I laughed, sharp, bitter, and painful.
Behave.
Gwyneth sniffed softly, pretending to be innocent.
“Gareth, you’re my sister’s warrior and friend. Please help me. I only want Freya to come downstairs. Everyone is talking…”
I turned away.
If I looked at either of them any longer, I would tear the whole room apart.
“Fine. Get out. I’ll be there.”
My voice sounded dull, hollow. Because the only thing worse than breaking… was letting them see it.
The ballroom glittered in soft pink and gold, the walls covered in roses and glowing candles. Pack members laughed and chatted, the air thick with sweet perfume and wolf scents. Then I heard him.
My father.
Laughing loudly among high‑ranking Alphas and Betas.
“So, the Grey Wind Pack’s Alpha himself chased after my Gwyneth!” he boasted.
“Gareth, of all wolves. I always knew my daughter was special!”
Someone asked about me.
He didn’t hesitate.
“Freya?” he scoffed.
“A troublesome pup. Not like Gwyneth. She brings honor to the pack. Freya only brings problems and wants attention.”
I froze behind a marble column, hidden but listening. His words sliced through me like claws. Then Gwyneth’s voice rang out through the hall.
“Everyone!” she called sweetly.