Chapter 4

A little knife was shoved into my hand when she bumped into me.

Mom shuddered out of uncontrollable anger, slapping my face one after another. She stared at me after she slapped me 5 to 6 times, yelling: "Why do you treat your sister like this? Why are you so jealous of her?" Mom was never as angry as that time, because I was the daughter she had been looking forward to coming back for years.

I was not expecting that to come, so I was stunned sitting there and not knowing how to react.

I wiped off the blood trickling from my nostril, stood up, and tried to explain. Father kicked me down at that moment. Then Zayn dragged me and commanded me to kneel to apologize.

My wolf roared, with my canine teeth exposed. I tried hard not to cry.

"Why don't you even give me a chance to explain? Why don't you trust me, not even once?"

I clenched my teeth so hard that I started to shiver, tears rolling down my cheeks like raindrops.

Since 6 years old, I had already been used to suffering from injustice, but I was never as desperate as this time.

Mom looked at me angrily, "Trust you with what? Laurel was injured this severely by you. What do you want us to trust?" she continued, "I have a clear sense as to how Laurel is. While you have been bullying Laurel since you came back. Do you think we are all fools?"

"To be honest, taking you back is the thing that I regret the most in my life."

"If I had known, I would rather leave you outside and die."

Her words were like a bucket of icy water poured over me, so cold that I could feel nothing but numbness.

In the Werewolf Charity Agency, I was treated like a servant. When I was beaten, punished, or cursed, I wished Mom, Dad, or brother could be with me. I hoped to be protected by them.

But when they were with me, they wanted nothing but my death.

At that moment, the thought of leaving them behind appeared in my mind. But they would not let me leave. They claimed that they were afraid that I would take revenge on Laurel, so they locked me in the cellar.

I was trapped in the cellar for three days without having any food or water. I thought they had pardoned me. It never occurred to me that the first thing they did to me was to hang me on the cliff. For the reason that Laurel had a nightmare of me beating her.

It was I who was bullied for real…

Before the age of 6, I was treasured as the apple of their eyes by my parents, and Zayn, too, cherished me as his little sister.

But one time in a werewolf assembly, I was taken away from my pack by werewolf traffickers. I was transferred from one pack to another, lingering in misery. At the age of 13, the Werewolf Council found out about those traffickers, and I came back to my pack.

I thought years of separation would make the bond among pack members stronger, but I was so wrong. When I entered, my parents looked at me from my head to my toes, showing a sense of dislike without any disguise.

They chatted as if I were not there. "Is this our Petra? Why is she not anything similar to us?" Zayn covered his nose, "What is the smell? So stink and disgusting… Why not shower before coming?" Only one wolf welcomed me ------ Laurel, the daughter adopted to take my place.

Laurel dashed to the door to hold my hand when I was standing there listening to their conversations.

"So you are Petra? I'm Laurel." She smiled so innocently.