Lyanna entered the den as though it were her own home.
Her stride was confident, graceful, and deliberate, each step carrying the weight of someone who had always been the object of admiration.
Marcus’s sour demeanor shifted almost instantly as his stern features softened into something close to pride. Adrian stood as well, his lips curving into a smile I hadn’t seen directed at me in years.
“Lyanna,” my father greeted warmly. “You’re here.”
“Welcome,” Adrian added, his voice low but threaded with approval. “You didn’t even say you were coming.”
I sat in silence as they exchanged greetings and embraced, nearly swallowed by the shadows of the room. Their joy and warmth barely brushed past me, as though I had become part of the furniture.
As if I am just an object to be ignored rather than a woman to be seen.
The sound of hurried footsteps broke the moment. My son, Jeremy, came darting from his room, his eyes alight with excitement as he rushed toward Lyanna.
“Aunt Lyanna!” He cried, flinging his small arms around her waist.
Lyanna’s laugh rang out, light and musical. She bent down to gather him into her arms, brushing her fingers through his hair with tenderness.
“Jeremy, you’ve grown so much. What a fine young man you are becoming.”
His eyes sparkled with pride at her words, and something inside me twisted painfully. My son had never greeted me that way, not even after days apart.
At that moment, they looked more like mother and child than I did with him, though I was his true mother.
Lyanna straightened, glowing beneath their adoration. Then, as if only just noticing me, she let her smile soften.
“Clara,” she said sweetly. “How are you?”
I forced my voice steady. “I’m fine.”
She tilted her head, feigning concern as her gaze lingered on me. “Are you sure? You don’t sound fine.”
Her words hung in the air like bait, and Adrian seized them without hesitation. He set aside the papers in his hand, his amber eyes narrowing in irritation.
“Of course, she isn’t fine,” he said sharply. “She’s been talking about taking a vacation, complaining about being overworked.”
My father’s scoff cut deeper than claws. His disappointment was sharp and merciless. “A vacation? From what, exactly? From cleaning up her own messes? From pretending to be Luna when she can barely carry herself as one?”
Heat burned along my neck and ears. My hands curled into fists at my sides, though my voice barely carried beyond a whisper. “I wasn’t complaining—”
Lyanna lifted her hand gently, silencing me with practiced grace.
“I think Clara does deserve a little break,” she said lightly, her tone carrying a false generosity. “Don’t you? I can take over her responsibilities while she enjoys herself for once.”
Adrian’s bitter laugh cut her suggestion to pieces.
“You? Take over her duties?” He shook his head, his voice hardening. “Lyanna, if anyone deserves a break, it’s you. You’ve been working harder than anyone.”
Marcus nodded firmly, his voice laden with approval. “Adrian’s right. Clara barely manages the simplest tasks, but Lyanna commands respect. She puts the pack before herself. You should be the one resting, not her.”
Lyanna lowered her lashes, her smile modest but calculated.
“It’s not hard work if you love it,” she murmured softly. “I don’t even think of it as work at all.”
Their admiration filled the room like a chorus. Marcus showered her with praise, Adrian added his approval, and Jeremy clung to her hand as though she were a goddess made flesh.
And me? I remained where I was, a shadow against the wall.
Lyanna glanced at her wristwatch before clapping her hands together lightly.
“Speaking of work,” she said brightly, “I reserved a restaurant for tonight. Why don’t we all go out for dinner?”
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “What’s the occasion?”
Her eyes glittered as she announced, “I’ve just been promoted. And with an increased salary.”
The room erupted with joy.
Adrian turned to me, his tone clipped and final. “We’re going out for dinner.”
Panic surged through me, my heart racing as I stepped forward quickly, the words spilling out before I could stop them.
“Adrian, wait. Today is our mating anniversary. I prepared a feast for us at home. Just for us.”
Lyanna gasped, covering her mouth in feigned surprise.
“Oh, I didn’t realize!” she exclaimed gently. “Then I’ll go alone tonight. We can celebrate together next time.”
Her voice dripped with false sweetness, her posture radiating the air of someone making a noble sacrifice.
Adrian’s brow furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin, displeased line.
Marcus scoffed harshly. “A feast? Don’t make me laugh. Clara can’t even cook properly. Whatever she made probably tastes like garbage. It’s better we go out with Lyanna than waste our time here.”
The words cracked against me like whips, each one sharper than the last.
Adrian’s gaze settled on me, cold as stone, his voice merciless. “Get ready, Clara. Or we’ll leave you behind.”
