Chapter 03

A trial for a dead woman? I almost laughed. It was a soundless, bitter thing.

At the word "trial," Vivian's face went sheet-white. She clutched Oliver tighter, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

"It's all my fault," she sobbed. "If I hadn't begged you to save Oliver, Valentina wouldn't hate me, and Mia wouldn't have..."

She couldn't finish, instead raking her own nails down her face.

Three bloody lines welled up instantly.

Alexander lunged, grabbing her wrist. "Vivian, what are you doing?"

"Let me die," she cried hysterically. "If I die, maybe Valentina will forgive me and come out of hiding to save Oliver..."

Her words twisted in Alexander's gut like a knife. He gently stroked the wounds on her face, his own eyes filling with a venomous rage.

"Don't you dare say that!" Alexander gritted out. "The one who deserves to die isn't you. It's that selfish bitch!"

I watched coldly from my place in the air.

Vivian had perfected the art of playing the victim. In a few sentences, she had masterfully redirected Alexander’s fury back toward me and cemented his pity for her.

She did the same thing three years ago. Every time she stirred up trouble, she would play the innocent, making Alexander believe I was the one tormenting her.

Alexander pulled Vivian into a fierce embrace, stroking her hair. "Don't be afraid. I will make her pay."

He turned to Marcus, his voice iron. "Go to the isolation ward. Bring me Rebecca."

At the sound of that name, my soul jolted violently.

Rebecca—my mother.

"Since her daughter refuses to show herself," he snarled, "her mother can suffer the consequences."

Marcus nodded grimly and left.

Ice filled the space where my heart used to be.

Three years ago, after Mia and I were murdered, my mother’s mind shattered. She’d wandered the pack lands, a ghost in her own right, manically searching for us and vowing to find our killer.

Worried she would tarnish the pack's reputation, Alexander had her locked away in the isolation ward for "mental instability."

It was a place for wolves with fractured spirits and high criminals. A pit of despair.

And now, he was going to use my poor, broken mother to threaten a dead woman?

Half an hour later, two pack warriors dragged a skeletal figure into the infirmary.

I almost didn't recognize her.

Three years of isolation had left my mother gaunt, her hair streaked with white. She could barely hold her human form, her wolf pressing at the seams of her skin.

But her eyes still burned with a defiant light.

"You!" she shrieked, her voice a rusty blade. "You're the ones who killed my Valentina and my Mia!"

She tore free from the warriors' grasp and lunged for Vivian.

But Alexander kicked her, sending her flying. My mother slammed into the far wall and coughed up a thick spray of blood.

"The old bitch still has some fight in her," Alexander sneered, glaring down at her. "It seems the isolation ward hasn't taught you any lessons."

My mother struggled to her knees. "You're murderers! I want you to pay with your lives!"

"Pay with our lives?" Alexander scoffed. "Your daughter murdered her own child out of spite and is now a fugitive. What right does a crazy old woman like you have to demand anything from me?"

He knelt, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head back.

"Listen to me, Rebecca. I'm giving Valentina three hours. If she doesn't show herself, you will take the Alpha's punishment for her."

His voice dropped, cold and precise. "Pack Law, Article Thirteen: A Luna who betrays the mate bond shall have her wolf spirit stripped from her body and be exiled from this world. Since she isn't here, you, her mother, will take her place."

Hearing this, my mother began to laugh.

It was a sharp, desperate sound that clawed at the walls of the infirmary.

"Hahaha… you want to find Valentina?" she cackled through her tears. "Valentina isn't coming back."

Alexander frowned. "What do you mean?"

My mother used every last ounce of her strength to roar, "Because she's already dead!"