She was Celestine Voss, the daughter of a broken rogue wolf-Carden Voss, a drunkard, gambler, and woman-beater, who also happened to be a master at hiding his corruption behind a mask of civility.
For years, Celestine believed all fathers were like him.
Her mother, proud and stubborn, refused to ask for help from her kin or let the pack see how low she’d fallen. The two of them lived among rogues and half-bloods in the outskirts-isolated, surviving on scraps.
The pups around her called her “trash-born” and “mud wolf.”
She bit back by calling them “strays without a den.”
Their lives were nothing but tooth for tooth, claw for claw.
Then one day, she met Aysel Vale-her little cousin from the Moonvale Pack.
The girl wore a floral dress and smelled of lilies and Alpha bloodline purity. Her golden aura was so clean it hurt to look at.
In that moment, Celestine realized there were wolves who lived under sunlight, not under shadows.
Aysel had it all: parents who adored her, brothers who doted on her, a home filled with warmth and laughter. She was carefree-so bright it was infuriating.
The first time they met, Celestine hadn’t even dared to touch her, afraid her dirty hands might stain the fine fabric.
But Aysel didn’t care. She pounced forward with a giggle, hugging her tightly and sharing candies and toys Celestine had never seen in her life.
Celestine hated her.
Aysel’s light made her darkness unbearable.
And then, her mother began to change. Yuna grew quieter, more somber. Celestine overheard whispers, words soaked with bitterness.
Her mother told her once, with shaking voice,
“The life Aysel has should have been yours.”
Alpha Remus Vale, Aysel’s father, was supposed to be Yuna’s mate. But he’d betrayed her, choosing her younger sister, Luna Evelyn, instead.
Heartbroken and deceived, Yuna had fallen straight into Carden’s claws.
“If it weren’t for that twist of fate,” Yuna said, “you’d be Alpha Remus’s daughter. You’d live like a princess in Moonvale.”
Celestine was too young to understand what that meant-until the night Carden came home drunk again. He lashed out, fists flying, fangs flashing. Her mother shielded her, taking blow after blow, until blood covered the walls.
In the chaos, Yuna pushed her daughter out the door.
“Run to Moonvale!” she ordered. “Go to your aunt-they’ll help!”
Celestine staggered through the storm, half-conscious, until she reached the grand gates of the Moonvale Pack. Through the silver rain, she saw Alpha Remus and Luna Evelyn standing under the porch, calling their pups home.
Fenrir and Lykos were laughing as they tried to cheer up a sulking little Aysel, who was angry because her brother had picked her moonflower.
Celestine stood there, soaked in blood, head throbbing, watching a family whole and radiant.
And Aysel-so clean, so loved-was crying over a flower.
How absurd.
She had crawled out of a pit of pain, and yet her cousin wept over something so small.
That day, jealousy took root in her bones like frost.
When Luna Evelyn and Alpha Remus saw her, their smiles froze. Even though they hadn’t meant harm to Yuna, guilt still clawed at them. They acted fast-tore Carden from her life, cast him into the rogues’ prison, and sent Yuna enough silver to rebuild.
When Yuna returned to her mother’s den, the first thing she did was strip Celestine of her father’s name.
She became Celestine Ward.
A declaration to the world-Yuna’s daughter, not his.
Life grew easier after that.
Back in the Ward family’s care, she no longer feared hunger or beatings. She and her mother often visited the Moonvale Pack again.
Celestine told her mother once that she hated those visits, hated how small she felt beside Aysel’s brilliance.
Her mother only stroked her hair and whispered,
“What your cousin has, you’ll have too. What she took from me, I’ll take back for you.”
Not long before her death, Yuna’s eyes had changed.
Her voice turned strange, filled with a calm that felt like farewell.
She would murmur to herself under the moonlight,
“My daughter will live better than hers. What Moonvale owes me will be repaid-one way or another.”
Celestine never doubted her mother’s love.
Yuna Ward had given everything-her blood, her sanity, her life-for her daughter.
And now, standing before her mother’s grave in the endless rain, Celestine’s voice trembled, low and almost reverent.
“I used to envy you, Aysel,” she said again.
“But now I wonder-if you’d lived my life, would you still be able to shine?”
Third Person’s POV
Rain veiled the mountains like a mourning shroud.
“Do you think,” Celestine murmured, her lips curving, “that I stole your home?”
Her voice was smooth, silken, the kind that hid barbs. “But it was mine all along. I simply reclaimed what should have been mine by birthright.”
Aysel’s wolf stirred beneath her skin, silver eyes flickering with light. “What do you mean?” she asked quietly, though the growl beneath her words betrayed her restraint.
Celestine did not answer at once. Instead, she looked toward the road where the Moonvale brothers-Fenrir and Lykos-were climbing the slope to meet them, rain pouring off their shoulders like molten steel.
“Same blood,” Celestine continued softly. “But our mothers’ fates were worlds apart. And that difference will only grow wider with time.” Her lips curved, serene and cruel. “You’re lucky, Aysel. Even at the end, Grandmother still favored you.”
Her gaze sharpened, voice dropping into a whisper laced with venom. “Do you know what her last words were before she died?”
Aysel’s heart thudded once. The air tightened.
Celestine smiled through the rain, baring her teeth. “She said-‘Save me.’”
The words landed like a strike. Aysel’s vision flared red. In the downpour’s roar, her control snapped. She lunged, claws flashing pale through the rain, fingers closing around Celestine’s throat.
“You killed her,” she hissed.
Celestine choked for air, yet laughter bubbled between her gasps. “Killed her? No, Aysel. I merely didn’t save her. Why should I have? She shielded you, not me. Always you.” Her lips trembled into a snarl. “It’s your fault she died. If you hadn’t clung to her, depended on her, she wouldn’t have burned herself out protecting you!”
Aysel’s eyes burned silver, the mark of her bloodline flaring along her wrists. “She loved you too. When our parents returned to Moonvale, it was Grandmother who stood between us and that monster, Carden Voss. You were never the unloved one-“
Celestine spat a bitter laugh. “That’s your delusion. From the day I changed my name, I swore the world would never treat you and me differently again.”
Her breath came in ragged bursts. Aysel’s grip tightened, rain mixing with tears on both their faces.
Then-“Aysel!”
Lykos’s shout cut through the storm. In an instant, he shoved his real sister back. Aysel’s body struck the marble edge of Yuna Ward’s grave. Pain splintered through her spine, but she didn’t cry out.
Fenrir caught Celestine as she sagged, cradling her limp form. Without a glance toward Aysel, he gathered her into his arms and strode down the slope toward the waiting cars.
Lykos hesitated at the ridge, torn between bloodlines. The rain lashed harder, stinging his eyes. After a breath, he turned-shielding Fenrir and Celestine with his umbrella as they disappeared into the downpour, his own back soaked through.
From Fenrir’s arms, a flicker of motion-Celestine looked over Fenrir’s shoulder. Through the veil of rain, she saw Aysel standing alone among the graves, drenched and shaking, her hair matted to her skin like a forgotten ghost of the Vale line.
For one strange moment, Celestine felt as though the world had inverted-she, the once-shadowed girl, was now the chosen one.
Mother, you’d be proud, she thought faintly, and smiled without sound.
Below, at the gates of Moonvale.
Luna Evelyn hurried forward as Fenrir and Lykos approached, Celestine limp in Fenrir’s arms.
“Where’s Aysel?” she demanded.
Fenrir’s voice was ice. “Leave her. She needs to reflect.”
Luna hesitated. But Celestine’s soft groan pulled her attention-pain, faint but deliberate. She steeled herself. “Then let’s go. To the healer.”
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