Chapter 3

Years ago, my adoptive mother gave me strict orders.

I had to copy Stella's clothes, makeup, and mannerisms.

Since we weren't blood-related, I could only rely on dressing up to look like her.

"Freya, it's the only way Caleb will give you a second glance. It's the only way you'll survive in the Hurricane Pack."

I did as she asked.

On their anniversary, I wore makeup that made me look like Stella and knocked on his study door.

That night, the way he looked at me completely changed.

That was also the first time we slept together.

He recklessly left his marks all over me, constantly murmuring "Stella's" name.

As for the single tear that slipped down my cheek, nobody cared.

From that day on, Caleb did treat me a little better—or at least, he stopped completely ignoring me.

And every year on their anniversary, he was especially gentle with me.

But stolen warmth never truly belongs to you.

My thoughts were interrupted by a tap-tap on the window.

Jax was on his hoverboard, proudly waving a toy gun.

"If you dare stick around and don't get lost, the next thing hitting your forehead will be a real bullet!"

He was so proud of his precise little prank.

Completely forgetting that I was the one who taught him how to ride that hoverboard.

Back then, my adoptive mother handed a baby Jax over to me.

She pleaded, "The pup is so small. If you treat him with your whole heart, when he grows up, he'll see you as his real mother and take care of you."

"No matter what, you'll be a family."

She had such high hopes for me.

And surrounded by this fake luxury, I actually started to believe those foolish dreams.

But eight years had passed.

The father treated me like I was invisible.

And the son... hated my guts.

"Be careful when you play," I warned him one last time, then shut the window.

The next morning, I started packing.

My adoptive mother rushed over and blocked the door.

The moment she walked in, she started lecturing me, using her "kindness" of raising me and our family's failing business to guilt-trip me.

I listened in silence, only asking one question: "You've said all this, but why haven't you once asked if I was suffocating these past eight years?"

She froze.

The roar of a sports car engine outside interrupted her speech.

An Omega wolf reeking of sweet rose perfume walked in, clicking her heels and smiling.

As soon as she walked in, Jax threw himself into her arms.

"Aunt Chloe, I missed you so much!"

Hand in hand, they walked right past me.

The estate staff started whispering.

"Miss Freya is so pathetic. She tried everything to please the Alpha and Jax, and in the end, she still lost to a new Omega. I heard she's just a barmaid."

"Yesterday she was threatening to leave, and today she's still hanging around. She's probably scared Miss Chloe is taking her spot. We'll have a new Luna soon."

Jax rubbed his little face against Chloe's chest.

"Dad's been waiting for you. Let's go find him."

"I like Aunt Chloe the best. She smells so good, not dirty like some people."

I stood there, stunned.

I remembered when Jax was three. He was so playful.

Once, he climbed a rockery and slipped.

I dove to catch him, ending up covered in dirt with a broken arm.

But back then, he buried his face in my chest and said in a babyish voice, "I like Freya. She smells like mom."

I never could have imagined it back then.

The little shadow who used to follow me everywhere now spoke words like sharp thorns, piercing right through my heart.

Chloe gave me a gentle but fake smile.

This perfectly dressed Omega oozed charm with every move.

But her words were dripping with provocation.

"Miss Freya, kids just say whatever comes to mind. Don't be mad."