I scoffed under my breath, biting down on the scream clawing its way out. Of course. Vivian, the golden child. Vivian, who could do no wrong. And me? I was just the convenient scapegoat.
Then he turned back to me, his gaze hard as steel. “Apologize to your sister, Izara,” he commanded, his tone laced with authority. “You were out of line.”
Izara's POV
I felt my nails bite into my palms, my blood boiling under my skin. Apologize? To her?
"No. I won’t. She deserved it—for my son."
For a second, his shock was unmistakable. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head. For years, I’d bent over backward for him, swallowing every ounce of pride, desperate for even a shred of affection. But those days were gone. The old Izara—the one who begged for his attention—was dead. Kallias had given me something no one else ever had: a reason to fight back.
No more love.
No more begging.
No more chasing a man who never wanted me.
I needed to leave. Now. My body screamed for the door, but just as I took a step forward, his voice cracked like a whip.
"Izara!" he snapped. "Don’t you dare walk away. Apologize to your sister!"
I froze, not because I was scared, but because I was pissed. Fury surged through me, hot and blinding. Before I could even reply, two pack warriors moved to block my path. Their hands clamped down on my arms like iron cuffs, their grip unrelenting.
I struggled, my wolf snarling in my mind, but they were too strong. Too many.
Mavros loomed over me, his gaze brimming with contempt. “I warned you not to test me, Izara. Now apologize,” he growled, his voice low and final, like a judge sentencing me.
Vivian, of course, stepped in with her syrupy sweet voice. "Alpha Mavros, don’t... Sis Izara didn’t mean it," she cooed, pretending to care.
I couldn’t help the scoff that slipped out. Her fake concern was almost funny—if I wasn’t the one paying the price.
“You’re too kind, Vivian,” Mavros said, his tone softening as he turned to her. “She doesn’t deserve your kindness. After what she did, it’s clear she doesn’t see you as her sister.”
His words weren’t just venomous—they were nuclear. They didn’t sting; they burned. And as I watched them, their twisted bond, I cursed myself for ever loving him.
“You know the rules,” Mavros continued, his voice snapping back to cold authority. “Anyone who harms Vivian is punished—twice.”