Scarlett’s POV
Lana’s smile didn’t fade, but her eyes turned sharp, a flash of sothing hard and cold flickering beneath the surface. She stepped closer, placing her hands on my shoulders.
"My mother loved life, Scarlett," she said quietly. "She wouldn’t want us sitting in the dark crying for the rest of our lives. We’ve mourned for two years. Tonight, we celebrate you. And tonight, we finally breathe."
I looked at the red dress, then at the door. I could almost feel Liam, Leo, and Leon lurking in the hallways, their hatred and rejections still fresh. Going to a club on the night of their mother’s morial? If they caught us, there wouldn’t be enough of left to reject in three months.
"Lana, please," I whispered. "If the triplets find out..."
"They won’t," Lana said with a wink. "They’ll be too busy brooding in the study. Now, put the phone in your pocket. We have a long day ahead of us."
I swallowed the lump in my throat and whispered a shaky thank you. Jane and Jason stepped forward next, their faces beaming as they handed their own wrapped presents. Lana then reached for a smaller, elegantly decorated box from the vanity. "And this one," she said, "is from Lyra. She insisted you have it today."
I took the gifts, my fingers trembling. A sharp, stinging pain flared in my chest—not from the bond this ti, but from the guilt of what I was about to do. Lana was talking about dancing and partying, planning a future for us that would never happen. She didn’t know that tonight, when she went looking for to put on that red gown, I would be gone.
I was leaving tonight.
I stared at my friends, the people I had grown up with for over ten years. They were the only pieces of my childhood that hadn’t turned cruel, and the realization that I was looking at them for the last ti made my vision blur. Suddenly, I couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over.
"Oh, Scarlett," Lana cooed, pulling into another hug. She took them as happy tears, as if I were simply overwheld by their kindness. "Don’t cry, birthday girl. You deserve all of this and more."
I managed to nod, offering a tight, watery smile that felt like a lie. After a few more minutes of forced cheer, I excused myself, claiming I needed to get back to my duties before the Alphas noticed I was missing.
I hurried down the hall, the weight of the phone and the gifts heavy in my arms. When I reached my small room in the servants’ wing, I gently dropped the gifts on my bed. I stood in the center of my tiny room, my heart breaking. I had to start packing the few things I actually needed, but I couldn’t do it now. The morial preparations were in full swing, and if I went missing for too long, soone would co looking. I shoved the gifts under my thin pillow, hiding the smartphone and the red gown from any prying eyes, and hurried back out to the garden.
I went back to work, my body moving like a machine while my mind was miles away, planning my escape route. The sun was climbing higher, and the air was getting warr. I was struggling with a heavy stack of folding chairs, my muscles straining under the weight, when suddenly, a pair of rough hands grabbed my shoulders and yanked into the shadows of the storage shed.
It was one of the pack warriors—a man nad Silas who had always looked at with hungry eyes. He pinned against the rough wooden wall, his heavy scent of musk and stale sweat making gag.
"You are twenty now, Scarlett," he sneered, his face inches from mine. "A grown woman. No more playing the little orphan. Be my mistress, and I’ll make sure the rest of the staff stays clear of you. I’ll protect you from the triplets’ moods."
"Get your dirty hands off , Silas!" I spat, my voice trembling with rage.
The words had barely left my mouth when his hand flew out, his palm connecting with my cheek in a stinging slap. My head snapped to the side. Inside , Zoe howled, her fur bristling with a fury that matched my own. Before I could think, my hand moved on instinct. I slapped him back, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the small space.
Silas’s eyes turned a dark, murderous red. "You little bitch!"
He growled, grabbing the front of my tunic and slamming my head back against the wall. A sharp, white-hot pain exploded behind my eyes, and I scread as the world began to spin. Darkness threatened to pull under.
"I’ll teach you so respect!" he barked, raising his fist to strike again.
But the blow never landed.
"What do you think you’re doing?" a voice bood, cold and sharp as a winter frost.
Before I knew it, Leo appeared from nowhere. In a blur of movent, he ripped Silas away from and threw him across the shed like he was nothing more than a ragdoll. Silas hit a stack of crates, groaning as he collapsed to the floor.
Leo didn’t even look at the warrior. He turned to , his dark eyes scanning my face, settling on the bruise already forming on my temple. He didn’t ask what happened. Instead, he turned back to Silas, who was scrambling to his feet, stamring that the "bitch" had slapped him first. By now, a small crowd of staff had gathered at the entrance, huddled together in shock.
Leo didn’t say a word. He lunged, grabbing Silas by the throat and slamming his head against the stone wall. The sound of the impact was sickening. Leo didn’t stop; he slamd him again and again. Silas’s face quickly beca a mask of blood, his protests turning into wet, guttural gurgles, but Leo kept going with a terrifying, rhythmic violence.
He seed possessed, his Alpha aura suffocating the air in the small shed. He didn’t stop until a sharp, authoritative command cut through the chaos.
"Enough!"
We all turned to see Alpha Lennox standing there, his presence cold and commanding as he surveyed the carnage.
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