“Again with your ridiculous accusations? You’re imagining things, Liora! It’s not what you think!”
“Then what exactly is it, Alaric?” I demanded, my voice trembling with suppressed fury. “You and Theodore both drove here—why is it suddenly your responsibility alone to take her home?”
A flash of irritation passed over his face before he exhaled deeply, clearly trying to stay composed. “Liora, are we seriously doing this again? You’re jealous of Camilla, aren’t you? How many times must I tell you that she’s like a sister to me?”
“She’s all alone,” he continued, forcing calm into his tone. “Her mate left her, and she’s raising a child without help. How could I not feel compassion for her situation? Camilla has been my friend since childhood—I can’t just ignore her struggles.”
I took a step back, shaking my head. “If she’s really separated from her mate, then why does she want to merge our packs? Doesn’t she realize the chaos it could bring to you?” The bitterness in my voice was hard to hide. I hated the way he defended her so passionately while I—his wife—was treated like an inconvenience.
He frowned, his annoyance seeping through his calm facade. “Liora, stay out of matters you don’t understand and focus on your place at home. The merger will strengthen both our territories and give us an advantage. It’s for the good of everyone.”
He stepped closer, his tone softening as he brushed a kiss against my forehead, fingers tightening around mine as if trying to soothe a child. “Don’t let jealousy cloud your thoughts, Liora. You’re going to be a mother soon. If you can’t control your emotions, how will you raise our child properly?”
I forced a small smile, staring at the man I had called my husband for three years—unaware that I had already lost our baby because of his carelessness.
“But wasn’t it you,” I said quietly, “who joked with your friends that since I’m an orphan, I wouldn’t know how to raise a child—and that Camilla should help me learn?”
Alaric’s expression froze. He looked as though a bucket of icy water had been poured over him. “Were you spying on me? That was a misunderstanding, Liora. I was drunk that night—I didn’t mean what I said.”
Before I could reply, his phone rang, flashing Victoria’s name. I motioned for him to answer.
He hesitated but picked up. A child’s bright voice came through the speaker, cheerful and innocent. “Daddy! I miss you! When will you come and play with Mommy and me? When are you both coming home?”
I stood frozen. The world around me went silent as Alaric’s face paled. He swallowed hard, trying to recover.
“Mark,” he said quietly, “call me uncle, okay?”
“But Mommy said I can call you Dad!” the boy replied in confusion.
“Your mother is here with me,” Alaric said quickly, his voice strained. “We’ll be back soon, okay?” And with that, he hung up.
“Liora—” he began, but I was too exhausted to listen.
My voice came out hollow. “Do whatever you want, Alaric.”
I turned to leave, but his arms wrapped around me from behind, his breath brushing my ear. “You just need to learn to adapt,” he murmured. “I can’t always give you what you want, but from now on, I’ll be around. I’ll take care of our baby.”
He pressed a soft kiss on my cheek as if that would erase the pain.
I wasn’t even home yet when my phone vibrated with a message—from Theodore.
[Sister-in-law, Camilla isn’t feeling well, so Alaric won’t be home tomorrow.]
I knew immediately what that meant. Alaric was planning a grand banquet to welcome Camilla’s pack, yet I wasn’t invited. My opposition to the merger had made him exclude me entirely.
Tears welled in my eyes as I scrolled through my social media feed, only to see Camilla’s latest post:
“Shopping for tomorrow’s party! Trying to find matching outfits for my two favorite men ️”
The attached photo made my blood run cold—Alaric stood smiling, holding Camilla’s son in his arms, while she leaned on his shoulder like they were a family.
Before I could even process the ache in my chest, the driver’s panicked shout pierced the silence.
“Madam! Lower your head!”
I looked up just in time to see the glaring headlights of a truck speeding toward us. The driver swerved, but it was too late. The impact was deafening. Metal twisted, glass shattered, and the world spun as the car flipped violently.
My head slammed against the window. Blood trickled down my shoulder, warm and sticky. My vision blurred, but faint memories began to flicker through the haze—my parents’ smiles, my brothers’ laughter, the palace gardens from my childhood.
“Mom… Dad… big brother…” I whispered weakly as the world faded in and out.
My trembling hand reached for my phone. With what little strength I had left, I dialed my father’s number. He answered on the first ring, his familiar voice a mixture of sternness and concern.
“What is it, Liora? You only remember your father now—”
“D-Dad…” My voice cracked. “I… I’m s-so sorry for disappointing you… and Mom…”
“Liora! Where are you? What’s happening?!” he shouted in alarm, his voice trembling.
“I love you all…” I whispered as the phone slipped from my hand. My body went limp, my breathing shallow. For the first time in years, I felt at peace—free from the pain and betrayal that had become my life.
“Liora! Liora! Damn it—where are you, my daughter?!” my father’s desperate voice echoed faintly from the phone as darkness finally claimed me.
