I grabbed what was left of my moon-silver dress, ripped and useless, and tore it away from my body.
Gasps erupted instantly.
My undergarments clung to my body, but what truly caught their eyes were the lash scars painting my back and legs like a grotesque mural.
The hall swelled with murmurs.
“Oh moon goddess, what happened to her?”
“Those marks aren’t from any normal punishment.”
“Was she tortured?”
The cameras clicked and flashed, capturing my pain as if it were a spectacle.
My stare was fixed like steel on Johan and Suzette. “Remember this day, you paraded me as a criminal.”
Then I released my mirrorstone.
It dropped to the marble floor with a sharp clack, and in the blink of an eye, it flashed, glowing with a blinding light.
Everyone froze, eyes wide, jaws slack.
The light flickered once, then projected a massive moving image into the air, followed by a video playback.
The whole room fell quiet, eyes glued to the air as the truth played out in front of them, undeniable and clear.
Jessica’s POV
The video played, and in an instant, I was no longer standing in a ballroom, I was back in that cold, dark dungeon. It was like I was being crushed all over again.
I hated that I had to see this again.
My wolf whimpered deep inside me as my tears pricked the edges of my vision.
On screen, Suzette dragged my younger self by the hair across the damp stone floor of the Alpha’s dungeon, my heels scraping, my wrists bound in wolfsbane-laced silver.
She didn’t say a word, and just slammed my head into the sharp corner of a chained collaring post, once, twice, until the world spun.
Blood splattered onto the iron, dripping like ink from a shattered pen. I tasted metal, and a piercing ring filled my ears, muting everything except my shallow, ragged breaths and Suzette’s gleeful laugh.
“You’re the bad luck that cursed our family! You should’ve died with your mother, so my father would’ve only seen me and Mom! Now that he’s gone, I have no reason to fake kindness anymore!”
She yanked my hair again and slammed my head once more against the iron bars, over and over, until I dropped like a sack of bones, dazed and wrecked.
My back, already flayed from the wolfsbane-laced whip, had turned into one seeping wound. But she didn’t care. The whip rose again.
“Go to hell!”
“AHHH!”
My cries morphed into a growl, my canines flashing briefly. My wolf surged, clawing at my insides, trying to surface, her rage mirroring mine.
My limbs trembled violently as I tried to shift, to defend myself. I was seconds away from letting her take over.
But then…
Suzette, sneering, approached with gloved hands and sprinkled mountain ash over my ruined back.
My wolf yelped and recoiled, retreating into the depths of my soul, her fury snuffed out like a flame doused in snow.
Then Lydia entered, not looking alarmed.
Even though I knew she didn’t care for me, I still dragged myself toward her,
“Mother, please… please stop her,” I begged, crawling closer despite the fire ripping through my body. “I’ve always tried to be a good daughter. I did everything to make you and the Pack proud. I obeyed every rule, followed every command just to earn your approval. Why are you letting her do this to me? Why are you letting your own daughter tear me apart?”
Blood blurred my vision. My tears mixed with it. But Lydia didn’t even blink.
Without warning, Lydia kicked me hard in the stomach, sending me sprawling back onto the cold stone floor.
“If it weren’t for you, our true daughter wouldn’t have suffered all those years. Let Suzette have her way. If you really love us, prove it in silence.”
She turned and smiled at Suzette, her tone clipped. “Don’t let yourself be heavily stained,” she added with a dismissive flick of her wrist. “We have a pack gathering to attend to.” Suzette dropped the whip with a sneer. “Fine. I’ll finish her later.”
She turned to the guards circling me and sneered, “Bring more mountain ash.”
I barely lifted my hand, reaching for the hem of her dress, but Suzette drove her heel into my forehead, the blunt impact making my skull throb.
Before I could recover, she struck again, harder this time, straight into my abdomen. A nauseating jolt exploded through my gut as bile surged up my throat.
“No, please. Don’t…” I gasped.
Suzatte glared at the warriors. “What are you all waiting for? The mountain ash!”
They all pinned me. The guards dumped the ashes on my shredded back.
My scream ripped through the projection.
Gasps filled the room.
I looked up just in time to see Johan reel backward, his fists clenching so tightly his knuckles turned white. His shoulders trembled, not with rage, but disbelief.
He had once dressed those wounds, tracing every scar with care, whispering comfort. But now he knew the truth.
He staggered back from Suzette like she’d burned him. “You did this? It was you all along?”
“That video isn’t real! It’s all staged!” Suzette cried out. “There were never any cameras in that dungeon!”
I laughed, sharp, bitter.
“Cameras are nothing compared to the moon mirrorstone. Maybe it was given to me for a reason, so it could protect me when no one else would.”
Lydia glared at me. “Jessica, I raised you like my own daughter, even after your mother betrayed me and had an affair with my husband. I chose to keep you, love you, even when the whole Pack whispered behind my back. And this is how you repay me? By humiliating our family in front of the entire kingdom?”
Suzette gripped her mother’s hand, as she leaned closer. “Please remain calm, Mother. Please relax, don’t take this so much to heart.”
I dug my nails deep into my palms, trying to anchor myself to the present.
How could they still deny it? After everything they’d done, even with the truth staring them in the face, they twisted it as if it was a bent metal.
Then…
A tall figure emerged from the double glass door. A scar traced his cheek.
His gaze landed on me. My shoulders, my scars. His throat bobbed.
“Who are you?” Johan demanded.
Johan’s POV
The man in the black suit didn’t belong here.
I knew every face in Vale Pack and most of the visiting alphas by scent alone.
While this man carried winter and iron.
Lydia stiffened the moment she saw him. She had never seen him on Halloway land either, and the killing intent rolling off him made her swallow hard.
He didn’t flinch when I met his eyes.
“You don’t need my name,” he said in a calm voice. “What matters is whether Jessica was abused.”
The hall’s noise died.
Heads turned from me to her. The screens behind the stage went dark and waiting.
The side doors opened.
Lydia’s butler stepped in, tall and gray at the temples, posture straight as a blade. Suzette actually stumbled when she saw him.
“What are you doing here?” she snapped. “Did we tell you to attend? Or did you come to bite the hand that pays you and feeds your family?”
The words hit wrong. Suzette hadn’t talked like that to anyone before.
The old man bowed once, as if her insults were nothing. “Luna Suzette, you threatened my daughter to keep me silent. Ten years ago I saw you whip Jessica in the Halloway dungeon. I swear on my life the footage is real. After her identity was exposed, she asked to leave. You and Madam Lydia locked her below to punish her. If she hadn’t escaped, she would be dead.”
“Liar,” Suzette spat. “You were always soft on her. Maybe you were sleeping with her. That’s why you’re here inventing stories.”
I looked at Jessica who was shaking her head, a dry, bitter laugh slipping out. Could she do that? No…
Before Suzette could spiral, Lydia caught her, palm over Suzette’s mouth, dragging her back a step from me. She seemed to know her daughter’s temper would make a bonfire out of oil.
The butler’s hands shook. His jaw clenched. No words came.
The man in the suit laughed once. It was cold. “Madam Lydia, your daughter talks creatively. But let’s see if the house talks better.”
He snapped his fingers.
The main screen, meant to showcase my products, bloomed to life with new clips of routine surveillance from the Halloway manor.
The kitchen first. Copper pots, a long oak island, staff moving like ghosts. Lydia poured tea while Suzette paced.
“Keep her downstairs,” Suzette said. “I don’t want her seen when Father’s guests arrive.”
The frame cut to the glass sunroom. White orchids. Bookcases. Late afternoon light. Lydia lowered her voice. “Your father must not hear any of this. He loves you, yes, but he loves his other daughter. Do not push him to choose. If a servant talks, I will take their tongue.”
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