CHAPTER 6

Isla's POV

Ding!

I stared at my phone as the screen lit up with Stefan’s message.

“Are you alright? Have your parents been too harsh on you?”

"Was... Adrian too intimidating?"

I laughed, wiping out a stray tear. It was funny how well he knew my situation, even though he wasn't there. He knew me too well. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. One friend and I can't even keep my dignity intact in front of me.

Just then, the door creaked open. My mother walked in. Her eyes widened in surprise and disdain when she saw me. As if she had seen a ghost, she scoffed, her voice cold as ice. “Isla, what are you still doing here? Haven't you done enough damage already? The pack is grieving, and here you are, sulking here like some victim."

She picked up something she had left and was about to leave when she froze in the doorway. Her gaze turned sharp as she glanced at me with suspicion and disgust as she tried to control the tears in her puffy eyes. "Just let my daughter go in peace. Today is not about you."

She left, slamming the door behind her without letting me respond. My daughter! I laughed bitterly. How could she forget that I was also her daughter? I sank to the floor, my heart aching. I curled up into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest. How could my own mother doubt me so thoroughly? And when had anything ever been about me? How could she think I could steal Elara's thunder at her funeral when I couldn't even compete when she was alive?

I could feel the tears burning behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not again. Not for them. Not because of her. Not for a pack that had never wanted me, never needed me. Not for a family that only ever looked at me with disappointment.

I rose to my feet, wiped my eyes clean, and took a deep breath. I didn't want anyone to see me in this situation. Otherwise, they would think I was pretending to be sad about her death, while nobody was even sparing me any time to think about her. Their accusations and their hatred overwhelmed me too much to feel anything else.

I looked at Elara's smiling, radiant photo one last time before making my way to my room, my safe space. As I walked through the hallway, faint murmurs, and suspicious eyes welcomed me.

"She has no shame!"

"Did she really kill Elara in the end? Why are they still keeping her around?"

"The alpha will not spare her. And he shouldn't!"

I ignored their whispers as if I was still wolfless, and I couldn't hear them. Not that they were trying to hide their burning hatred for me.

Elara’s death was just the latest chapter in a long history of being blamed for things I didn’t do. And even after her death, I couldn’t escape her shadow. She was still the favorite, the one they all grieved for. And I was just the scapegoat left behind to bear the weight of their anger.

At that moment, I knew it was time. The right time, despite the circumstances, despite Elara’s death. To them, if I left now, it would be about their reputation, and their image in the pack. But I couldn’t care less about their opinions anymore. I had enough. And this blame was the last straw. When she was alive, I was reduced to her silhouette. I wasn't willing to let her outweigh me, even in her death. I refused to be blamed for something I didn’t do, to live as a mere shadow of a dead person.

The truth was, I knew my own abilities. And I knew Elara had always been aware of that, too. Our relationship had always been distant, despite her facade of sister bond and her eternal love for me. In public, Elara had honed her role of the doting daughter, a loving sister, and the flawless pack member. But in private, she was a completely different person. I had seen the jealousy in her eyes when she looked at me. She went to great lengths to manipulate situations to make sure I was always the one who looked bad. She had spread lies and fake stories, making sure that I was seen as the problem child. She is the painter of my dark image. Her jealousy was a driving force. She knew I was more capable than her. She did everything out of fear that one day, her disguise would fall and I might overshadow her.

One of her tactics was to keep me away from Adrian. She always ensured that I never had any real interaction with him. Her deception had been thorough, her lies getting better with time as she desperately tried to maintain her status as Adrian's favorite, the future Luna. Maybe she was afraid that when he saw how capable I was and, given the similarity of our faces and builds, he might choose me one day over her. But why would I ever want a man who doesn't like me and can get tricked so easily? She never understood that out of her jealousy.

I understood why I was blamed, though it hurt me equally. It was Elara's crafty lie about meeting me for our birthday preparation that had stirred this problem for me. It must have been one of her schemes to paint me as the villain. And in a way, she was succeeding. No one would believe Elara lied to Adrian. We were never supposed to meet. But this truth is going to get buried with her.

Since no one wanted to believe in me, and I had reached a point where I didn't want to explain further, I needed to leave. Stefan was equally an outcast and, even if he believed in me, it wouldn't change things either. I decided that as soon as the funeral was over, I would pack my things and leave this place for good. I retreated to my room to wait for the funeral in quiet seclusion.

My phone buzzed again. Another message from Stefan.

"I am at your window. Let me in."

I sighed, moving to the window, and sliding it open just enough for him to slip inside. He landed softly on his feet. His eyes immediately searched my face, worry etched into every line.

"Isla… what the hell happened?" he asked, whispering. "Why is everyone saying you killed Elara?"

"I didn’t do anything, Stefan!" I cut him off, my voice cracking. "I didn’t even see her. But they won’t believe me. They never do."

Stefan frowned, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "Of course they don’t. They have never treated you fairly, Isla."

I sighed with relief for the first time since last night. He saw the truth.

"But why is everyone saying that? Why don't you tell them where you were last night?" He insisted, furrowing his brows.

I was about to tell him the truth when my wolf advised me against revealing that I had successfully transformed even to Stefan. I wasn't sure why she would feel that way about Stefan, but I knew I had to trust her judgment. I felt a pang of guilt for not sharing this with him. But I couldn't tell him a lie either.

“I… I can’t explain everything right now,” I said, my voice trembling.

Stefan’s sigh was heavy with concern, his eyes narrowing as if he were trying to find some clue. I looked away, trying to avoid him. He was the only person who stood by me like a wall. Even if I can't tell him the truth, he doesn't deserve a lie.

“I get it. You must have your reasons since you can't even tell me." He said, the hurt in his voice was evident. But his gaze softened as he continued. "I believe in you, Isla. No matter what they say or do, I know you are not capable of this. You are not a killer.”

“But for now, we must go to the funeral. You can’t hide here or they will grow more suspicious and…” Stefan sighs, taking a deep breath.

I nodded, understanding what he meant. My mother’s words from earlier echoed in my head. I had to be a part of Elara’s funeral. And once this is over, I will leave.

I finally broke down into tears, the tears I had been trying to control since last night. His presence brought some peace, a flicker of hope, like always. I wasn't entirely alone.

Together, we left to join others at Elara’s funeral.