Chapter 3

Regardless of how numb my body was from the cold, I hurried to the market to buy crabs.

Handling them was difficult, and soon my hands were covered in itchy red welts.

But thinking that it might be the last dinner I'd ever share with my family, I endured the discomfort and forced myself to carry on.

By the time I finished cooking, Dad and Alex came in—with Sophia trailing behind them.

When I brought the dishes to the table, I glanced across the hall.

The atmosphere there was warm, almost cheerful.

Dad, who was always tied up with pack affairs, now sat opposite Sophia, listening intently as she talked about her experiences in the Challenge.

Alex reached over and snatched an apple from Sophia's hand just as she was about to peel it, playfully scolding her.

"Be careful with that! You're too clumsy to be cutting things. From now on, peeling apples is my job."

To my surprise, my ex-mate John also arrived—with his parents.

It was clear they were far more satisfied with Sophia, John's current mate.

John sat beside her, gazing at her with a doting smile in his eyes.

He would always hand her a glass of water just in time whenever Sophia grew tired from talking too much.

Meanwhile, I sat there, unnoticed—just like countless times before.

As long as Sophia was around, it was as if I didn't exist.

The hall where they gathered buzzed with warmth and laughter, while the dining room where I remained felt cold and silent.

Sometimes, I almost forgot—

The place she sat in used to be mine.

I was once the center of their attention, the one everyone surrounded and smiled at.

"Zoe, why not come join us?" someone called. "Don't just stand there alone!"

Alex sneered, "Better not. She always ruins the mood when she shows up.""I just don't get it," he added, glancing at Sophia. "You're both my sisters, but why can't she be as sweet and simple as you?"

I clenched my teeth, holding back the tears that threatened to spill.

Instead, I forced a smile.

"It's okay… I won't join. Dinner's ready. You can start eating."

I placed the final dish on the table, only to realize all the seats were already taken by the six of them.

Sophia was in my seat.

The others—Dad, Alex, John, and his parents—filled the rest.

Alex looked up at me, as if he wanted to say something.

But before he could, I turned and walked back into the kitchen, carrying my bowl in silence.

For a brief moment, I thought I saw a flicker of regret in his eyes.

But it vanished quickly—replaced by a soft smile as he began peeling shrimp for Sophia.

There was nothing left for me to eat.

All the dishes had been served.

I stared down at my empty bowl, a heavy weight sinking in my chest.

No one had invited me to sit with them. No one even remembered I was there.

Alone in the kitchen, surrounded by empty pans and food scraps, I stood still.

Laughter and joyful chatter spilled from the hall, each sound a cruel reminder.

I had no appetite—just a bitter smile curling on my lips.

At last, I stepped out of the kitchen and looked toward the dinner table from the doorway—

A silent observer to a world I no longer belonged in.

Since Sophia liked seafood, everyone at the table was serving it to her.

Some were peeling shrimp, while others were cracking crab shells for her.

John's parents used to like me a lot, but now, they adored this newcomer as if she were their own daughter.

They even regretted not being able to give her all their affection and attention.

As I watched the cheerful atmosphere in the dining hall, I couldn't help but remember the moments when I was the one sitting in the very seat Sophia now occupied.

It used to be me—surrounded, cherished, and spoiled by everyone.

I was so lost in those memories that I didn't realize my gaze had met Alex's.

Before I could look away, he had already caught me.

His once-warm eyes suddenly turned cold.

Flustered and embarrassed, I fled to the kitchen.

In my haste, I didn't notice the pan on the floor.

I tripped over it, and the glass lid shattered into pieces with a loud crash.

As soon as he heard the sound, my dad stopped peeling the shrimp.

With a sneer, he said, "I knew her apology wasn't sincere. She never wanted to cook dinner in the first place. And now? She's throwing a tantrum by slamming plates and bowls in the kitchen! Look at her—breaking things to get attention. What a vulgar display! Clearly, no one ever taught her how to behave."

I struggled to stand up in the darkness, my knees throbbing with pain.

My palms were bleeding, cut open by the shattered glass on the floor.

I just wanted to tell him—it wasn't intentional.

I didn't mean to cause trouble. I had simply slipped, nothing more.

But deep down, I knew—there was no point.

No one would believe me.

To them, I was just putting on another act.

John's mom cast a quick glance toward the kitchen, a flicker of regret flashing in her eyes.

"It's understandable for Zoe to lose her temper," she said gently. "She prepared the whole dinner by herself—she must be exhausted."

"It's our fault for not noticing there's one chair missing. John, go bring another chair over so Zoe can sit."

I was brought back to the table—pushed, really—under the judging eyes of everyone there.

Their stares weren't warm. They were cold, disapproving, as if I had done something shameful.

"Zoe," John's mom said softly, her tone laced with concern, "you look so pale and fragile. And it's only been ten days since I last saw you."

"You must be worn out. Come, eat more, dear. You need to take care of yourself."

My father looked like he was about to say something.

He studied me with narrowed eyes, guarded and doubtful—but for the briefest moment, I caught a flicker of pain in his gaze, as if some part of him still remembered how to care.

But before he could speak, Sophia's eyes flicked sideways—just a subtle shift, a calculated gleam flashing through them, as if a plan had just formed in her mind.

Then, without warning, she rolled her eyes back dramatically and let out a piercing cry, clutching her chest in apparent agony.

"So... so terrible... My wolf feels awful..." she gasped, her voice trembling with just enough fragility to draw everyone's attention.

Panic broke out in an instant. My dad, Alex, and John all rushed to her side.

Then someone noticed it—the small red welts appearing on Sophia's hands and claws.

My father's face fell. He exhaled heavily, the sound thick with dread.

"Her wolf... she's having an allergic reaction... but how? How could she have been exposed?"

A moment of silence passed. Then something seemed to click in his mind.

He turned to me, his expression twisting into something cold—accusing.

Before I even had time to react, his hand flew through the air and struck my cheek, hard.

The slap rang through the room like thunder.

"Is it you who's trying to kill her wolf? How dare you... How could I have raised such a vicious she-wolf?"

His slap came without warning, and I collapsed to the ground, my face burning with pain.

My wolf trembled inside me, still too stunned to grasp what had just happened.

The rest of the family stood frozen for a moment—then their eyes turned on me, full of contempt.

I could feel it... their wolves stirring just beneath the surface, ready to strike.

My face went pale. My lips trembled.

"I didn't..."

But it didn't matter. It never did.

Just like all the times before, no one cared to hear my voice. No one wanted the truth.

Alex clenched his jaw, then barked at me,

"How can I have a sister like you? You've brought shame to the entire pack!"

"No wonder you insisted on cooking for Sophia tonight! You were planning this from the start—trying to harm her wolf on purpose!"

John stood by, silent at first, then cast a scornful glance down at me.

His words, though calm, cut deeper than a blade.

"Mom, now you see why I never liked her," he said coldly to the only person who had ever shown me a shred of kindness.

"She's manipulative. I was terrified at the thought of claiming someone so vicious as my mate."

John's mom looked like she was about to speak—maybe defend me—but then Dad, clutching Sophia in his arms, shouted over her voice:

"Enough! We need to get Sophia to the infirmary—she's in danger!"

And just like that, they all rushed out.

Alex carried Sophia on his back, the others trailing close behind.

No one even looked back.

I was left alone, collapsed on the cold floor, one hand pressed to my swollen cheek.

As the door slammed shut behind them, my tears finally fell, uncontrollably.

Yes. As always.

As long as Sophia was involved, they would never believe me.

Not even once.

It felt like a dagger was being pushed deeper into my heart, slowly, cruelly.

My wolf's voice echoed in my head, weak but firm:

"This is the last time they'll hurt us."

Yes. She was right.

I would leave.

I would never return.

They would never see me again—

And my heart... my heart would never be theirs to break again.