9

LEAH’S POV 

Willow’s smile falters for a fraction of a second, confusion flickering in her eyes. "Leah? I only meant—"

"I know what you meant," I interrupt, stepping back and wiping a stray tear from my cheek with a trembling finger. I look directly at Bea, whose face has gone completely pale. "But every time you say that word... it must hurt Aunt Bea so much."

I lower my gaze again, letting out a shaky, painful breath that makes my chest heave.

"It reminds everyone of what my birth mother did to her," I whisper, my voice dripping with sorrow and quiet shame. "Clara tried to ruin Aunt Bea's life. She stole her child, and she tried to take her husband. Calling me your sister just forces Aunt Bea to look at me and remember the monster who destroyed her peace. I don't want to cause Aunt Bea any more pain than my bloodline already has."

Bea gasps, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth.

As a woman who prides herself on her soft, forgiving omega image, my words hit her right where it hurts. Bea does resent me—she resents me deeply—but she prefers to keep that resentment buried beneath a blanket of passive grace. 

Having her hidden bitterness exposed so gently and pitifully in front of her husband and son leaves her entirely defenseless. She cannot yell at me for defending her feelings. She cannot punish me for acknowledging her trauma.

She can’t do anything but try to defend herself from an accusation that isn’t even one. 

"Leah... no, that isn't..." Bea stammers, her voice shaking as she takes an awkward, uncertain step toward me. "I... I don't resent you, child..."

"It's alright, Aunt Bea," I say quickly, taking a step back so she can't reach out and touch me. I give her a soft, heartbreakingly warm smile, my tear-filled eyes shining in the dim hallway light. "You don't have to pretend. I understand everything now. You don't have to say anything to comfort me."

I look her straight in the eyes, my smile widening just a fraction, my tone turning impossibly gentle, almost eerie in its sweetness.

"Don't worry about anything anymore, Aunt Bea. Truly. You won't have to bear any of this weight much longer."

To anyone listening, it sounds like the selfless surrender of a pitiful, heartbroken girl who has finally accepted her low place in the world. It sounds like an apology from a child who just wants her aunt to be at peace, willing to erase herself so others can be happy.

But deep down, beneath the quiet tears and the soft smile, my heart is as cold as winter ice.

I will take everything off your hands, Bea.

You won't have to worry about your family, your reputation, or your status ever again, because I am going to tear all of it away from you. You, Augustine, Leonardo, and Willow... every single one of you will drown in bitter regret before I am finished with you.

Willow’s eyes narrow slightly. She senses the shift immediately. Her instincts are sharp when it comes to social power, and she knows she has just lost control of the moment. 

She opens her mouth, stepping forward to reassert control over the narrative before my tears can change the mood of the room.

"Leah, you shouldn't talk about yourself like that, we are a family now, and Mother has plenty of room in her heart—"

"Enough, Willow," Augustine cuts in, his deep Beta voice echoing sharply through the space.

He steps forward, placing a heavy hand on Bea’s shoulder to steady his trembling wife. He looks down at Bea's distressed face, then turns his gaze toward me.

He doesn't command me to call Bea 'mother'. He doesn't correct my tone. In fact, he doesn't even look me in the eye for more than a second. 

He merely glares down at me as if I am a piece of putrid trash that has ruined his family's mood before a grand dinner, a nuisance that he is forced to drag along.

"Do not disrupt the evening before we have even stepped out the door," Augustine growls, his tone laced with absolute disgust. He turns his back on me, wrapping his arm securely around Bea’s waist to usher her toward the main entryway. 

"Follow us to the car. We will not keep Alpha Lockwood waiting because of this nonsense."

Leonardo gives me one final, unreadable look—a mix of pity, mild discomfort, and something that looks like confusion?—before taking Willow by the elbow and leading her toward the door behind our parents.

"Come on, Willow," Leonardo says softly, his tone a stark contrast to the coldness he just showed me. "Let's not let this ruin your special night."

Willow slows her pace slightly, letting Leonardo walk ahead to open the front door. The cool night air rushes into the hall, carrying the faint scent of wet earth and pine. 

She turns her head back toward me, her sharp eyes scanning my face with the intense focus of a vulture inspecting a carcass, trying to figure out if I am truly broken or if something far more dangerous is happening beneath the surface.

"Are you sure you are alright, Leah?" Willow asks, her voice dropping so low that only I can hear her over the rustle of our family's heavy coats. "You seem... different tonight."

I look at her. I look at her smooth, unblemished skin, her expensive silk dress, her neatly styled hair, and the smug curiosity lingering in the depths of her eyes.

I pull my shoulders back. I wipe the remaining moisture from my cheeks with the back of my hand, letting the pitiful, sad expression melt away into a bright, dazzling, completely radiant smile.

A smile that doesn't reach my cold, green eyes.

"I am perfectly fine, Willow," I say, my voice steady, clear, and ringing with cool confidence.

I take a step forward, brushing past her toward the open doorway, my eyes fixed on the dark road leading toward the Alpha's estate.

"In fact... I have never felt better in my entire life."