Chapter 20
After a few days of peace, Ariella showed up at my doorstep again. This time, she brought my mother as her reinforcement.
Luna Zelda Hughes, forever poised and composed, spoke with a voice that carried nothing but disappointment and reproach, her Alpha tone sharp and commanding.
"**Sofia Watson**, with your standing, what more could you possibly ask for by entering the Blue Moon Pack? Do you think Reed Palmer, a Gamma of the Silver Fang Pack, would truly consider someone like you?"
I rubbed my temples, the pressure building as I retorted, "I can grow rare herbs and earn my own wealth. Why do you all act as though I’m worthless, only fit for someone like Jalen Nelson, an Omega?"
"What use is your money? A Luna is judged by her grace, beauty, and the strength of her aura. I hired so many tutors for you, yet you never mastered anything. How could I have birthed such a dull daughter?"
Mother sighed, clearly exhausted, and gestured for me to pour her tea. I didn’t move. Instead, Ariella, ever the dutiful daughter, stepped forward and placed my expensive teacup in front of her, filling it with tea.
My inaction earned me another disappointed look from Mother, who clicked her tongue in disapproval before turning her adoring gaze to Ariella. Just as she reached for the cup, I covered it with my hand, ignoring her startled expression.
"**Mother**, I earn my own money, which means I can escape your control whenever I choose. The guards at my residence are paid with my funds. The expensive teacup in your hand? I bought it myself. You’ve been so focused on Ariella and the pack that you haven’t noticed my estate hasn’t drawn from the pack’s treasury in three years."
"Ariella and I are different. Without your affection, she might struggle to survive. But I’ve thrived without your care for years. **Mother**, I don’t need you, and I won’t grovel for your approval."
I watched calmly as the color drained from her face, a small sense of satisfaction bubbling inside me. She had always been so haughty in front of me, but for the first time, she looked defeated.
Ariella, seeing her ally falter, grew anxious and tried to fan the flames, her scent—a mix of lavender and something sharp—prickling the air.
"**Mother** has worked so hard, and yet you treat her like this. Have you forgotten all the kindness she’s shown you?"
I smirked at her theatrics, my own scent—rosemary and cedar—filling the space as I spoke. "Of course you think she’s kind—because all her gentleness has always been reserved for you."
You may also like
