03|I will kill you!

“Caleb… Caleb, wake up! Mommy is here, Mommy is here, please wake up!"

“You killed your son! If you had been there taking care of him, he wouldn’t have died that way! It’s all your fault!”

“Caleb fell down the stairs because of you. What kind of mother doesn’t look after her son? You’re always saying you’re busy. Are you busier than my son, the Alpha, himself?! You are not worthy to be the Luna!”

“Why weren’t you there to watch over our son? That’s why I’m saying you should be like your sister. This is all your fault, Eleanor! All your fault!”

I was in a daze. My mind went blank, my body froze. I couldn’t hear anything around me, couldn’t see anyone. All that tore through me were those words, sharp and unrelenting, slicing deeper than any blade.

“Our son… our son’s death wasn’t your fault… It was Mary who pushed him down the stairs… by accident.”

Before I could even process it, a tear slipped down my cheek. Then another. And another. My vision blurred as a raw, agonizing pain surged through me. I didn’t even realize I was speaking until a breathless whisper escaped my lips, slicing through the tense air.

“W-what did you just say?”

I forced myself to focus, narrowing my eyes on Ethan. He was crying, eyes downcast, refusing to meet mine. The masked men around us didn’t move, didn’t speak, they simply watched. I waited for Ethan to tell me it had been a mistake, but he didn’t.

Mary, beside me, began to stammer, her soft cries piercing the heavy silence.

“E-Eleanor, I—”

Before she could finish, something inside me shattered. A surge of raw strength, of rage, of desperate need for the truth, coursed through me. A scream tore from my chest, wild and unrestrained, as I slammed my hands against the ground, my eyes blazing red.

“I am speaking to you, Ethan! What did you say?! Tell me! Repeat what you’ve just said!!”

I roared, and he flinched, his eyes snapping to mine as if my fury had caught him completely off guard. As if he hadn’t expected me to react that way, even after confessing that my son’s death wasn’t an accident, as everyone had claimed.

That my five-year-old son hadn’t simply fallen down the stairs… he had been shoved. By my twin sister, Mary.

It couldn’t be true. No, it couldn’t.

That day, I had returned from the meeting Ethan had insisted I attend in his place. When I arrived at the packhouse, everyone was there: my parents, my brothers, my mother-in-law, and Mary with Ethan looking visibly shaken.

I had thought, at first, that they were going to accuse me of doing something to Mary again, that perhaps they were there to yell at me. But then…

“Your son fell down the stairs… by accident. He’s dead, and it’s all your fault for not watching him”

When I had heard those words, it had felt as though the world itself had stopped. I had desperately hoped, prayed it was a dream, or a cruel joke. But then I saw him: my boy, lifeless and cold on the ground.

And for the first time in my life, I broke completely, sobbing as everyone blamed me.

I had believed them. I had thought it was my fault, that I had been too wrapped up in Ethan’s work and had neglected Caleb. Since that day, I had buried myself in more tasks, trying to numb the pain. Caleb had been the only thing keeping me sane, my hope that someday everything would be better.

That had been a month ago.

But now…

“I—I am sorry, Eleanor. I am truly sorry. It was a mistake. Caleb saw Mary and me… being intimate, and when he ran out, Mary tried to stop him but… she pushed him off the stairs by accident. I am sorry.”

Now that my husband spoke those words,  reality crashed into me, my son’s death hadn’t been an accident. He had been shoved. Killed. By my sister. And my husband had known all along.

“No…” I whispered, shaking my head, refusing to accept what I was hearing. “You told me it was an accident. Everyone told me it was an accident. Dad, Mom, my brothers, your mother—”

“We all lied!”

Ethan cut me off sharply, his voice rising as he stared at me without a trace of remorse. Only frustration. Only exhaustion. Tears streamed down his face as he yelled,

“We all lied to keep Mary safe! We knew that if you found out, you would hurt your sister. You would never forgive her, so we all agreed to lie and keep it a secret!”

My eyes widened, my mouth falling open in a daze as every word sank into me.

“I- I am sorry, Eleanor. I really didn’t mean to, I swear!”

Mary cried out, her voice trembling, and Ethan continued.

“You knew I never loved you. You knew you weren’t the one I should have been with. I was sad when my son died too, Eleanor, but Mary is pregnant. She can give me another child. A child from someone I genuinely love, unlike you. Plus…” he whispered, shaking his head, “…it was more or less your fault. If you had been there that day, he wouldn’t have died. So don’t blame Mary. It is not her fault.”

I watched him say all of that so easily. So calmly as he reached up to wipe his tears, drawing in a shaky breath before closing his eyes and opening them again, turning toward the masked man with desperate hope.

“That is what you wanted to hear, right? I- I have said it. Please let me and Mary go. S-she is pregnant… please, let us go.”

He pleaded, his voice breaking.

The entire place fell silent.

The masked men didn’t laugh. They didn’t react. They only stared at Ethan with cold, disdainful eyes.

Then the same masked man from earlier clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“Tsk. Alright. Knock them out and take them away.”

He ordered casually.

Even without looking at them, I could feel it—the sudden wave of relief that washed over Ethan and Mary. The way their tense shoulders sagged, the way they exhaled like they had just escaped death.

The other masked men grumbled, already stepping forward to obey.

And then…

I laughed.

A slow, antagonizing laugh that crawled out from the deepest, darkest part of me.

My chest hurt. My throat clenched. Yet my laughter only grew louder, sharper, echoing through the silent space as everyone froze and jerked their heads toward me in shock.

Tears streamed down my face, dripping onto the ground, my lips stretching so wide it almost hurt as I laughed and cried at the same time.

All my life, I had always thought that I didn’t deserve to be loved. That I was a disappointment. But when the late Alpha asked me to protect his son, I had felt a sense of responsibility.

Yes, I never loved Ethan. All I ever felt toward him was the duty of fulfilling the wish of a dying man.

But now…

Now, all I felt was the urge to kill.

I wanted to kill the man I had sworn to protect.

I wanted to kill the woman who shared the same blood as me.

“I will kill you…”

I whispered shakily, my vision swimming, seeing nothing but red as the last bit of strength surged through me, a suffocating killing intent flooding the air as Ethan’s wide eyes met mine.

“E-Eleanor…”

He stammered, stunned.

“I will kill every one of you,” I whispered again, my voice breaking, barely able to hold onto my consciousness. “I will kill you… I will kill you!!”

This time, a piercing scream tore from my throat as I lunged forward, taking everyone by surprise. But instead of rushing straight at them, I veered toward one of the masked men. Before he could react, I yanked the sword from his grip and spun—

Straight toward Ethan.

His eyes went impossibly wide as he scrambled back, hands raised in panic.

“E-Eleanor, what are you doing—?!” he screamed.

I raised the sword high above my head, my gaze dazed, empty, like someone who had completely lost her sanity. The blade trembled in my grip as I brought it down toward him, however—

Thud!

A heavy force slammed into me from the side, pinning me to the ground. The sword slipped from my fingers, clattering loudly across the floor, but I didn’t stop struggling. I thrashed wildly, reaching out toward him, screaming hoarsely,

“I will kill you! I will kill you!!”

I watched, helplessly, as the masked man on top of me barked orders. I watched as Ethan and Mary were knocked unconscious.

I watched as they were carried away, dragged out of my sight… and still, I didn’t stop struggling.

My vision blurred, darkening at the edges as I stretched my hand toward them, as if I could still pull them back and end them myself.

But I couldn’t.

I was powerless.

I was weak.

I had told myself that I was strong. That even without a wolf, I had my sword.

I had thought that was enough. Enough to prove that I deserved to be loved too. That I deserved to be seen, just like Mary.

But it had never been enough.

My husband and my twin had an affair.

My twin killed my son.

My family and his mother covered it up… and blamed everything on me.

And now, I was about to meet my end.

Tears flowed helplessly as I continued to struggle against the man pinning me down, my strength fading, my consciousness slipping away.

Yet, even then, I only wanted one thing.

If I was going to die…

Let me avenge my son.

Let me kill them and drag them to hell with me.

Let me have my revenge.

“Do you want revenge?”

Just as my eyes began to flutter shut and my struggling grew weaker, I heard his voice.

Deep. Dry. Emotionless.

Through my fading vision, I heard slow, measured footsteps approaching. Then I saw him—

A man walking toward me, unhurried, steady, as if he had all the time in the world.

The man on top of me immediately stood up and stepped aside the moment he arrived.

The stranger stopped right in front of me and spoke again.

“Do you want them to feel it, that same helplessness… the same crushing despair of watching everything ripped away, piece by piece, just as you do now?  Tell me, Eleanor Blackwell… just how far can you go for revenge?”

His voice echoed in my ears.

Even through the haze clouding my mind, I didn’t hesitate.

My voice slipped out, soft, barely audible.

“Revenge… I-I want revenge. Anything… I will do anything.”

I gasped weakly, my trembling hand reaching toward his shoes as another tear slid down my cheek.

Please… let me have my revenge.

I wanted to say it aloud, but my lips refused to move.

And then—

The man crouched down.

He leaned closer, cold, empty eyes staring down at me, and when I managed to catch a clear glimpse of his face, everything inside me went cold.

It was him.

The air around us shifted. The entire space fell into a suffocating, deadly silence as the corners of his lips slowly curved upward.

A smile.

One that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

One that looked like the devil himself had carved it onto his face.

“I will help you get your revenge,” he said softly.

Those were the last words I heard before darkness swallowed me whole.

And as everything faded away, another voice, faint, distant, from five years ago,  slid back into my mind.

“I want you to protect my second son, Ethan. Be his wife and marry him, please… I need you to protect him from his older brother, Alexander