Their Precious Girl, Their Disposable Daughter

The wine hit my eyes before I saw Adrian’s hand move.

I recoiled. One heel caught in my skirt, and the edge of the cake stand struck my temple as I fell. Porcelain shattered beneath me. Ten tiers of white icing and sugared flowers slid down my dress.

For a moment, all I could hear was a thin, high ringing.

I looked for Caleb.

It was an old habit. Whenever something hurt, I used to look for him first.

He took half a step toward me.

Then Adrian said, “Look at her. Still trying to make us feel sorry for her.”

Caleb stopped.

“Celeste could have died tonight, Evie.” His voice was flat. “Was calling me really necessary? Or did you just need another way to hurt her?”

Something warm ran down the side of my face. I touched it, then stared at the red on my fingers.

Deep inside me, I reached for my wolf.

Nothing answered.

My father had sealed her away three days ago, using the authority of an Alpha over his own pack. Until I confessed to what I had done to Celeste, he had said, I would have no right to the strength of a wolf.

I had tried to tell him I hadn’t done anything.

He had tightened the seal.

“Adrian.” My voice sounded oddly distant. “I’m bleeding.”

His gaze dropped to my hand. For an instant, his jaw loosened. I recognized that expression from years ago, when he had found me crying outside the servants’ entrance.

Then his phone lit up.

Celeste’s name filled the screen.

“She begged me to come,” he said. “Even after what you did, she was afraid you’d be humiliated. She said she couldn’t live with herself if she ruined your wedding.”

I lowered my hand.

There had already been an investigation. That was what everyone called it.

A vial of wolfsbane had been found in my room. Messages sent from my phone said Celeste should have died before taking anything else from me. Caleb had found her locked inside the infirmary, gasping beside a spilled cup of medicine.

I had been in the kitchens, collecting the broth she had asked for.

By the time I returned, she was in Adrian’s arms.

“She said I’d stolen enough,” Celeste had whispered. “Please don’t make me go near her.”

I had offered them my phone. Asked them to speak to the kitchen staff. Told them Celeste had borrowed my room that morning because she wanted somewhere quiet to rest.

Adrian had called it an excuse.

Caleb had called it a lie.

My father had ordered me to stop upsetting my sister.

Now Adrian pulled a glass from the bottom of the champagne tower. The whole thing collapsed with a crash that made the guests flinch.

No one stepped forward.

He picked up a bottle, held the glass above my head, and poured. Wine overflowed the rim, running through my hair and down the open back of my gown.

I stayed still.

Moving had made the ringing worse.

“You wanted your wedding toast.” He emptied the last of the bottle over me. “Here it is.”

He crouched in front of me with the full glass.

I thought, stupidly, that he might help me stand.

Instead, he flung the wine into my face.

It stung the cut at my temple. Drops fell from my chin onto the white satin, some red, some almost clear.

“There. Happy now, Mrs. Blackwood?”

We had signed the civil papers that morning. Tonight’s ceremony was meant to make me his Luna before both packs. Afterward, he would give me his mating mark.

The skin at my throat was still bare.

Caleb watched from a few feet away. His hands stayed buried in his pockets, but I could see his knuckles pressing against the fabric.

“Enough, Adrian,” he said quietly.

For one breath, I thought he meant it.

Then he looked at me.

“Apologize to Celeste, Evie. You know this stops when you apologize.”

I caught the torn edge of my skirt between my fingers.

I had spent the last three days trying to find the right words. The words that would make them listen. There didn’t seem to be any left.

My parents pushed through the guests.

I straightened as much as I could. Blood slipped beneath my collar, warm against my cold skin.

My mother didn’t look down.

“Where’s Celeste? You know how fragile she is. How could you both leave her?” Her voice broke. “Tell me where my little girl is.”

My father took the microphone from the stunned officiant.

“Our apologies. There’s been a family emergency. The ceremony is postponed. All wedding gifts will be returned. Thank you for your understanding.”

His voice was steady until he put the microphone down.

“Take us to her,” he told Adrian.

I had heard him address a council of hostile Alphas without a tremor. Now his hands were shaking.

“Dad,” I said.

He glanced at me at last.

His eyes caught on the blood at my temple. His hand moved toward his jacket, where he kept a handkerchief.

Then he saw the wine and wreckage around me, and his mouth hardened.

“Not now, Evelyn.”

His hand fell to his side.

From the doorway came a small, broken cry.

“Mom? Dad?”