#Chapter 3: Forgotten Birthday

Rita’s POV

My birthday was today, and no one seemed to remember.

The twins had stopped giving me birthday cards when I turned fifteen—the year that Olive’s birthday celebrations overshadowed mine. I should have come to accept it by now, and it shouldn’t have hurt me so much anymore after three years of no birthdays, but it still did.

At least this was my eighteenth birthday. At any point in the next day or so, I should be able to meet my fated mate—the moment that all young werewolves dreamed of—and then the three years of suffering would end.

I would finally find someone who loved me, deeply and truly, and I could leave the Lopez family behind for good.

That flicker of hope was what kept me going through the painstaking birthday party preparations.

Olive was turning eighteen, too. The twins, of course, had decided to throw her a lavish party before the new school term would begin.

Most of the other servants had been dismissed from the task due to the twins’ exacting standards, however, which left the bulk of the preparations to me. It was only noon, and I had already spent hours blowing up balloons, cutting streamers, and carefully arranging floral displays.

By my hands, the banquet hall had been transformed into a birthday wonderland. The beams were festooned with banners that I’d had to hang by standing on the highest rung of the ladder. The tables were laden with extravagant centerpieces and delicate lace cloths. Balloons of all shapes, sizes, and colors were tied to every pillar.

I was arranging a wreath on the back of Olive’s honorary seat when the double doors swung open, and Olive strutted into the room. She wore a brand new pink gown that looked like it cost a fortune, bedecked with sparkling diamonds and a layered tulle skirt that flared out in a long train behind her.

“Isn’t it lovely?” she asked, twirling in front of me so the massive skirt flared out. “The twins had it commissioned for me to wear tonight!”

It made my chest ache, because I knew I would be wearing a servant’s uniform, forced to serve food and drinks tonight, when it was my birthday, too.

I tried not to think about the fact that the twins used to shower me with gifts on my birthday, too.

"Indeed, very beautiful, but it can't conceal your true heart," I said to her.

Olive’s upper lip curled back to reveal a sneer. “Oh, don’t be so jealous, Rita. It’s not like you could fit in this dress anyway.” She ran her hands over the slender bodice. “Maybe you could wear one of the balloons instead? They might just be stretchy enough.”

My cheeks flushed as she turned and sauntered away, leaving me to my work. I picked up a silver plate and studied my reflection for a moment. I twirled a strand of jet black hair around my finger, blinked my dark eyes, then traced my thumb across my full lips before I tilted the plate down to look at my figure.

I really wasn’t overweight. Not even close; I was nearly emaciated by now, being forced to eat scraps for years. But I had always been curvy, with a well-endowed chest and a round bottom that I’d gotten from years of horseback riding.

I shook my head and set the plate down, refusing to let Olive’s words get to me.

Besides, my mate would love me, no matter what I looked like.

By that evening, the mansion was packed with guests. Young werewolves from all over the pack had gathered to celebrate Olive’s birthday. Females in decadent gowns glided across the room, while males in perfectly-tailored suits trailed after them. Alcohol flowed freely, and the guests lost themselves to the deafening music.

As for me, I was invisible. Nothing more than a pair of hands carrying a tray of champagne.

“I wonder who the heiress’s fated mate will be,” one guest remarked to another as she grabbed a flute from my tray.

The other guest giggled. “I’m more concerned about the twins’ mate. They still haven’t found one; and since they’re twins, everyone knows they’ll share a mate.” She sighed dreamily. “Oh, how I would love to be the lucky woman blessed by the Goddess Luna like that…”

“You? With two handsome male mates?” The first woman laughed, throwing her head back. “Nora, you’d be lucky to have even one male who’s interested in someone like you.”

I turned and walked away before I could hear the rest of the catty conversation. It was almost absurd to me, thinking about being the fated mate of Caspar and Cedric. Rather than luck, it sounded like sheer misfortune. They’d surely mistreat their mate the moment she no longer pleased them, and besides, they never showed an interest in settling down.

Still, I had my own little secret today. Even though I wore my maid’s uniform, I had taken care to style my hair as best I could, and had even managed to procure a small bottle of mascara and a tube of lipstick from some loose change I found lying around the mansion over the past few months.

Today, the Moon Goddess would grant me a fated mate to rescue me from this misery. I already imagined a kind-hearted, reliable young man who would love me and sweep me off my feet. It didn’t matter what he looked like, so long as we loved each other.

It was that thought that kept me moving through the crowd, quietly scanning the faces and scents of the many males in attendance for the one who would be mine.

Unfortunately, I didn’t spot my mate. My hopes began to die out; maybe he wasn’t here tonight.

Just as I was truly losing hope, a sudden scent washed over me. It was pleasant and unlike anything I’d ever felt before—coming from a crowd nearby.

My heart leapt. I set aside my tray and began to move toward the scent, following it like an invisible thread. Up ahead, I spotted a head of golden hair and a tall frame moving away from me. I picked up my pace to catch up with him, but I soon lost him in the crowd.

Biting my lip, I stood on my tiptoes, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man.

“What are you doing?”

Caspar suddenly grabbed my wrist, pulling me away. He and Cedric appeared in front of me, both frowning.

“Shirking your duties again?” Cedric growled while Caspar took me by the shoulders and wheeled me away. “Hurry up! It’s almost time for Olive’s grand entrance!”

…

Third Person POV

Suddenly, a crowd of women surged around the twins. They were all beautiful, preening and flirting, hoping to catch the twins’ interest. Normally, the twins would have gladly swept a few girls off their feet and taken them to bed for a night of passion and excitement.

But today, the brothers didn’t care about girls or drinking. Their sole focus was on ensuring that Olive, the lost sister who had endured so much during the first fifteen years of her life, had the perfect eighteenth birthday celebration.

Especially since she had nearly died at Rita’s jealous hands not even a week ago.

Through their shared bond, the twins were haunted by memories of the time when Rita was still their beloved sister.

Back then, she had come first—before any woman. Once, when they were in bed with a lover whose moans had woken Rita, they sent the woman away without a second thought to comfort their sleepy sister back to sleep.

After all, their mother had died giving birth to their sister, and they had always known she was the most precious person in it to them.

So when Olive finally came home—their true blood sister, who had suffered for years outside the pack—the guilt was crushing. All that love they'd given Rita, they should have been saving for Olive. And now they had to make it right. They had to give Olive everything.

But the more they tried to protect Olive, the more Rita changed. Her face turned ugly with jealousy. Olive would come to them in tears, showing bruises Rita left where no one else could see, whispering of traps laid and trust betrayed.

And the twins were left asking themselves: How could they keep loving someone who had become so cruel?

Finally, the doors swung open, and Caspar and Cedric turned to look. Olive stepped into the room, looking utterly breathtaking in the gown they had had specially made just for tonight. She beamed like a ray of sunlight, golden hair catching the flickering candles, and stretched her hands out toward the twins.

“You really do look like a grown woman now, sister,” Cedric said, kissing Olive’s right hand.

Caspar kissed her left and smiled. “Tonight, you’ll meet your mate, and he’ll be a lucky man indeed.”

Despite their smiles, however, through the bond the twins shared, they each felt a pang of nervousness.

Yes, inexplicably, even as these thoughts crowded their minds, the twins’ blue eyes kept drifting toward Rita.

“Did you smell that, brother?” Caspar turned to Cedric, whispering through the mindlink.

Cedric nodded slowly. They had both picked up that sweet, captivating scent, and strangely, it was emanating from none other than Rita—who silently held the train of Olive’s gown.

Was it possible that Rita, the false sister who had tried to murder Olive mere days ago, was their fated mate?