I stared at Mira in disbelief, wondering if perhaps I had been the one who heard wrong.
"You cannot be serious, Mira," I said, my voice trembling almost as much as my resolve.
"Why?" She chuckled lightly. "The Alpha—or anyone from the Valeric pack—has never seen me. They've only heard about the perfect daughter of werewolf Dorian. They do not know what I look like, and even if they do…"
Her lips slowly tilted into a wicked smile.
"…we look alike, so they might not really be able to tell."
I opened and closed my mouth like a fish dragged forcefully out of water, my mind struggling to comprehend the cruelty of what she was suggesting.
"I cannot marry the Alpha of the SinBound Pack, Mira. I do not want to die."
"And so I deserve to die?" she scoffed sharply.
There wasn't a woman alive who had not heard of Alpha Azrael's story. Every woman feared she would be the next unfortunate soul bound to him in marriage.
Who could have imagined that such a dreadful duty would fall upon me instead?
"Mother, what do you think?" Mira continued eagerly. "Don't you think this is best? I'm only twenty-one—there's no way the thirty-year-old Alpha King would have even seen my face."
"That is true," Joy said with a slow nod of agreement.
"No!"
I stood abruptly, the chair scraping harshly against the floor and surprising even myself with the force of my movement.
"I will not marry the Alpha."
My voice wavered weakly at the end, betraying the courage I had tried so desperately to summon.
Joy rose to her feet as well. In two quick steps she approached me, and before I could even retreat, her hand struck my face with a resounding slap that sent me collapsing back into the chair.
"You ungrateful wench!" she seethed. "You think you can decide what to do with your life?"
Her chest rose and fell with fury.
"I raised you when your ingrate of a mother died. I raised you for twenty years!"
As a servant.
The unspoken words echoed bitterly in my mind.
"How dare you try to be ungrateful?" she huffed, resting a hand on her waist in indignation.
My gaze slowly turned toward my father.
He had never once been present whenever Joy or Mira maltreated me, yet he was always aware of their actions. Always aware.
Now it was my turn to crawl.
To cry.
To beg.
I dropped to my knees before him and clutched at his legs, my fingers tightening around the fabric of his trousers as though my life truly depended upon it.
"I am your daughter too, Father!" I cried desperately. "I am also your daughter! Do I not deserve to live?"
He turned his face away, unable—or perhaps unwilling—to look at me.
And in that moment, I finally understood.
He had never meant to give Mira's hand in marriage in the first place.
That was why he had summoned me here.
He had known Mira and Joy would suggest it.
He had known all along.
Slowly, my fingers loosened their hold on him.
I released him and sank back onto the floor, a hollow, humourless laugh escaping my lips.
Just when…
When would I ever become a priority?
★
The week passed far too quickly, ushering in the beginning of what would most likely be my ruin—perhaps even my death.
I stared silently at my reflection in the mirror as Mira's handmaiden styled my charcoal-black hair exactly the way she usually styled Mira's.
Half of my hair was gathered carefully into an elegant updo while the remaining strands cascaded down my back and shoulders.
Mira herself was present in the room, hopping and spinning with excitement like a child who had narrowly escaped punishment.
"I can't believe I almost sold my life to a cursed alpha. Phew!" she sighed dramatically before catching my gaze in the mirror.
"Don't look so pitiful, Elowen. At least even if you're dying, you'll die a Luna." She snorted. "Don't you think that's a privilege? From a half-human, half-werewolf to a Luna."
She laughed softly at her own cruelty.
Then she placed both of her hands upon my shoulders and leaned close, whispering near my ear after the maidservant had politely excused herself.
"I can't wait to mourn over your corpse in Eldorado's arm."
I slowly turned my head over my shoulder to look at her.
"Should you be this loud?"
"What?" Her brows furrowed in confusion.
"You seem very comfortable deceiving the Alpha," I replied quietly. "What if I tell him the truth?"
Her expression stilled.
"That I am not Mira. That I am only a half-human, half-werewolf?"
Mira clenched her fists briefly before pulling away with a sudden laugh.
"I was almost fooled for a second," she said lightly. "Why don't you go ahead, Elowen? Tell your husband-to-be that you are a switched bride. The wrong bride."
She tilted her head.
"And put Father's life in danger."
Her smile widened knowingly.
"I'm sure you cannot."
"What makes you so certain that I cannot?" I rose slowly from the chair.
"It's not as though Father gives a damn about me. Nor do you. Nor Joy."
Her eyes widened slightly at my words.
"So why should I care about putting Father's life in danger when he never cared about mine?"
The courage surging within me trembled violently in my chest.
Mira merely scoffed.
"You wouldn't do that."
Her voice was calm now—confident.
"You may act bold and confident, but we both know the truth."
She leaned closer again.
"You are far too scared to do something like that."
Her smile sharpened cruelly.
"Too disgustingly pitiful, Elowen."
"You're just a child suffering from loneliness. That is all you are."
Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction.
"This bold version of you?"
"It's only a façade."
Joy walked into the room at that exact moment.
She handed me a small glass bottle of perfume.
"My husband said to give this to you," she said flatly. "It will hide your human scent. Spray it on yourself."
I obeyed without protest.
The scent was soft and feminine—yet unmistakably the scent of a pure werewolf.
As though I were being carefully prepared for a role that did not belong to me.
"If you are finished," Joy said curtly, "we should leave."
I did not look at Mira or Joy as I walked out of the room.
The maidservants led me silently outside to Father's black Mercedes-Benz.
He was already seated inside while Clive, our driver, prepared the vehicle.
"I am certain you would not intend to stand outside while Clive drives, Elowen," Father said without lifting his eyes from the newspaper in his hands.
I entered the vehicle quietly, and the door was shut behind me from the outside.
The air inside the car already felt tense and suffocating.
And I could tell without a doubt that this was going to be a very long, very silent ride.