Louise's POV
"Don't ever come back here again! I warned you, didn't I? How could you not understand? You carry the blood of evil! You are no daughter of mine!"
My father's voice echoed like thunder in the room, filled with nothing but loathing. There was no affection in his eyes. No care. Just revulsion.
Why had I come back?
What was the purpose of this pain?
My eyes blurred with tears. "I'm sorry… I never intended for things to end up like this."
"Get her out of my sight! Take her to her quarters!" he shouted.
Without a shred of kindness, two guards seized me, their grip harsh and unforgiving, treating me like some criminal off the street. Not like the Alpha’s daughter. Not even like a person.
They threw me into my room, and I collapsed onto the floor with a heavy thud. I didn’t move. I simply stared at the ceiling, detached from everything.
Why did I return at all?
The ache inside me was suffocating—an unbearable weight.
Why was I still breathing? Just to be called a killer? To be rejected by my own family? Betrayed by the one person I had given my heart to?
Moon Goddess, what sin did I commit to deserve this torment?
My wolf whimpered quietly within me, sensing my torment and heartbreak. She urged me to endure, to fight for what was right.
But what remained worth fighting for?
I forced myself to sit up and glanced down at my trembling hands—bloodied and torn, the wounds refusing to close quickly.
I had nothing left to give.
I’d never been the kind to harbor hate. Perhaps that was my fatal flaw. Maybe I was foolish to still feel anything for people who only wished I’d disappear.
I laughed. A cold, bitter laugh that filled the silence like shattered glass. It felt unhinged. Like I was slipping into madness.
When Chelsea’s birthday came, I still went. The entire pack gathered to honor her memory as if she were still among them. I stood at a distance, unnoticed, watching as they lifted her framed portrait onto a temporary altar. She looked young. Radiant.
I wore the dress she had picked for me—a modest blue one.
Charlene approached with a soft smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Did Mom ask you to come, Louise? You really shouldn’t be here…” She sounded concerned, but I knew it was just an act.
Phyllis stood beside her, offering no words, no comfort. He avoided my eyes entirely. He looked… embarrassed.
Suddenly, my mother appeared and grabbed my arm, her grip iron-tight, dragging me forward without a word of explanation.
She led me directly to the empty casket.
“Kneel,” she commanded sharply. “Tell us where our Chelsea is buried.”
As if I wasn’t her child. As if I didn’t matter at all.
Then my father stormed up, his rage almost palpable. "Have you lost your mind, My Luna? Why would you bring her here?"
“She belongs here,” my mother replied firmly. “She needs to atone for her sins. She must tell us where Chelsea’s remains are.”
I stared down at the casket, cold and hollow.
Would my death bring them peace?
No.
They’d rejoice. They’d claim justice had prevailed. That the monster had been slain.
"My Luna, Alpha Derick… Please reconsider," Charlene whispered, holding Chelsea’s beloved doll—the same one I had chosen, the one Kian had given her.
My breath faltered.
The memory crashed down on me like a tidal wave.
Kian had been thrilled when I picked that doll. Chelsea had adored it. She carried it with her everywhere.
And the day after… Kian was gone.
Killed by rogues while managing a territorial dispute. He had been the future Alpha. But fate had stolen that future.
The entire Night Owl Pack mourned his loss.
But I wasn’t allowed to.
Because right after we buried Kian… Chelsea disappeared.
My gaze landed on Phyllis. He was finally looking at me, and there was something different in his eyes this time. Something softer.
"Charlene speaks with reason, Alpha Derick," he said gently.
"You still stand by the woman who took our only son’s child from us?" my father barked. "Are you blind, Alpha Phyllis?"
Phyllis clenched his jaw. “Is love that easy for you to discard, Alpha Derick? She is your daughter. I still care for her.”
“You care?” My father let out a cruel laugh. “You have feelings for a murderer?”
Whispers stirred among the pack—wolves from allied clans and neighboring territories—all murmuring my name like it was filth. The disgrace of Night Owl.
“She’s no daughter of mine,” my father declared, venom lacing every word. “She killed Chelsea. Her death would be justice!”
That was when I saw it.
Phyllis’s face turned red—not with anger, but humiliation.
Not because of me.
Because of himself.
Because he wasn’t standing beside me out of loyalty or love—he was doing it to save face in front of the others.
He didn’t love me.
Because if he did, he would’ve stayed. He would’ve believed in me.
I had thought Phyllis understood me more than anyone ever could. But I had been wrong.
No one truly knew who I was.
With slow, heavy steps, I walked toward the casket.
I lowered myself to my knees.
A shocked gasp spread through the crowd like wildfire.
Then came silence.
They were all watching.
Waiting.
Waiting for the confession that would never come.
