Chapter 4

LEXA POINT OF VIEW

My fingers bled as I pushed the last white rose into place. Three hours spent arranging flowers for the territory gathering, my back screaming in protest. It had to be perfect. Everything had to be perfect.

"They're just flowers. No one will even notice."

Damian's voice made me jump. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching me with cold eyes.

"I notice," I said, straightening. "And your mother will tear me apart if anything's wrong."

He shrugged. "Why bother? Mother will find fault no matter what you do."

His words cut because they were true. Still, I had to try.

Damian walked around the table, studying my work. "Sara would have used blue flowers. They match the pack colors better."

Always Sara. Every breath, every moment circled back to my half-sister. Sara who was better. Sara who was wanted.

"The flower seller had no blue ones," I said, swallowing hard.

"Did you?" Doubt dripped from his words. "Or did you simply not try hard enough?"

I bit my tongue until I tasted blood.

"The Alpha and Luna symbols should be at the head table, not the side," he said, pointing to my arrangement.

"Your mother told me to put them there."

"Then why didn't you?"

I frowned. "I just said..."

"No, you didn't. These are at the side table."

Confusion hit me like a slap. Hadn't Linda specifically ordered me to place them at the side?

"But she said..."

Damian's laugh cut me off like a knife. "Amazing how you always blame others for your mistakes. Fix it before Mother sees."

As he turned to leave, understanding crashed over me. Linda had set me up to fail. Again.

"Wait. Your mother told me the side table specifically. She's trying to make me look bad."

Damian spun back, eyes flashing with hate. "Enough! My mother welcomed you despite what you did to Sara. She gives you simple tasks a child could do. And still you whine and point fingers."

"That's not what I'm...."

"Move the arrangements. And stop making excuses."

He stalked out, leaving me alone with twenty heavy centerpieces to move before guests arrived in an hour.

As I lifted the first arrangement, a memory hit me like a blow.

** **

*I stood in the kitchen at ten, flour coating my hands as I decorated Sara's birthday cake. Father walked in, frowning at my work.*

*"This won't do. I ordered a professional cake."*

*"But... I spent all morning..."*

*"Sara deserves the best. Clean this up before she sees it."*

*Later, I watched Sara blow out candles on a perfect bakery cake. Father beamed, his arm around his golden daughter.*

*"Nothing but the best for my princess."*

*I slipped away, invisible. In the kitchen, I ate a slice of my rejected cake alone in the dark, tasting salt from tears I couldn't stop.*

* ***

An hour later, every muscle on fire, I placed the final centerpiece on the head table. Maybe Linda would finally see my worth.

"What have you done?"

Linda stood in the doorway, face twisted with disgust.

"I moved the arrangements to the head table," I explained. "Damian said they should be here."

Linda's eyes narrowed. "I specifically told you to place them at the side tables."

"But Damian said..."

"Are you calling me a liar?" Linda stepped closer. "First you try to kill my future daughter-in-law, and now you call me a liar in my own home?"

My chest tightened. "No, I just thought..."

"Your thinking is what causes problems." Linda circled the tables. "Look at this, the roses are already dying. Did you even cut the stems right?"

They weren't dying. I had checked each bloom carefully. But arguing would only make things worse.

"I'll replace any bad ones."

Linda sniffed. "There's no time. And you're not even dressed properly. Go change into something decent if you insist on being seen."

"I made this dress specially..."

"Now, Lexa."

Another memory crashed over me as I hurried away.

*** **

*At twelve, I stood in Father's study doorway, clutching my straight-A report card.*

*Inside, Sara showed Father her mostly B report. "Look at my history grade. The teacher said I have natural talent."*

*Father beamed. "That's my girl. Smart as your mother was."*

*I stepped forward. "Father? I got my grades too."*

*He glanced up, smile fading. "Leave it on the desk. I'll look later."*

*"But I got all..."*

*"I said later, Lexa. Sara and I are talking."*

*That night, I found my report in the trash, unread.*

****

I changed into my only good dress, a plain blue thing that would earn more of Linda's scorn.

Damian entered, already dressed in his formal pack clothes. "That's what you're wearing?"

"It's all I have."

"Whatever. Just don't embarrass me in front of the visiting packs."

The gathering passed in a blur of fake smiles and whispers. I stood beside Damian like a statue, speaking only when forced to.

"Such a shame about your sister," one visiting Beta said. "Any change in her condition?"

"None yet."

"Such a tragedy. Accidents can be so... unexpected."

Damian stiffened. "It wasn't an accident."

The woman's eyes lit up with delight. "Oh? How awful!"

My face burned with shame. Every conversation became another chance for everyone to see me as the monster who hurt Sara.

During dinner, I tried once more to earn approval by helping serve the elders. As I offered bread to an elderly Alpha, Damian grabbed my wrist.

"Stop hovering," he hissed. "You're making everyone uncomfortable."

"I'm just trying to help."

"Well, don't. Sit down and shut up. That would help the most."

I retreated to my seat as another memory surfaced.

*** **

*At fifteen, I stood in the shadows of a pack celebration, watching Sara dance with young males. Father looked on with pride as Damian asked Sara to dance.*

*"They make a perfect pair," a pack elder said to Father. "The Beta's daughter and the Alpha's son."*

*Father nodded. "Sara was born for this role. She has her mother's grace."*

*"And your other daughter?"*

*Father's face hardened. "Lexa takes after my side. More... practical."*

*Later, when I asked to join the dancing, Father shook his head. "Someone needs to help in the kitchen."*

*So while Sara danced with the future Alpha, I washed dishes in a back room, listening to music and laughter I couldn't join.*

*** **

The gathering finally ended near midnight. As the last guests left, I began gathering empty glasses.

"Leave that," Linda ordered. "The servers will handle it."

"I don't mind helping."

"I said leave it. Haven't you done enough damage for one night?"

I froze. "Damage? What did I do wrong?"

Linda laughed, a sound like shattering glass. "What didn't you? The flowers were a disaster. Your dress looked like a servant's. You hovered around guests like a beggar."

"The Alpha from the Northern Pack asked if my son had lost a bet, ending up with you instead of Sara." Her smile twisted with cruelty. "I had no good answer."

"The flowers were beautiful," I said quietly. "Three different guests told me so."

"Pity compliments. Go home, Lexa. You've embarrassed us enough."

The walk back to the cabin felt endless. Inside, I collapsed onto the couch, my bed since the wedding night.

Every attempt to belong, to help, to earn even a scrap of kindness, had been thrown back in my face like garbage.

The door opened and Damian entered.

"Your mother thinks I ruined everything," I said, too tired to care.

Damian stood silent for a moment. "The flowers looked good."

The unexpected almost-compliment stunned me speechless.

"Don't look so shocked," he muttered. "I can recognize when something's done right."

"Thank you for saying that."

Damian paused at the bedroom door. "It changes nothing between us."

"I know."

After he left, I stared at the ceiling, a strange calm settling over me. I'd tried so hard today, worked until my body screamed in pain, smiled through cruel words, endured one humiliation after another. Just as I had my entire life. Always begging for scraps of love, approval, acceptance.

Always going hungry.

Something shifted inside me then, something deep and final. A lifetime of starving for love had left me hollow. Perhaps it was time to feed myself with something else.

As sleep pulled me under, Sara's face floated in my mind, perfect, golden Sara who had everything I'd ever wanted without even trying. Sara, who even unconscious commanded love and loyalty I would never know.

For the first time, I let myself feel something beyond hurt and longing.

Pure, burning rage.

The emotion blazed through my chest, unfamiliar but warming my frozen soul. I didn't push it away.

I welcomed it like an old friend.