Before I could voice my thoughts, Ophelia’s voice cut through the tension. “Alpha, my foot hurts, and so does my face. Can you check if it’s swollen? I wonder if it will affect tomorrow’s Alpha gathering that we will attend.”
Caspian’s attention snapped to Ophelia, his concern for her evident in the way he gently cradled her in his arms. She had taken full advantage of his sudden shift in focus, leaning into him as if she were a fragile porcelain doll. The slap I had landed with all my might had left a red handprint on her fair cheek, and her eyes were now brimming with crocodile tears.
Seeing Caspian tenderly wiping her tears away was a painful reminder of what we once shared. I could still remember how he used to be kind to me when we were younger—how he would help me up if I fell and wipe away my tears with the same tenderness he now reserved for Ophelia. The realization that those moments were long gone, replaced by this cruel charade, was almost unbearable.
“Claire,” Caspian said, his voice cold and devoid of the warmth it used to hold. “Apologize to your sister.”
I lifted my chin defiantly, straightening my spine. “No!” I said firmly, not willing to give in. The audacity to defy him, to challenge him like this, seemed to surprise him. It was almost as if he couldn’t reconcile this version of me with the one he used to know.
The irony wasn’t lost on me. When I was falling for him, I was cautious, meticulous around him, always hoping to earn his approval. I had given him my genuine affection, fearful that he might turn away from me. But nothing I did was ever enough. I could never measure up to Ophelia in his eyes.
Caspian looked taken aback for a moment, but his surprise quickly hardened into resolve. He settled back on the couch with Ophelia nestled in his arms, his gaze fixed on me with an almost casual air. “Claire, don’t make me angry,” he warned.
His wolf guards, who had been silent witnesses to the scene, stepped forward, blocking my path. With a steely glare, they escorted me back in front of Caspian and Ophelia.
Caspian’s posture was relaxed, but the pressure in the room was suffocating. He sat there with his legs crossed, his eyes locked onto me with an unnerving calm. “Apologize to Ophelia,” he said again, his tone brooking no argument.