifted her framed portrait onto a temporary altar. She looked young. Radiant.

I wore the dress she had picked for me—a modest blue one.

Charlene approached with a soft smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Did Mom ask you to come, Louise? You really shouldn’t be here…” She sounded concerned, but I knew it was just an act.

Phyllis stood beside her, offering no words, no comfort. He avoided my eyes entirely. He looked… embarrassed.

Suddenly, my mother appeared and grabbed my arm, her grip iron-tight, dragging me forward without a word of explanation.

She led me directly to the empty casket.

“Kneel,” she commanded sharply. “Tell us where our Chelsea is buried.”

As if I wasn’t her child. As if I didn’t matter at all.

Then my father stormed up, his rage almost palpable. "Have you lost your mind, My Luna? Why would you bring her here?"

“She belongs here,” my mother replied firmly. “She needs to atone for her sins. She must tell us where Chelsea’s remains are.”

I stared down at the casket, cold and hollow.

Would my death bring them peace?

No.

They’d rejoice. They’d claim justice had prevailed. That the monster had been slain.

"My Luna, Alpha Derick… Please reconsider," Charlene whispered, holding Chelsea’s beloved doll—the same one I had chosen, the one Kian had given her.

My breath faltered.

The memory crashed down on me like a tidal wave.

Kian had been thrilled when I picked that doll. Chelsea had adored it. She carried it with her everywhere.

And the day after… Kian was gone.

Killed by rogues while managing a territorial dispute. He had been the future Alpha. But fate had stolen that future.

The entire Night Owl Pack mourned his loss.

But I wasn’t allowed to.

Because right after we buried Kian… Chelsea disappeared.

My gaze landed on Phyllis. He was finally looking at me, and there was something different in his eyes this time. Something softer.

"Charlene speaks with reason, Alpha Derick," he said gently.

"You still stand by the woman who took our only son’s child from us?" my father barked. "Are you blind, Alpha Phyllis?"

Phyllis clenched his jaw. “Is love that easy for you to discard, Alpha Derick? She is your daughter. I still care for her.”

“You care?” My father let out a cruel laugh. “You have feelings for a murderer?”

Whispers stirred among the pack—wolves from allied clans and neighboring territories—all murmuring my name like it was filth. The disgrace of Night Owl.

“She’s no daughter of mine,” my father declared, venom lacing every word. “She killed Chelsea. Her death would be justice!”

That was when I saw it.

Phyllis’s face turned red—not with anger, but humiliation.

Not because of me.

Because of himself.

Because he wasn’t standing beside me out of loyalty or love—he was doing it to save face in front of the others.

He didn’t love me.

Because if he did, he would’ve stayed. He would’ve believed in me.

I had thought Phyllis understood me more than anyone ever could. But I had been wrong.

No one truly knew who I was.

With slow, heavy steps, I walked toward the casket.

I lowered myself to my knees.

A shocked gasp spread through the crowd like wildfire.

Then came silence.

They were all watching.

Waiting.

Waiting for the confession that would never come.

Louise's POV

"Now that you’re finally seeing things clearly, confess," my mother urged, her voice quivering with fragile hope. "Do it for Chelsea." Every syllable carried the weight of her sorrow and longing, her anguish bleeding through her words.

Tears clouded my vision as I gazed at Chelsea’s photo—propped delicately atop her coffin. I could almost hear her again—gentle, vibrant, full of life.

"My beautiful Auntie! Come on, play with your adorable niece!"

Her giggles echoed in my ears, so vivid it felt like she was still here. I saw her jumping onto my bed, laughter spilling from her lips as she planted kisses on my cheeks.

"Come on, wake up! Let’s play already!"

I used to hold her close, tickling her until she squealed with delight, the room bursting with joy and warmth.

Now, only silence remained.

An empty ache expanded in my chest. My throat constricted, and before I could stop myself, I broke into sobs.

"Please, Louise," my mother implored again.

"Tell us the truth, Louise," Charlene added, her voice cracked and desperate.

The pain clawed at my insides. My hands gripped my chest, as if I could stop myself from falling apart. My voice shook as I spoke.

"I'm so sorry, Chelsea," I whispered through the tears.

I cried harder. "I’m sorry I failed you. I should’ve protected you. I made a promise and I broke it. I couldn’t keep you safe. I couldn’t get you the justice you deserve."

"What are you saying? Just tell us what really happened!" my mother snapped, her composure crumbling.

"I’m sorry..." My words quivered. "Sorry that you’re blaming someone who isn’t responsible. Sorry that—"

A sudden, violent tug on my hair silenced me.

Charlene.

Her fingers twisted into my hair, her fury flaring with every syllable. "Sorry for what, Louise? Just tell me where my baby’s body is! Stop hiding behind lies!"

"I didn’t hurt Chelsea!" I screamed, voice ragged from anguish. "I swear on the Moon Goddess! On my life—I swear I’m innocent!"

Charlene’s grip loosened, her face streaked with tears.

Phyllis rushed to her side, wrapping her in his arms. Then he faced me, his eyes ablaze with hatred.

"Why can’t you just admit it, Louise?" His tone was cutting, detached. "That’s all your family wants—to know where Chelsea is. Just tell us."

I stared at him, my heart fracturing again.

"I’ve told you already—I didn’t take her. I never laid a hand on Chelsea!" I dropped to my knees on the cold floor. "Why won’t anyone believe me? Why does no one trust me?"

My father stepped forward, his expression unreadable. My mother’s was twisted with rage and unbearable grief.

"How are we supposed to believe a murderer? A liar?" my father barked. "Even the Moonstone revealed your guilt!" His hand lunged forward and clamped around my throat.

I gasped for breath. My lungs screamed, my vision dimmed.

"Would the Moonstone lie?!" he roared. "Why won’t you admit what you did?! You’re a monster—you deserve death!"

I didn’t resist. I just stared at him—the man who once called me his little girl.

And then, I let out a cold, bitter smile.

"Then kill me," I croaked. "Isn’t that what you all want? The killer dead?"

His hands began to shake where they held me. Then suddenly, he let go, and I collapsed to the polished floor, gasping for air.

"Kill you?" His voice was like ice. "No. Death is too easy. You’ll suffer for what you’ve done. I won’t let a Gorman get away with murder—not even if she’s my own flesh and blood. As Alpha of Night Owl, I will make sure justice is done."

I pushed myself up slowly, my limbs weak, but my voice firm.

"You talk so much about justice," I said, pain laced in my words. "But you’ve never given me fairness. You didn’t even try to hear me out. You didn’t ask for the truth. You just threw me away—like a criminal—without a shred of proof."

A sharp slap rang through the room.

My face exploded in pain. I tasted blood on my lips.

"You will not speak to the Alpha that way!" my mother hissed.

Despite it all—despite how they had hurt me so deeply—I still cared.

I still loved them.

"I’ve respected you all my life," I said quietly, my voice turning cold. "But now I finally understand… I’ve had enough."

Another slap. This one from my father.

"Say another word and you’ll get more than that," he growled through gritted teeth.

I laughed bitterly. "Don’t worry. I’m done talking." I lifted my chin, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Believe whatever suits you. I won’t waste another breath trying to change your minds."

I turned my back on them and walked away.

My vision wavered, the world spinning as despair and exhaustion weighed heavy on me. Still, I kept moving—past the pack hall, past the main house—further away from the people I once called family.

I reached up, fingers brushing against the chain around my neck—the one that held the ring Phyllis had given me. A symbol of a love that had never been real.

I tore it off and flung it as far as I could.

There was nothing left for me here.

Nothing worth staying for.

Nothing worth living for.

Today, I would end it all.