Kaya
"What?" I barely manage to whisper, my voice trembling with fear.
I don't know how I managed to dodge that brush—but somehow, I did—and it only seemed to enrage Melissa further.
"Stop pretending, you goddamn bitch!" she hisses, her eyes darkening as the presence of her wolf stirs just beneath the surface. I blink several times, still disoriented and unsure of what exactly I've done wrong. Before I can make sense of it, she's suddenly in front of me, her long fingers wrapping tightly around my neck.
"You ruined it! You ruined my gift!"
Her furious growl is deafening, echoing in my skull. My vision starts to blur as my lungs burn for air, but through the haze, I shift my gaze over her shoulder—and gasp.
There, by the window, stands an easel holding a framed painting. Or what's left of it. The once-beautiful image has been completely defaced, splattered with streaks and blotches of paint, like someone attacked it in a fit of rage.
Now I finally understand what she's talking about. But she's wrong—completely wrong.
"I... I didn't do it..." I choke out, my voice barely audible as I struggle against her crushing grip.
Melissa's eyes narrow, her lips curling back to reveal sharp fangs, her wolf just inches from the surface. "Don't lie to me! I know you were cleaning my room last night! The maids confirmed it!"
My heart sinks. I didn't even step foot on this floor yesterday—I spent the entire day tending the garden. So how did I become the prime suspect here?
"So?" Melissa scowls at me, her eyes blazing with fury. "Are you going to deny it?"
She finally lets go of my neck, and I gasp for breath—but the relief is short-lived. With a sharp glare, Melissa storms over to the easel, grabs the ruined painting, and hurls it at me without hesitation.
I flinch and instinctively try to dodge, but my foot catches on the floor. I stumble backward and crash onto the wooden boards, my knees slamming against them with a jolt of pain.
Since when did she start throwing things like this?
"Melissa," I croak, struggling to speak through the ache in my throat and the sting in my joints. "It wasn't me. I was on garden duty all day yesterday. The head maid keeps a record—you can check the logs."
Whoever framed me knew exactly what they were doing. Melissa never believes a word I say, and they clearly counted on that. But the facts don't lie—those duty logs are my only hope of proving I wasn't even near her room.
"What?!" she snaps, her voice shrill with disbelief. Clearly, she's not interested in logic. "You think I have time to go digging through fucking logs?! His birthday is in two days, you idiot! What am I supposed to give him now?!"
Ah. So that's it. The painting was meant to be a gift—for Reiner.
Of course. That explains the rage.
Reiner and I share the same birthday, though he was born two years before me. Back then, we used to celebrate it together, laughing over cake and silly gifts.
But that time feels like a lifetime ago. Now, the mere mention of my birthday is practically forbidden. The tradition has faded so deeply that even I tend to forget it—until I'm reminded, once again, by the looming celebration of his.
"I'm sorry," I try again, my voice quiet, almost pleading. I already know it's useless—but still, I speak. "But it wasn't me. I swear."
"You swear?" Melissa leans over me, her shadow falling like a veil of darkness. Her presence is heavier now—thick with rage and something far more dangerous. "You were born into a family of liars. Was it jealousy that drove you to do this, you pathetic bitch?"
She spits the words like venom, every syllable dripping with scorn. Her voice is low, cold, slithering—like a serpent coiling around my throat. And even though she hasn't touched me, I feel myself shrinking beneath the oppressive weight of her fury.
When her wolf stirs just beneath the surface, I feel it like a storm pressing against my skin. And I... I have no one to stand behind me. No one to shield me. No wolf to answer back.
Maybe she's right. Maybe I am a liar. A jealous liar. In her eyes, my guilt is already written in stone. My voice means nothing. I've already lost.
"Teya!" Melissa snaps, stepping back with a sharp click of her heel. She flicks her fingers toward the door, and, as if summoned by a spell, the head maid walks in. Her narrow brown eyes sweep over me with thinly veiled contempt.
"Strip her naked and take her to the backyard," Melissa commands, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at me like I'm filth she refuses to touch. "Twenty lashes for theft. And leave her tied out there until the sun sets."
"What…?" I don't even try to hold back the disbelief cracking my voice. What she just said hits harder than the frame she threw at me. My heart stumbles in my chest.
Even the head maid hesitates, visibly stunned. "Uhm… Miss Melissa?" she begins cautiously. "I'm not sure what's happening here, but that's an extreme punishment. I'll need to confirm with Alpha Reiner before carrying out—"
"How dare you?!" Melissa snaps, cutting her off mid-sentence. Her eyes blaze with fury, and the force of her glare makes Teya flinch and bow her head instantly.
"I'm going to be the future Luna of this pack," she hisses, her voice sharp as broken glass. "And you dare question me? Maybe you'd like to join her—hmm? How does fifty lashes sound to you?"
Teya trembles, her face draining of color. Her lips part in a stammer. "N-No! I'm sorry, Miss! I'll carry out your orders right away!"
Of course, I think bitterly, biting down hard on the inside of my cheek to keep from saying it aloud. If I were in her place, I wouldn't want to be me either.
Still, it stings.
It always does—this reminder that even in the face of cruelty and injustice, no one will stand up for me. No one will risk it. And that's what terrifies me most. If Melissa really becomes the Luna of this pack… I might not survive her reign.
"Get up," Teya mutters, her hand gripping my shoulder with unnecessary force. Her fingers dig into my skin like claws. "Don't make me call the male omegas to drag you out."
I grit my teeth, forcing my aching body to move. I rise, stiff and silent, and walk toward the door. I don't look back.
But I feel it.
Melissa is smiling.