3

LEAH’S POV

I look up at Luna Mary, keeping my face smooth and unbothered.

"I’ll eat in the kitchen, then," I say softly, my voice cutting cleanly through the heavy silence of the dining hall.

A collective gasp ripples through the table. Augustine slams his silver fork down against his porcelain plate, his knuckles turning white as he glares across the long room at me.

In their eyes, my easy acceptance looks like a childish tantrum. They fully expect me to cry, to stomp my feet, or to beg on my knees for a small place at their table.

"Look at her," Asher sneers, shaking his head with deep disgust as he leans back in his velvet chair. "Still playing the dramatic victim. She can’t even accept a dinner invitation without throwing a fit."

"She’s just trying to make us all look cruel," Augustine grunts, his heavy voice dripping with annoyance. "Let her starve in the back with the house staff if that’s what she wants."

Right on cue, Willow steps into her favorite role as the angelic saint. She gasps softly, placing a delicate, pale hand over her heart, looking up at Luna Mary with wide, tear-filled blue eyes.

"Oh, please, Luna Mary!" Willow begs softly, her voice trembling with sweet concern. "Don’t let her go to the kitchen! Leah is just hurt and confused right now. It breaks my soft heart to see her isolate herself like this. Please, let me go bring her back. I want us to be a real, happy family!"

I don’t give her the satisfaction of a loud scene. I don’t fight back, nor do I shed a single tear.

"Thank you for your concern, Willow," I say, my voice quiet as I slowly turn on my heel. "But I think it would be better if I just left."

I leave the grand dining hall behind, walking down the cool stone corridor toward the back staff kitchen. They think I’m retreating in shame or anger. They think Willow won another easy victory in this little power play.

They have no idea that every single step I take is part of my design. I wanted to be in the kitchen. I needed to be far away from their noisy table so I could think clearly and set things up.

The kitchen is massive, empty, and very quiet. High copper pots hang from the tall ceiling, and the long wooden counters are piled high with leftover warm bread, cuts of steak, and bowls of fresh fruits.

The house servants have all stepped out to serve the main hall, leaving me alone in the dim room.

I sit down on a low wooden stool near the back preparation table, pulling a small wooden plate toward me. I do not touch the food. I just sit in the dim light, staring down at my unburned hands.

My fingers tremble slightly—not from any fear, but from the raw, cold rage burning deep in my chest.

‘They looked at me and did not see Leah’, I whisper to the quiet walls of the kitchen, testing the raspy sound of my own voice. ‘They did not see the girl who spent eighteen long years doing everything to bring honor to the Rosante name. They only saw Clara.’

Every single cold glare, every spat insult, and every heavy wooden door slammed in my face over the past year was framed as justice for Clara's sins.

I run my thumb over the rough edge of the wooden table.

And the irony? Clara died by her own hands. She took the easy, coward's way out with a concoction of poison and a diary she probably never meant for anyone to read.

Clara gets to rest in the cold earth, completely untouched by the terrible mess she left behind her. Meanwhile, I was left behind to drown in the rot of her choices.

I was forced to pay the ultimate price for a crime I did not commit, all under the angry, watchful eyes of a pack that already called me guilty by birth.

Overnight, I went from the quiet girl who brewed herbal tea for sick pups to the villainess's cursed child.

In my first life, I spent twelve miserable months weeping in my drafty attic room. I spent every single day begging Augustine for a tiny drop of fatherly love. I tried so hard to prove I was good, gentle, and useful to the pack.

And what did it get me?

It got me locked inside a burning wooden barn while the entire academy danced around as I burned to ash.

A dark, cold smile slowly curves the corners of my lips in the shadow.

‘Not this time’, I think, my dark green eyes narrowing in the dim light. ‘If they’ve made me out to be a villainess, then I will play the part properly.’

Before I leave for Eclipse Academy I’ll leave them a little parting gift. I don’t need strength or loud arguments to tear their happy world apart. I’ll start small.

I’ll start by fracturing the sweet, fragile bond between Willow and Luna Mary—a little taste of what is to come before I even step onto that academy campus.

From down the hallway, the loud sound of cheerful laughter bursts through the heavy wooden doors. I hear Asher’s loud, booming voice praising Willow, followed by Luna Mary’s high laughter.

They’re celebrating Willow’s admission to Eclipse Academy, talking as if she is a divine gift from the Moon Goddess herself.

They’re happy. They feel completely safe. They think I’m sitting here cowering in the dark, eating leftover scraps like a beaten dog.

Footsteps echo down the stone hallway. High heels click sharply against the hard floorboards.

Luna Mary is coming toward the kitchen, stepping away from the noise of the dining hall to check on the sweet dessert trays.

I stand up slowly from the wooden stool. I smooth down the simple skirt of my green dress, fold my pale hands neatly in front of my waist, and drop my gaze to the floor—acting every bit the timid, disgraced omega they expect to see.

The heavy wooden kitchen door swings open with a soft creak. Luna Mary steps into the room, holding her rich silk skirt high above the dusty floor, her cold eyes instantly locking onto me with pure contempt.

"Still standing here like a pathetic ghost, Leah?" she sneers, walking slowly toward the center island. "You really are a continuous disappointment to this family."

I look up at her, my posture modest and my face a soft mask of total innocence, though a dark, razor-sharp smile plays at the corners of my lips.