CHAPTER TWO

Jean

The gates creaked open with anticipation. I already knew who was coming. 

Abigail .

My sister.

She walked into Bloodfang Pack like she was the queen of the kingdom, cloak sparkling like she just spilled red blood on the floor, hair sleek as midnight. She’s slender now, cheeks fuller, but her smile? Sharper than a wolf’s tooth. Everybodystopped to stare at her. That's the kind of attention she called with her beauty. 

“Jean!” she called out, voice as sweet as sugar. I knew her better than that. Like we’re old friends meeting at a party, not sisters with a history that goes way back.

I forced myself to smile. “Abigail .”

She grabbed me, hugged too tight, perfume almost suffocating, her nails digging in just long enough to say, “I’m still in charge.” It’s all theater. Always has been.

“I got here as soon as I heard,” she said, eyes wide, all concerned and sympathetic. “You’ve been through so much. I couldn’t let you suffer alone.”

Her words sounded caring, but her eyes said something different.

Behind me, Agora stomped down the steps, his presence heavy in the air. Abigail ’s gaze flipped to him and before I knew it, she became a different person. Smile turns sly, chin dips, lashes flutter. Already angling.

“Alpha Agora ,” she purred, bowing, trying to look graceful still. “It’s an honor.”

He gave her one of those tiny, dangerous smiles. “You are welcome here, Abigail . Bloodfang values family.”

Family. 

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you want,” he said, and Abigail giggled like a schoolgirl. That made me squint my eyes.

    As the days passed, Abigail placed herself next to Agora , and not me, her sister. She didn't pretend to want to catch up with me. She laughed at everything he said, brushed his arm every chance she got. The court is eating it up. The whispers swirl her beauty, her charm, her warmth. 

Me? I’m the ghost at the table who no one cared to pay attention to.

I poked at my food, my appetite gone.

Every time I glanced up, Abigail ’s already watching, that smug little smile saying, “Told you so.”

But, her smile meant nothing.

The truth was worse.

Because once, she warned me.

    I remembered when I told her about what Agora offered me.

We were sitting by the river, arms linked, and ankles swirling. Abigail grabbed my hands, tears threatening to fall from her lashes. 

“Don’t marry him,” she whispered. “Agora Vale will eat you alive. He’s a fire, Jean. He doesn’t love. He is not a man capable of love. He would consume you. He’ll hollow you out.”

I shook my head. Too desperate, too tired to listen. “He’s offering me a place, Abigail a pack. A name.”

Her grip turned to iron. “Then I’ll fight for you. Please. Don’t do this.”

But I didn’t listen. Thought she was being dramatic. Maybe she was jealous. Maybe she just wanted me to stay exiled and alone.

Now, watching her with my husband, I get it. Her warning? It wasn’t for me.

It was for herself.

      Days passed quickly, and Abigail was the new favorite in the castle. The Warriors answered to her beck and call. Maids adored her. Even the crusty old elders are charmed. She slipped into the pack like water, easy, unstoppable.

And Agora … he watched her differently. Hangs on her every word. Smiles at her in a way I’ve never seen. Once, I caught him laughing at something she said. Real laughter. He had never laughed with me. It felt like I was living with a stranger.

It hurts. Not because I wanted his laughter, but because now I know he’s been saving it for her. Proof that something in me is empty, not just my womb.

The whispers get sharper.

“Maybe the younger sister’s blood is better.”

“She’s brighter, isn’t she?”

“Imagine Abigail as Luna…”

Every word, another slice.

     One night, I passed the great hall and saw them together. Abigail perched on the steps, Agora bent over her hand, studying her ring. Too close. She laughed, and he leaned in, all smiles.

They didn’t even notice me.

For a second, I froze, my heart pounding. My wolf wanted to tear her apart. Challenge her. Let the pack see my rage.

But I swallowed it down. I can’t show weakness. Not when everyone was waiting for me to fall apart.

So I slipped away, silent as a secret.

By day four, I was a wreck. I was getting close to my limits, my skin was buzzing, I couldn't eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t do anything except pace and stew. It was like something inside me had been set on fire. No relief. Not a moment.

That night? I let my rage win. I let my anger get me. 

The moon shone brightly outside, and that was when I caught it. The floorboards are squeaking out in the hall. My room was dead quiet but my heart raced. I slide outta bed, bare feet cold against the floor, and tiptoed to the door. Crack it open, just enough to peek.

There she is. Moving like a ghost down the hall. 

Abigail .

She was wearing her night robe, her hair down as it dangled freely on her shoulder, and everywhere, walking with this weird determination. She looked back right at my door. At me, probably. 

I froze.

Then she was gone, slipping into Agora ’s room like it was something she always did. Out of habit.

The door closed behind her.

My throat went dry. My chest heaved, and it felt like my insides were being clawed apart. There’s this wild animal that aches something primal and devastated.

And, well, that’s it, isn’t it? No rumors, no guessing games, no little doubts nibbling at me. Just the truth, ugly and sharp as broken glass.

Betrayal.