Two

ZETIAN’S POV

I never truly understood the taste of betrayal — the way it burns in your throat, the way it poisons your veins — until the morning of my wedding.

At exactly 5:55 a.m., I died.

Not just in the poetic sense. Not figuratively. I died in the most literal, cruel way possible — murdered out of jealousy by my Adopted sister.

Cindy.

Looking back now, the signs were always there. I just refused to see them.

Frank — or Bunny, as I fondly called him — had grown distant in the weeks before our wedding. His smile no longer reached his eyes. His hugs lingered just a little too long before letting go, as if guilt whispered between our bodies.

Cindy’s envy had always been quiet, simmering beneath the surface. It began when I was found — the lost Andersons daughter returned after years of being swapped. Cindy had been their light, their pride, the adopted replacement for the child they’d lost. And when I returned, I became the shadow that dimmed her glow.

Then Frank came into the picture — my mate. My destiny.

The moment that bond snapped into place, Cindy’s jealousy turned venomous. The little digs, the forced smiles, the glances that lingered a second too long on Frank — I noticed them all. I just chose love over logic.

Stupid.

Naïve.

Me.

By sunrise, the mansion was alive with excitement. Decorators bustled around with flowers and drapes. The scent of fresh lilies filled the hallways. My designer gown was laid out carefully on the bed, shimmering beneath the morning light. Everything was perfect– Every detail, every flower, every smile.

Until it wasn’t.

The first scream tore through the mansion like a blade.

“Zetian! My baby! Wake up! Please—Mother is here!” Mother screamed.

Her voice cracked, raw, breaking the air with anguish. She was on the floor beside me, shaking my lifeless body, her trembling hands smudged with the blood that pooled beneath my head. Her tears fell freely, soaking through the satin of her robe.

But I couldn’t move.

Couldn’t speak.

Couldn’t tell her I was gone.

The room filled quickly — pack members, relatives, wedding planners — their gasps and whispers blending into chaos.

“Is she—?”

“No… Goddess, no.”

“Call the doctor! Hurry!”

But it was too late.

Someone fainted. Another vomited into the hallway.

And then came the clicks — the flash of cameras.

Within an hour, every news outlet had the story.

“Breaking News: The woman the Andersons sheltered out of pity found dead on her wedding day.”

Not Zetian Anderson.

Not the Alpha’s lost daughter.

Just “a woman.”

I shouldn’t have been surprised. My father had always been careful about appearances — always in control of what the world saw. Of course, he’d feed the paparazzi with these lies. The truth was far too inconvenient.

When Frank arrived, he was still in his pajamas, hair tousled, face pale. He pushed through the crowd, calling my name like a man possessed.

“Zetian ! No, no, please—wake up! Don’t do this to me! It’s our wedding day, remember? Our baby, Zetian! You can’t leave us now!” Frank cried.

His knees hit the floor beside me, his hands clutching mine — the same hands that once held me through sleepless nights, now gripping cold flesh. Tears streaked his face, but his eyes were dry.

Cindy was behind him, trembling with a performance worthy of applause. Her sobs were soft but deliberate, the perfect blend of heartbreak and innocence. She pressed a handkerchief to her lips and whispered,

“She was my sister… she didn’t deserve this.”

Lies. All of it.

They had been lovers long before I came into the picture as his mate. I’d always wondered why Cindy never introduced me to the man she claimed to love. Now I knew why–Frank was her lover.

I was just an obstacle to her being the Anderson’s heiress. And to think that she had confessed to be the one behind the acid damage on my face, before she murdered me.

The worst of it all was that I had a child growing inside me. A life snuffed out with mine.

Frank could have just rejected me as his mate. But no, he didn’t want to be seen as a bad fellow in the eyes of people.

“Ohh he finally left her because she’s now ugly, huh.”

He wanted to keep his good name intact, so he made it seem like he loved me till death. And yes, his family was against rejecting of mates.

By the time the officers arrived, mother had fainted and been carried out.

On seeing them, Cindy threw herself at them, sobbing, shaking, dramatically pleading like a grieving friend seeking justice.

“Please! Please find whoever did this! She was murdered! My sister was killed in cold blood! You have to help her!”

Frank sat motionless beside me, lips quivering, eyes wide in supposed shock.

The officers scanned the room, taking notes.

“No forced entry. No struggle. Everything looks... deliberate,” one murmured.

Frank seized the moment. He slammed his fist into the wall.

“Then your effort is not enough!!!. Do something! She was murdered! In her own room! Find the monster who did this!”

The lead officer frowned sympathetically but Maintained his composure.

“We’ll start questioning everyone. No one leaves until we find answers.”

Frank nodded, voice low and broken.

“Please… find whoever did this. She deserves justice.”

He even managed a tear. Almost convincing.

When the room cleared, Cindy stood over my body, silent. Then, like a witch stepping out of costume, she exhaled, rolled her shoulders, and smirked.

“Zetian , my darling,” she murmured, brushing my hair back. “What a shame it had to end this way. But really… you were never meant to be here. Frank only accepted you because you were his mate —the heiress, the name, the power. But look at you now.”

She stood, brushing imaginary dust off her sleeves as her gaze lingered on my scars.

“Even in death, you’re hideous.”

She sighed adjusting her hair.

“I’ll make sure your burial is… grand. A spectacle. The world will mourn the poor, pitiful girl who died too soon. And me? I’ll move on with Frank, as everyone expects. Goodbye, sis.”

She kissed my hand — a mockery of affection — and walked out, leaving behind nothing but silence and the faint scent of her cologne.

My burial came quickly — too quickly.

Within twenty-four hours, I was gone. No autopsy. No investigation. No justice.

The Andersons had found out that the woman they paraded as their perfect child had a hand in my murder, but in other to protect their precious daughter and image, they announced my death as “a tragic suicide” and moved heaven and earth to keep it that way.

Even Frank helped hide her scandal.

Hence, they buried me quietly.

No public announcement.

No acknowledgment that I had ever been one of them.

Just a sealed coffin, a whisper of scandal, and silence.

To the world, Zetian Anderson never existed.

—----------------

Days later, Frank appeared before the pack’s elders, dressed in black, grief painted on his face. His voice trembled as he addressed them, every word rehearsed.

“Zetian’s death has left a void in my heart,” he said, lowering his head. “But life must go on. I can’t be commemorated as an Alpha without my Luna, and my pack is on the verge of destruction. So in honour of Zetian’s memory, I choose to continue with someone who stood by me through it all, someone she would have wanted me to carry on with… Cindy Anderson— my chosen mate.”