"I'll begin, my lord." Gerald hurriedly grabbed the opportunity to speak first. Settling into his seat, he took a deep breath to prepare himself for the speech he'd rehearsed severally in his head. "9 years ago, my youngest daughter, Mary Vaughn, was ambushed by Cecily Knight, sister to the alpha of the Chicago Pack, and poisoned with wolfsbane. This was no child's play, because my daughter had her wolf killed. All because of one pack's inability to control their member, my girl had to live the rest of her life without her important half."
"I see." Placing his elbows on the table, Draven intertwined his fingers, leaning forward to rest his jaw on it. "But as you said, that was 9 years ago. Why wait that long to seek justice?"Gerald swallowed, his fist clenching under the table. He could never bring up this matter without encountering that one question. "I hesitated because I once believed burying the matter was the best way to handle it. I no longer shareBiting her nails and tapping her feet, Cecily waited for Paul to return at the front door, because it was unbearable to do so in her room. She checked the window every five minutes for his car, pacing when she saw there was nothing in sight. When she finally heard the pleasant hum of the Maybach truck's engine, she frantically pulled open the door and ran outside. The car came to a halt, and the driver hurriedly got down to open the door to the passenger seats. Paul exited the vehicle, a hand in a pocket of his suit's trousers. Cecily studied his face, attempting to read his thoughts from the look on it. She failed. "Well... How did it go?" Following her brother at his side, she struggled to keep up with his quick steps. "What did the Lycan say? Why aren't you saying anything?" Paul ignored her, focusing more on entering his home. His mother was waiting for him inside, her hands clasped in front of her thighs. Unlike Cecily, she noticed immediately
Belinda was dying. She could feel her lungs giving way, the air in them finally exhausted. Her nerves had gone numb from the freezing temperature, and her hand ached from all that struggle to swim to the surface of the water. The cannonball at the end of the chain clamped around her ankle held her at the bottom of the river, however. She'd tried to free herself from the device, but she hadn't been strong enough. Nothing she ever did was enough. Giving up on holding her breath, Belinda let the water flow into her from every opening in her body. How had she gotten here? That was right, she'd had this coming for a while now. It would have eventually ended this way—her life was a tragedy bound to be closed in misery. Could she remember the last time she had been happy? She could, but it was so long ago. Most of her memories were either tainted with misery or anger. Had she ever done anything to deserve it? Nothing she knew of. As her body grew limp and stopped moving altogether, Belinda
"What in the moon goddess' name are you wearing?" Cecily placed a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh on entering the bedroom. She herself was dressed in a stylish white dress, one which looked suspiciously like a wedding gown, but Belinda decided not to comment on it. She would not give Cecily the satisfaction of knowing she was annoyed. Sashaying to Belinda, Cecily invaded the other's personal space by hooking an arm around Belinda's. She brightened her smile, and Belinda could have sworn that if she smiled any wider, her cheeks would tear. "Don't let it bother you. You look pretty no matter what." Cecily tapped her hand reassuringly over Belinda's. Only an expert would have detected the hidden layer of viciousness in the compliment, and that was exactly what Belinda was. She wasn't fooled, but she felt no anger toward Cecily either. In fact, at this point, the younger woman's silly games had become amusing. "Really, you're so lucky." Cecily let go of Belinda's han
Silence fell over the ballroom like the mist of the morning dew. All watched for Belinda's reaction, but the latter remained calm and unmoving. She gazed steadily at Derek, her eyes revealing none of her thoughts. At a point, Derek grew very uncomfortable. He looked away awkwardly, his hand moving to rub the back of his neck. "Please say something, Belinda." He finally turned back to her, his hazel eyes twinkling with what appeared to be remorse. "Please. I don't want to hurt you... or break your heart. I just—there's no easy way to break off an engagement, is there?" "So... You're rejecting me?" Belinda asked, her voice lacking any emotion. Stunned by her directness, Derek blinked stupidly. "What? No—I mean—yes! I'm really sorry, Belinda."His apology was ignored. Snapping her head to face her brother, Belinda fixed a vicious glare at the alpha of the Chicago Pack. Her countenance remained cold, but the venom in her eyes made up for the hostility her facial expression lacke
"Why are you acting all righteous now? You haven't been very kind to her either. Have you forgotten, you were the one that poisoned and killed her brother, your own son?"Belinda could hardly believe her ears. No, there had to have been a mistake. She must have overheard wrongly. Her family was cruel, but they weren't bloodthirsty. They would never go as far as murdering their own blood. Every muscle, bone, and vein in Belinda's body shook. They wouldn't. They couldn't. Right? That day was still so fresh in her mind—the day her twin brother had died. He'd suffered for weeks, so weak that he couldn't so much as get out of bed. Belinda had had to take care of him because no one else in the family would. She'd fed him, bathed him, and ensured he'd taken his medicine. She'd been 15 years old then—a young girl who was losing the one person who loved her and she loved back. Belinda remembered holding tightly to Baron's hand on his last day on earth. They'd both known he didn't have mu
Why was Cecily in front of her? Why was she in her bedroom? How could Cecily speak to her so casually after what she had done? Belinda had so many questions, but at the moment, she was preoccupied with one thing—protecting herself. Still facing Cecily, her fingers searched her bedside table for anything she could use as a weapon, and they curled around a sharpened pencil. The writing utensil might not do much to hurt a werewolf, but it would distract Cecily enough for Belinda to escape. "The dress looks a bit off on you, but it doesn't matter because it's just right for the occasion." Cecily clapped her hands together in delight. Belinda's facial features squeezed into a confused frown. "What?" "Don't tell me you haven't figured it out yet." Cecily folded her arms and pouted. "It's obvious Derek intends to propose tonight. He bought you a dress, told you to wear the dress, and is having dinner with our family." Her words only angered Belinda the more. "What are you talking
Sitting cross-legged on her bed, Belinda played with her engagement ring while battling with her thoughts. She was trying to wrap her head around the fact she'd traveled back in time. Really, it didn't sound out of place in a world where werewolves, vampires, and witches existed, but it was still overwhelming. One minute, she was drowning, the next, she was repeating an engagement that happened months ago. But how had she done it? Belinda absentmindedly slid the ring up and down her finger. She couldn't remember anything that would explain how she'd gone back to the past, but for a second, at the bottom of the river, she'd felt her wolf. She was certain of it—her powers had awakened whilst she fought for her life in those waters. Then why couldn't she feel anything now? Belinda tried communicating with the beast inside her, but all she got was silence. Had her wolf really gone dormant after finally awakening? Closing her eyes, Belinda massaged her temple in frustration. Her wolf was
With a flashlight in hand, Belinda walked down the stairs leading to the villa's wine cellar. She briefly gazed at the countless bottles filling the many racks in the large underground space, some over a century old. The Knight family boasted one of the most exotic wine collections in the country, but it was not why Belinda was here. Moving to a rack at a far corner of the cellar, she pushed down a bottle, and a wall slid away to reveal more stairs. At the bottom of the stairs was an iron door. The door was locked, but Belinda had learned how to pick locks as a kid. She'd been more mischievous than her brother, and infinitely more bored. After a few twists with a hairpin, the door swung open, and she stared at a smaller basement lined with more racks, but rather than wines, they were occupied by boxes. Belinda smiled to herself. She knew more secrets of the Knight family than anybody gave her credit for. Entering the room, she stuck her hand into one of the many unsealed boxes and p