Werewolf

”;Please don’t do this to our children!”;

 I screamed, crawling over shards of their shattered portraits.

 ”;I’ll take any punishment—just stop destroying their memory!”;

 Caspian ignored me, sweeping Cilian into his arms as her fake whimpers turned to exaggerated moans.

 ”;Save your histrionics,”; he snapped, pausing at the door.

 ”;I’ll forgive this… performance. Tomorrow’s auction will make it right. I’ll buy the pups a priceless relic. Happy?”;

 His Bentley roared to life, leaving me kneeling in the wreckage.

 At the auction hall the next night, I stood outside the VIP booth, stomach churning from the stench of wolfsbane-infused perfume from Cilian.

 Through the glass, Caspian fed Cilian strawberries, he pointed to a balding man in the crowd—Arin, the martial camp director.

 ”;Used to undercut my deals,”; he sneered, ”;now he begs for scraps.”;

 Cilian giggled, nuzzling his

Caspian’s vision blurred as he stared at the vase—its shattered limbs, the grotesque parody of his children’s faces.

 For a heartbeat, his wolf howled, primal and unhinged, as if the bond he’d denied surged to life.

 ”;How dare you!”;

 He roared, the sound shaking the auction hall’s chandeliers.

 His claws punched through the velvet booth railing, silver splinters embedding in his palms. ”;You carved their faces into this filth?!”;

 Beside him, Cilian flinched. ”;It’s just a likeness—”;

 ”;Silence!”; Caspian backhanded her.

 But in an instant of clarity, Caspian’s first thought was that this had to be Arin’s sick prank—a grotesque mockery, crafting a model in his children’s likeness to make him look like a fool.

 Arin’s laugh was a blade dragged over gravel.

 ”;Oh, I have plenty to spend, Alpha. Remember Silver Wood Pack? The one you starved into bankruptcy? I’ve been saving yea

Three sunrises later, Caspian returned.

 He wrinkled his nose at the mourning banners—black velvet embroidered with the pack’s grief runes. ”;This funeral porn is tiresome,”; he snapped, golden eyes scanning the room.

 ”;Where are the whelps? I told them to greet their new sibling properly.”;

 My nails bit into my palms.

 ”;They’re ashes”; I said, voice flat as the grave.

 ”;But by all means, replace them with Cilian’s bastard.”;

 Caspian froze.

 For a heartbeat, his alpha swagger faltered…

 then Cilian slithered into the room.

 ”;Of course I’m just a servant’s daughter,the pup I gave birth to is a bastard.”; she purred, pressing her belly—swollen with his pup—against his chest.

 Cilian’s sobs turned to full-body shakes as she burrowed into Caspian’s chest.

 ”;You’re not ‘low’ compared to Aurelian,”; he purred. His thumb traced the mating mark on her throat. ”;You clawed your way from mud to my side. That’s power.”;

 I laughed—sharp, bitte. ”;Power? She’s been feeding from my father’s blood fund since birth. Daddy’s little secret,.”;

 Caspian stiffened. ”;What is she talking about?”;

 ”;Ask her why my father’s will mentions a ‘second daughter,’”; I said, advancing.

 Cilian may wear the title of ”;nanny’s daughter,”; but her scent tells the truth—my father’s truth.

 The same musk lingered on him the night my mother died, howling herself to an early grave after finding them tangled in the moonlit garden.

 He inherited her fortune, her pack, everything—and gifted Cilian the role of my ”;beloved stepsister.”;

 Every doll, every dress, every breath I took, she clawed from my grasp.

 Including Caspian.

 ”;Stop lying!”; she wailed, collapsing to the floor. ”;Tour pup—!”;

 He lifted her. ”;You dared to treat her like this.Fetch the bone breakers.”;

 The enforcers dragged me to the punishment stone before I could protest.

 My hands—still stained with Stephanie’s ashes—were forced into the silver finger crusher.

 ”;Wait—!”; I screamed, but the first snap of bone drowned me out.

 White-hot pain exploded in my pinky, the scent of burning flesh mixing with the iron tang of blood.

 Across the room, the twins funeral portraits rattled on the altar, their eyes seeming to follow the torture.

 Cilian smirked through her fake tears, pointing at the portraits.

 ”;Their energy sickens the pup. Destroy them.”;

 Caspian didn’t hesitate.

 He tore the frames from the wall, the glass shattering as he hurled them into the hearth.

 ”;They’re better off ash.”;

 ”;THOSE ARE MY CHILDREN!”; I howled, the sound ripping from my wolf’s throat.

 The punishment stone cracked beneath my knees as I shifted partially. ”;You created that weakness by selling them to butchers!”;

 He froze, the portrait of Stephanie’s missing tooth staring up at him from the debris.

 For a heartbeat, his scent flickered—doubt—before Cilian’s hand patted his.

 ”;She’s feral,”; she hissed.

 Caspian’s resolve hardened.

 He nodded to the enforcers, and the crusher tightened on my ring finger, the one still wearing his claim band. ”;Break her writing hand. Maybe then she’ll learn to stop spinning fairy tales.”;

 The second snap was louder, my scream blending with the wind that suddenly howled through the broken window.

 Rain suddenly poured down, and the moon vanished.

 Cilian laughed, a high, victorious trill. ”;See? Even the Moon rejects her lies.”;

 I sobbed and thrashed, my hand nearly wrenching free from its socket as I collapsed to my knees, forehead striking the marble in a desperate rhythm.

 ”;Caspian, please—”;

 My voice broke on a wheeze, blood from my shattered fingers painting the floor in jagged streaks. ”;I’ll beg—I’ll crawl—just don’t—”;


”;Please don’t do this to our children!”;

 I screamed, crawling over shards of their shattered portraits.

 ”;I’ll take any punishment—just stop destroying their memory!”;

 Caspian ignored me, sweeping Cilian into his arms as her fake whimpers turned to exaggerated moans.

 ”;Save your histrionics,”; he snapped, pausing at the door.

 ”;I’ll forgive this… performance. Tomorrow’s auction will make it right. I’ll buy the pups a priceless relic. Happy?”;

 His Bentley roared to life, leaving me kneeling in the wreckage.

 At the auction hall the next night, I stood outside the VIP booth, stomach churning from the stench of wolfsbane-infused perfume from Cilian.

 Through the glass, Caspian fed Cilian strawberries, he pointed to a balding man in the crowd—Arin, the martial camp director.

 ”;Used to undercut my deals,”; he sneered, ”;now he begs for scraps.”;

 Cilian giggled, nuzzling his neck. ”;Pathetic .”;

 My wolf howled in my chest. That’s the man who skinned our children.

 I ent

Chapter 4