"How are we supposed to believe a murderer? A liar?" my father barked. "Even the Moonstone revealed your guilt!" His hand lunged forward and clamped around my throat.
I gasped for breath. My lungs screamed, my vision dimmed.
"Would the Moonstone lie?!" he roared. "Why won’t you admit what you did?! You’re a monster—you deserve death!"
I didn’t resist. I just stared at him—the man who once called me his little girl.
And then, I let out a cold, bitter smile.
"Then kill me," I croaked. "Isn’t that what you all want? The killer dead?"
His hands began to shake where they held me. Then suddenly, he let go, and I collapsed to the polished floor, gasping for air.
"Kill you?" His voice was like ice. "No. Death is too easy. You’ll suffer for what you’ve done. I won’t let a Gorman get away with murder—not even if she’s my own flesh and blood. As Alpha of Night Owl, I will make sure justice is done."
I pushed myself up slowly, my limbs weak, but my voice firm.
"You talk so much about justice," I said, pain laced in my words. "But you’ve never given me fairness. You didn’t even try to hear me out. You didn’t ask for the truth. You just threw me away—like a criminal—without a shred of proof."
A sharp slap rang through the room.
My face exploded in pain. I tasted blood on my lips.
"You will not speak to the Alpha that way!" my mother hissed.
Despite it all—despite how they had hurt me so deeply—I still cared.
I still loved them.
"I’ve respected you all my life," I said quietly, my voice turning cold. "But now I finally understand… I’ve had enough."
Another slap. This one from my father.
"Say another word and you’ll get more than that," he growled through gritted teeth.
I laughed bitterly. "Don’t worry. I’m done talking." I lifted my chin, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Believe whatever suits you. I won’t waste another breath trying to change your minds."
I turned my back on them and walked away.
My vision wavered, the world spinning as despair and exhaustion weighed heavy on me. Still, I kept moving—past the pack hall, past the main house—further away from the people I once called family.
I reached up, fingers brushing against the chain around my neck—the one that held the ring Phyllis had given me. A symbol of a love that had never been real.
I tore it off and flung it as far as I could.
There was nothing left for me here.
Nothing worth staying for.
Nothing worth living for.