3

I couldn't quite read my brother's expression. He seemed displeased.

I grew increasingly uncomfortable. I was doing exactly as he wished—being patient and accommodating at every turn. Why was he still dissatisfied?

The most excruciating moment was having dinner with them.

The table was laden with a feast of delicious foods.

My brother carefully placed choice morsels on Selene's plate, making her beam with delight.

Meanwhile, I sat quietly with lowered eyes, gnawing on a cold, hard piece of bread.

"Why aren't you eating any meat, Skye?" Selene asked, pushing a plate of lamb toward me.

I didn't touch it, silently pushing it aside.

"Does Skye have some problem with me? She won't even eat the food I specially prepared for her." Selene's face crumpled with feigned hurt, and my brother's expression instantly hardened.

"Skye! Eat the food Selene prepared and stop this attitude right now!" he snapped.

I raised my head, my chest tight with an indescribable pain.

"I can't eat this," I said quietly.

Years of being force-fed silver-laced potions at the rehabilitation center had left my digestive system extremely fragile. Many foods were now off-limits to me.

Before, our family table never included things I couldn't eat. Now, almost nothing served was safe for me.

My brother—he didn't seem to care anymore.

"What do you mean you 'can't eat it'? Selene prepared it especially for you. Don't be ungrateful. Eat the meat." His voice had that dangerous edge I knew too well.

"It's my fault," Selene interjected with a theatrical sigh. "I made all my favorite dishes today. It's natural for Skye to be upset on her first day back. Skye, what would you like? I can prepare something else."

Her eyes gleamed with triumph and challenge.

But these tactics couldn't anger me anymore.

"She's a grown wolf now, not some delicate pup. If you can eat it, so can she," my brother growled. "Skye, stop making everyone uncomfortable. Be sensible for once."

His face darkened, brows furrowed tightly—the warning sign of his temper flaring.

Again, just like before—no chance to explain. In his mind, it was always my fault.

But the rehabilitation center had drilled into me that everything I had came from my brother. I must obey his commands or be labeled a delinquent deserving punishment.

Don't make brother angry, or everything becomes my fault.

"Fine. I'll eat it," I mumbled, lowering my head and shoving large bites into my mouth, desperate to defuse the tension.

Seeing me eat, his expression finally softened.

Fighting overwhelming nausea, I ate whatever Selene gave me.

But soon my stomach began to churn violently. My skin started itching uncontrollably, and I began to vomit. Even after everything I'd forced down came back up, I continued dry heaving painfully.

"Oh my!" Selene exclaimed with disgust, retreating into my brother's embrace. His first instinct was to hold her protectively, backing away from me as if I were garbage.

Only when I collapsed to the floor, unable to move, did he seem to realize something was seriously wrong.

"What's happening to you?" he asked, finally alarmed as he watched me slip into unconsciousness.