Chapter 3
I was only eight years old when my half-sister stole the heirloom my mother had left me—a luxurious fur coat. I went to my father, the Alpha of the Silver Crescent Pack, to complain. He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "The coat was ruined by a rogue’s claws. I’ll buy you a new one." Later, as I passed by my half-sister’s quarters, I saw her flaunting the coat, boasting about its exquisite craftsmanship and the precious gems adorning it. The other pack members oohed and aahed, their admiration fueling her arrogance.
In a cold fury, I shifted my claws and tore the coat to shreds, right off her back. When my father arrived, she was pinned beneath me, too stunned to cry, until she saw him and screamed for help. I held my bloodied claws, my gaze steady as I looked at him. "The rogue ruined my coat, Father. Don’t forget to buy me a new one." My calm demeanor unnerved him so much that he forgot to scold me. I walked away, the crowd parting silently before me.
The next day, an identical coat was delivered to my quarters. I heard my half-sister’s mother had spent all her savings to treat her wounds. After that, my half-sister never dared to come near my part of the packhouse again. Rumors spread through the pack—tales of my ruthlessness, how I prowled the streets at night, seeking revenge. It was around this time that Malia Hughes appeared in my life.
Malia, the daughter of the Beta, pushed me into the lake during a pack gathering. I clawed my way out, grabbed her, and threw her back in. She nearly drowned. Her father went to the Lycan King, demanding that my father punish me severely. The King summoned me, and when he asked for witnesses, no one came forward to defend me—except Malia. "It was Malia who provoked Giselle first," she said firmly. "If there’s to be punishment, it should be fair." The King, after hearing the full story, didn’t punish me. Instead, he ordered Malia’s father to discipline his own daughter.
Before Malia, my philosophy had been simple: hurt those who hurt me. But she taught me something different. "Don’t sacrifice yourself to punish others," she said. "It’s not worth it. Make them suffer without giving them a reason to blame you." I warned her to stay away from me. "I’m toxic," I said. Malia just smiled. "That’s fine. I’ve got an antidote."
From then on, whenever I got into trouble, Malia was there to clean up the mess. The pack stopped calling me a monster and instead pitied me as a motherless girl tormented by her stepfamily. I asked Malia once why she helped me. She shrugged and said, "With your reputation and lineage, you might end up as the Luna someday. I’m just securing my future by sticking with you." I didn’t believe her—not until the day of my Come of Age Ceremony, when my mate bond with the future Lycan King, Rayan Carr, was formally recognized. That’s when Malia told me the truth.
She confessed that she was from another world, sent here to save me. Without her intervention, she said, I would have destroyed the entire kingdom. But now, with my life on the right path, she was ready to leave. "When this body dies, I’ll return to my world," she explained. "I love it there. You can’t keep me here." I was glad, for her sake, that she could go back. I didn’t try to stop her.
But it was Shawn Price who made her stay. At the time, I was happy about it. I didn’t know then that Elizabeth Warren would come into our lives and change everything.
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