5: Not Helping You This Time

FREYA'S POV

My father struggled to answer.

My mother caught the guilt on his face immediately. "You're still backing them?"

"I knew his father, back when he was still alive. I've been quietly sending them support..."

"Alpha Everhart! After everything the old Redwood Alpha did behind our backs, after what it cost this pack, there isn't a decent bone left in that bloodline. Why haven't you learned?"

Something in me went cold and steady, hearing it.

Exactly like last time.

In my last life, my father had propped up the Redwood pack out of old loyalty to a dead friend, and it kept them from collapsing right when they should have. His mother used that soft spot to angle her son straight at me. And once the Redwoods had drained everything useful out of the Everhart name, they'd tossed us aside like we'd never mattered.

That was the Redwood pack. That was Kade.

"Dad, we should pull our support now, before it's too late. I've heard their creditors are already circling. If they find out we're the ones keeping the pack afloat, they'll come after us next."

My father's face changed the second I said creditors. In our world, debts didn't stay financial for long.

"And after the way he spoke to me tonight," I added, "he clearly has no respect for what we've given his pack. So why keep giving it?"

"She's right," my mother said. "That boy humiliated our daughter. We owe him nothing."

My father nodded, resolved. "Freya's right. I'll have it pulled first thing tomorrow. We are not letting that ungrateful pack drag us down with them."

I nodded, satisfied.

None of what I'd said was invented. In my last life, this exact dinner was the night Kade and I were formally bonded and days later, creditors tore through the Redwood estate, breaking everything in sight. My father quietly settled the debt out of his own pocket to keep the peace. Kade never thanked him for it. If anything, it only deepened his resentment, convinced the Everharts were rubbing his family's poverty in his face with every favor.

So this time, Kade Redwood, you can pay your own father's debts yourself.

That evening, back home, I sat on the edge of my bed in my old room — soft mattress, warm light, everything exactly as I remembered it — and felt something tighten in my throat.

Living through it all once already, I finally understood what mattered.

My parents were the ones I could never afford to fail again.

I was the one thing I could never give up on.

A knock at the door. My mother stepped in with a tray. "You barely touched anything at dinner, so I had the kitchen make your favorite."

Braised ribs, dark and glossy with sauce, next to a full bowl of rice.

My stomach growled loud enough to embarrass me. I hadn't eaten all day. I looked at the ribs and put a hand over my stomach without meaning to.

I wanted it so badly. I couldn't have it.

"Mom, I'm not hungry."

"Not hungry? You love meat more than anyone in this pack. You're still growing — you have to eat."

"Mom. I want to lose the weight."

Something in my voice must have carried more resolve than she expected, because she blinked, then simply nodded and picked the plate back up. "Too much weight isn't good for you either, then. I'll take these away."

I thought she was disappointed in me. Half an hour later, she came back with something else — steamed vegetables, a small plate of shrimp.

"Losing weight doesn't mean starving yourself," she said gently, setting it down. "I'll have Auntie put together a proper plan for you from now on."

She smoothed a hand over my hair, and my eyes stung before I could stop them.

My parents are here. That's such a good thing to have.

Living it all again, I finally understood what family actually was. Last time, I'd been so wrapped up in how I looked that I let this warmth pass right by me — and gone looking for it instead in someone who never once offered it back.

"Thank you, Mom."

I kept my head down until she left the room, then ate every bite in front of me.

Three months. I will not be this girl in three months.

By morning I was lightheaded and starving, but the scale showed five pounds gone. Mostly water weight, I knew that.

Every day after that, a different luxury car dropped me at the gates, and every day a fresh wave of envy followed me inside.

During the break between classes, some of my year-mates watched me running laps on the field and couldn't help themselves. "Is she serious? Fifteen minutes between classes and she's out there running like PE wasn't enough."

"She's actually lost some weight, though."

"So what if she's thinner? She's still not pretty, and Kade still won't look at her twice." One of the girls, Callie, elbowed Ivy. "Right, Ivy?"

Ivy took a beat too long to answer. When she noticed Callie waiting, she smiled her usual soft smile. "Don't say that. Maybe she's just training for a fitness test. It doesn't have to be about Kade."

"Ivy, you're too kind for your own good, defending someone like her. Everyone knows you knew Kade first. She's only gotten close to you to get closer to him."

Ivy forced the smile to hold.

The truth was, she'd sought me out on purpose the moment she realized I already knew Kade. But everyone at Lincoln Prep assumed — because of the name she wore — that she'd have known someone like him for years regardless, and Kade's easy warmth toward her only reinforced the story.

She never bothered correcting it.

I appeared in the classroom doorway right in the middle of the conversation, winded from the run, sweat soaking through my collar, climbing four flights of stairs at that weight wasn't easy yet.

Ivy stepped over and offered me a handkerchief, gentle as ever.

"Here, Freya. Wipe off."