Semua Bab The Curvy Heiress: Lost Werewolf Sister: Bab 21 - Bab 30

Waking up felt like wrestling my way out of wet cement.Heavy. Slow. Wrong.My eyelids peeled open one at a time, and for a second I couldn’t tell if the dim room was spinning… or if my brain was doing it solo because it hated me.Then the pound in my skull hit. Like someone had set a tiny, angry lumberjack loose behind my eyes.I groaned. Something tugged at my arm. I looked down. An IV line.Fantastic. Not only had I collapsed at a high society gala, I was now starring in my own medical drama.“My head is killing me,” I mumbled to the ceiling.The door clicked open. A nurse padded in, soft-soled shoes whispering over the rug. She had kind brown eyes and a bun so tight it could survive a tornado.“Oh. Good, you’re awake,” she said, voice warm and steady. “How do you feel?”“Like hot garbage,” I answered. “Left too long in the sun.”She gave a tiny smile. “That checks out. You were poisoned.”“Lightly poisoned,” I corrected weakly. “Like… diet poisoning.”“That’s not a thing.”“Well

The Vales might’ve been born with Alpha instincts and money that could pave half the country, but they’d forgotten one very crucial thing - wolves were meant to run free. And I was done being caged.It started with observation. Every guard had a rhythm. Every patrol had a blind spot. Every locked door had someone careless enough to leave a key too close.If a rogue wolf could slip in and attack me in my own backyard, then I sure as hell could sneak out of it.Day one, I played the obedient sister - meek, quiet, supposedly “recovering.” I even smiled sweetly at the guards stationed outside my room. By day three, they’d started relaxing, thinking I was harmless. By day five, I knew their schedules better than they did.Silas’s men were good. Disciplined, strong, and irritatingly smug, but they weren’t expecting me to use my brain instead of brute force.Step one: timing. The east wing cameras looped every thirty minutes for system checks. Damon himself bragged about it once during dinne

The two she-wolves strutted out of the bathroom like they’d personally won something, their laughter echoing behind them.“Freak,” one muttered loudly.“Should’ve stayed lost,” the other added, just in case I hadn’t heard the first insult clearly enough.They didn’t glance back. Cowards rarely do.I stood there for a solid five seconds, breathing like I’d just run a marathon while an imaginary therapist whispered, Clara, sweetie, don’t commit homicide in a public restroom. It’s frowned upon.My wolf paced under my skin, all snarls and wounded pride, but I forced myself to inhale. Slow, steady and let them go. I had bigger problems than two mean-girl hyenas in wolfskin.Besides, if I snapped now, I’d be proving their point. And I refused to be their villain just because they were bored.Once they were gone, I finally used the damn bathroom. Because despite all the drama, biology waits for no one, not even the disgraced heiress of a royal werewolf bloodline.I washed my hands, splashed

For a solid three seconds, I genuinely evaluated the physics of jumping out the window.I mean. I was only on the second floor. People survived worse falls. Movies existed. Adrenaline existed. My wolf existed. Maybe she’d kick in mid-air and I’d land like a majestic feral cat-A sharp knock rattled the door again.Nope. Zero chance. Even if I didn’t break both legs, they’d still catch me before I limped ten meters.I stared at the flimsy hotel window, then down at the anonymous, scratchy carpet, then at the door. I tried to imagine bursting through the tiny bathroom vent like some kind of angry raccoon. That wasn’t happening either.Another knock. Louder. More… Alpha.“Clara,” Kieran’s voice rumbled through the slab of cheap wood. “Open the door.”Yeah. Definitely not escaping.I let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a dying walrus, shoved a hand through my tangled hair, and reluctantly padded toward the door.I cracked it open two inches.Four massive, pissed-off wolves-in-hu

My face was still blotchy from crying - which, rude, because I’d splashed it with enough cold water to drown a small rodent. And yet my reflection in the hotel bathroom mirror still looked like the tragic before-picture in a skincare commercial.“Fantastic,” I muttered. “Maybe if I dissolve entirely, the tabloids will move on to bullying someone else.”My wolf hummed in the back of my mind, a low, steady vibration. Not words this time - just presence. Big, warm, unsettling presence.Great. Therapy in wolf form. Exactly what I needed.I took a breath, pushed the door open, and stepped back into the room… and froze.Because my body - traitorous, dramatic little shit that it was - did something weird.Heat rolled under my skin. Not “embarrassed heat,” not “I’m hungry heat,” but molten lava through my veins heat. My knees wobbled.“Oh no. No, no, no. Absolutely not. We are NOT doing this here,” I hissed at myself, pointing accusingly at the ceiling like the universe was up there smirking