|c.4|

The tension in the room was suffocating as Channary stared her father down, her heart hammering against her ribs. His words echoed in her ears—cruel, unforgiving, and final.

“You’ve been nothing but a stain on this family’s name,” Roman spat, his eyes like shards of ice. “Your actions on the Blood Moon have brought shame to our entire pack. You’re not my daughter anymore.”

Channary flinched, but only for a moment. Her jaw tightened as she forced herself to meet his gaze, refusing to let him see her break. Her voice, though trembling, carried a quiet, simmering rage.

“You never wanted me, did you?” she asked. “Not really. You only tolerated me because I was your firstborn.”

Roman’s nostrils flared, and for a moment, she thought he might deny it. Instead, he crossed his arms, his silence damning.

“You wanted a son,” Channary continued, her voice gaining strength. “That’s why you’ve been trying outside of your mate, isn’t it? You think I didn’t know? You think the pack didn’t know?” Her laugh was bitter, sharp. “They all know, Father. And they laugh at her for it—at Māmā. At the Luna who couldn’t give you what you wanted.”

Her mother’s gasp was soft, barely audible, but Channary heard it. She turned her head slightly, catching the look of wounded disbelief on her mother’s face.

“Don’t you dare,” Roman growled, his voice low and menacing, “drag your mother into this.”

“She’s already in it!” Channary snapped. “You put her in it. All those whispers, all those pitying looks she gets—it’s because of you. You humiliate her, and for what? For a son? For an heir?” She shook her head, her voice breaking. “You don’t care about this family. You only care about your legacy.”

“That’s enough!” Roman roared, his wolf bleeding into his voice, his eyes flashing with fury. “You don’t know anything about what it means to lead a pack.”

“No, I don’t,” Channary retorted, her voice trembling with rage. “Because you never let me. All my life, you told me I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t—” Her voice broke completely, but she pushed through it, glaring at him with tear-filled eyes. “I wasn’t him. The son you’ve been trying to replace me with since the day I was born.”

Roman’s jaw tightened, his lips pulling into a thin line. “You’ve done nothing to prove me wrong,” he said coldly. “And now, you’ve sealed your fate by embarrassing this family in front of the entire pack.”

Channary laughed again, the sound hollow. “Embarrassing the family? That’s rich, coming from you. How many illegitimate pups have you sired now, Father? Three? Four? Or have you lost count?”

Roman’s hand twitched, his wolf barely held at bay. “You have twenty-four hours to leave this territory,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “If you’re still here by sunrise tomorrow, I will treat you like any other traitor. You’ll be hunted down and eliminated. Do you understand me?”

Channary’s heart sank, but she refused to let him see her fear. “Fine,” she said, her voice cold. “I’m better off without this pack. Without you.” She turned toward the door but paused, glancing back over her shoulder. “Uncle Keaton is on his way to get me. I told him everything.”

Roman’s face darkened, his wolf rising to the surface. “That rogue doesn’t belong here,” he growled. “If he steps foot on my land—”

“What?” Channary cut him off, her voice mocking. “You’ll fight him? We both know you’ve never been able to handle Uncle Keaton.”

Roman’s fury boiled over, his growl reverberating through the room. “Get out of my sight,” he snarled.

---

Keaton’s truck pulled into the driveway as the moon hung low in the sky, its silvery glow illuminating the tense scene. Channary stood on the porch, her bag clutched tightly in her hands. Her mother lingered just inside the doorway, her face pale and drawn, while Roman stood at the edge of the porch, his posture stiff with barely contained rage.

Keaton stepped out of the truck, his presence commanding. His sharp eyes scanned the scene, taking in Roman’s tense stance, Channary’s trembling hands, and his sister’s haunted expression. His gaze softened briefly when it landed on Channary, but the moment was fleeting. He turned his attention to Roman, his expression hardening.

“Roman,” Keaton said evenly, his voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of steel. “Throwing your own daughter out? Really? Even for you, that’s low.”

“She’s no longer my daughter,” Roman replied, his tone clipped. “She’s disgraced this family and this pack.”

Keaton’s laugh was short and humorless. “Disgraced? You mean you’ve disgraced this family. Everyone knows what you’ve been up to, Roman. Half the pack’s pups could be yours for all we know.”

Roman’s wolf surged forward, his growl deep and menacing. “Watch your mouth, Keaton.”

“Or what?” Keaton stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. “You’ll fight me? You’ll try to chase me off your precious land?”

Roman’s wolf responded instinctively, and within seconds, the two men collided. The sound of their clash echoed through the night, their growls and snarls tearing through the tense silence. Channary stumbled back, clutching her bag, while her mother cried out in alarm.

“Keaton, stop!” her mother screamed, rushing toward them. “Please, stop!”

Keaton had Roman pinned against the porch railing, his arm pressing into his throat. “You’re a pathetic excuse for an Alpha,” Keaton snarled, his voice filled with contempt. “You don’t deserve this pack—or your family.”

“Keaton!” her mother begged, tears streaming down her face. “Please, let him go!”

With a growl of frustration, Keaton released Roman, shoving him away. He turned to his sister, his expression one of disappointment and disgust. “You chose this, Mia,” he said, his voice cold. “You chose him over your own daughter. Don’t come crying to me when it all falls apart.”

Mia reached out, her hands trembling, but Keaton stepped back, shaking his head. “You’re on your own now,” he said.

He turned to Channary, his expression softening. “Let’s go, kid.”

---

As they drove away, Channary stared out the window, the familiar landscape blurring into darkness. Silent tears streamed down her face, and her chest ached with the weight of everything she was leaving behind.

Keaton glanced at her, his grip steady on the wheel. “We’ll figure this out,” he said softly. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Channary didn’t respond. Her voice was lost, swallowed by the overwhelming grief and fear that threatened to consume her. All she could do was nod, clinging to the faint hope that maybe, just maybe, this new beginning wouldn’t be the end of her.