My Alpha Family Loved Their Adopted Daughter More Than Me

The moment I accepted the offer, I felt strangely relieved.

No one in the moon courtyard noticed.

Mother was too busy directing two servants as they carried Rosalie’s barrel of moonwine from our family cellar. Its black oak had been polished until it gleamed, and fresh gold wax sealed the lid.

“Bring the crystal cups,” she called. “It’s time to celebrate!”

Callum took several pictures. His own barrel stood beside Rosalie’s, bearing the crest reserved for our family’s Alpha heir.

A moment later, his post appeared on social media.

My sister is going to the Royal Wolf Academy!

I saved my moonwine for a worthy occasion, and tonight, I’m opening it for her.

Father sat beneath the marble colonnade, watching with a rare smile.

As Alpha, he rarely attended private family celebrations. Apparently, Rosalie’s Academy acceptance was important enough to make an exception.

Julian stood beside Rosalie.

“Want a picture before they break the seal?” he asked.

Rosalie nodded, smiling sweetly. “Get my right side. It’s prettier.”

Mother pulled Father and Callum closer.

“Julian, take one of the four of us,” she said. “Our daughter was accepted into the Royal Wolf Academy. I want to remember this moment.”

Father and Mother stood on either side of Rosalie, while Callum rested a hand on her shoulder. They smiled as Julian took the picture.

A perfect family of four.

I stood near the courtyard doors, outside the frame.

Rosalie had earned a place in the Academy’s general program.

I had been admitted to the Council Scholars Program, an elite division that accepted only twelve students from all the northern packs.

No one had mentioned it.

Mother broke Rosalie’s wax seal. The rich scent of berries and winter spice drifted through the courtyard as she filled the crystal cups.

“Our Rosalie has made us proud,” she said. “This wine has waited seven years for tonight.”

Father lifted his glass.

“No one deserves it more than you, Rosalie.”

Callum took a drink and winced at its strength.

“The whole pack agrees. My post is already blowing up.”

Julian steadied Rosalie’s cup when it tilted in her hand.

“Easy,” he said with a smile. “Don’t drink too much.”

Rosalie hugged the cup closer.

“But this wine holds seven years of Mom and Dad’s love,” Rosalie said. “I’m not wasting a single drop.”

She swallowed too much at once and began coughing, her cheeks turning red.

“I guess Mom and Dad put too much love in it,” she managed between coughs.

Everyone burst out laughing.

I looked at the two barrels before them. The space in front of me was empty.

Eighteen years ago, Grandmother had laid down my moonwine herself. While she was alive, she visited the cellar with me every autumn to inspect the barrel and renew its protective blessing.

She used to rest her hand on its polished oak and tell me, “You can always tell how deeply a child is loved by how carefully their moonwine is kept.”

Grandmother was gone now. So was my wine.

Yet when Rosalie arrived, Mother had commissioned a new barrel for her without hesitation.

Seven years ago, Rosalie’s father had lost his wolf saving Father during a rogue attack. Father believed a failure in his own defenses had caused the attack, so he promised that our family would provide for Rosalie from then on.

The day Mother brought her to our estate, she held Rosalie in her arms and made her a promise.

“This is your home now. No one here will ever make you feel unwanted.”

It took me years to understand what she meant.

To keep Rosalie from ever feeling unwanted, it didn’t matter how unwanted I became.

My phone vibrated. A new message appeared.

Aria Ashwood, your place at the Moonridge Isolation Study has been secured.

Report to the northern research territory in five days.

Program term: seven years. No outside contact.

Another wave of laughter rose from the courtyard.

No one looked my way.

I turned off my phone.

Five days.

That was how long I had left in this family.