Chapter 3

"From today on, you're not leaving this room until Victoria comes back."

After the healer's, they locked me up.

They were terrified that something might happen to their precious vessel—that their prized daughter might never make it home.

At mealtimes, they'd bring me plates full of Victoria's favorite foods.

The smell made me gag. I refused to eat.

My father pinned me down. Liam pried my mouth open and shoved it all in.

My stomach churned. I threw up even as they kept stuffing me full.

And they just stood there, smiling, saying:

"You have to take good care of this body for Victoria. So she can come back safe."

I forced the words out, barely.

"I'm... Margaret. This is... my own body..."

My mother's face twisted with anger. "Victoria's still out there suffering, and all you think about is yourself?! How did I raise such a selfish daughter?"

Tears rolled down my cheeks. I stopped fighting.

Day after day in that room, I just sat there, numb, feeling my wolf fade piece by piece.

Then one afternoon, I heard barking.

I shot up from the bed and ran to the window.

Down in the yard stood a few stray dogs—dirty, scruffy, bones sticking out. They saw me and wagged their tails, happy.

They were the strays I'd been secretly feeding.

I knew my parents wanted me to be strong, like Victoria. An alpha.

But what I really loved was healing.

Every time I caught myself studying healing arts, I'd snap back to reality and feel guilty—like I'd failed them.

I'd slap myself for getting lost in the witch's lessons. Stop it. You can't want this.

Then I found them.

These strays got kicked around by the pack all the time. The first time I saw them, they were covered in wounds.

That was the first time I used healing magic. Watching them slowly get better under my hands—it filled me with a peace I'd never known.

Liam was there. He said, "Congrats. You finally found yourself."

After that, I went every day. Fed them. Healed them.

I never had the guts to tell my parents I wanted to be a Healer. So they became my only outlet. My only reason.

They were proof that I existed.

When they locked me up and I stopped showing up, those little guys must've gotten worried. They tracked me down all the way here.

For a moment, my frozen heart started to thaw.

Then the door downstairs swung open.

Liam strode out. My father followed.

My stomach dropped.

My father glanced up at me, eyes cold. "Those mutts are making too much noise. It'll disturb Victoria's wolf during the return." He jerked his chin at Liam. "Get rid of them."

"Dad—no!" I slammed my fists against the locked window, screaming.

"They just came to check on me! Just chase them off, please, I'm begging you—"

It didn't matter.

They closed in on the dogs.

"Run! Are you stupid?! Go!" I pounded the glass, trying to scare them off.

But they could see I was trapped. They started scratching at the wall, trying to get up to me. They wouldn't leave on their own.

Then I saw Liam grab one by the neck and squeeze.

"Liam—we fed that one together!" I screamed, desperate.

When he didn't let go, I grabbed a pillow and hurled it at him through the window. Then I shrieked at the dogs at the top of my lungs:

"Go! Get out of here!"

They seemed to understand. They looked back at me, hesitated, then finally turned and ran.

I collapsed in front of the window, forehead against the cold glass, shaking all over.

The tears came without sound.

I almost got them hurt because of me.

That was the moment I finally understood—this house was never meant for Margaret.

Outside, the sky went pitch black.

I don't know how long I'd been curled up on the floor when I heard my parents' voices in the hallway.

"Call the witch. Have her do the swap tonight. Margaret keeps messing with her body and I'm scared—what if Victoria doesn't make it back?!" My mother was beating her fists against my father's chest, frantic.

"But Margaret's condition..." My father hesitated.

"She'll be fine. She's always been... used to it... right?"

My mother's voice wavered. For a second, guilt flickered across her face—all the things she'd done to me over the years crashing back.

But Victoria was still out there.

She shook her head, steeling herself. "Those rogues are keeping Victoria alive—they must be torturing her. To get back at us!"

"Our daughter is still suffering! Jack, what are you waiting for?! Every second you hesitate, that's another wound on Victoria!"

Liam chimed in, "She's right, Alpha. Once Victoria's back, we'll know where Margaret is. We can rescue her in time. Victoria's survived all these years—Margaret can handle a little while too."

Their words cut through me like blades.

I laughed bitterly. They were terrified Victoria might get hurt. What about me?

Even if I somehow survived, dumped out beyond the border with rogues everywhere—how was I supposed to fight them off?

But my father heard Victoria might be in pain, and that was it. No hesitation. He sent word to the witch. Do the swap. Now.

They strapped me to the bed. The witch stood over me, her expression troubled.

"The potion hasn't fully taken effect yet. If we do this now, Margaret could be in real danger..."

My father frowned. Then, final:

"As long as Victoria comes back, everything else can be fixed. Margaret can take it. Do it."

"Margaret—don't fight it."

The witch didn't dare defy the Alpha. She raised her wand slowly.

Their faces were alight with hope. Their voices thick with joy.

"Finally—Victoria's coming home!"

I closed my eyes.

Tears slipped down my cheeks.

Soon—I would vanish from this family for good.