Hazel’s POV
I didn’t waste a single second.
The moment Caspian disappeared from sight, I spun around and bolted to my room. My bare feet thudded softly against the wooden floor, and my breath came in shallow gasps. My hand shook as I grabbed the doorknob, and the second I crossed the threshold, I slammed the door shut behind me.
He saw me.
Beta Caspian. The second most powerful man in the Blue Moon pack. The second of the Triplets. The same man who was supposed to mate with my sister.
Saw me—the disgrace. The shame. The bruised, pathetic girl cowering at the top of the stairs in a torn nightgown and a haunted expression.
What if he tells my father?
What if Father storms up here, drags me downstairs by the hair, and finishes what he started whipping me raw right in front of Caspian?
My stomach twisted at the thought. My hands curled tightly around my gown, fingers digging into the fabric until my knuckles turned white. It was a habit I’d formed over the years clutching my dress to ground myself, to stop my body from shaking. A way to stop myself from breaking.
A skill born from survival.
Then I heard it.
An engine. Rumbling outside.
I gasped and ran to the window, heart pounding in my ears. I pushed the curtain aside and peered through the cracked glass.
There he was.
Beta Caspian stood by the car, impossibly tall and devastatingly poised. His driver had already started the engine. Sophia was clinging to him like a leech in silk, and before he could get into the vehicle, she leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheek.
My stomach churned.
Ugh. Seriously?
He didn’t flinch or push her away, but he didn’t smile either. Caspian turned to shake hands with my father, expression unreadable. But then... his gaze drifted upward—straight to my window.
And our eyes met. Again.
I froze.
His piercing blue eyes softened for a heartbeat. His lips curved, not into a smirk of mockery, but into something gentler... amused, maybe. Curious. Warm.
Then he turned and got into the car.
I stumbled back from the window like I’d been struck.
What... the hell... just happened?
He smiled at me?
He smiled at me?!
Why wasn’t he looking at me like I was filth? Like every other wolf in this damn house did? Why wasn’t he disgusted?
Maybe... maybe he didn’t realize it was me. Maybe he thought I was someone else. That’s the only explanation.
Still, my face burned as the car rolled down the long driveway and disappeared into the distance. I pressed my hand to my cheek and sighed before collapsing onto the worn-out bed in the corner of my room. The springs groaned in protest.
I grabbed the thin bedsheet and yanked it over my head, burying myself in the scratchy fabric as if it could hide the ridiculous blush on my face.
What’s wrong with me?
I should be crying. I should be angry. My father literally whipped me this morning. My body was still aching, my face still throbbing from where Natasha clawed at me. But instead of thinking about how close I was to breaking... I was thinking about the man who locked eyes with me for less than five seconds and sent my heart into a frenzy.
Damn it, Hazel.
The door creaked open.
I jolted upright and threw the sheet off me in one panicked motion. My father stood in the doorway, tall and silent as a shadow. I shot to my feet and bowed, keeping my head down, eyes to the floor.
Like he hadn’t just tried to kill me a few hours ago.
He ignored my greeting and spoke.
"You know the man that just came?"
I nodded once. "Beta Caspian."
He gave a stiff nod.
"He came to inform us about the coming-of-age ceremony for him and his brother. That’s where they’ll discover their mates—my daughters."
I felt my throat tighten.
"And that will be your last chance," he continued coldly. "The final opportunity to prove you’re a true-born Gilbert. To prove you deserve my love."
He said it so casually, like love was something that needed to be earned. Like it wasn’t something a father owed his child, but a trophy he dangled over their head.
I nodded again. A mechanical reaction. Like muscle memory.
"Because tomorrow, you turn eighteen. And if you don’t wolf out... if you don’t shift" he took a step closer, "that means you’re human."
His hand suddenly shot out and wrapped around my throat. He didn’t squeeze, but the threat was there.
"And if you’re human," he hissed, "you didn’t inherit any of my genes."
He leaned in close. "If that’s the case... I’ll kill you myself. And no one will stop me. Because you’ll be a disgrace. A stain on this family."
Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes, but I didn’t sob. I couldn’t. Crying never helped me. I kept my hands locked around the folds of my gown, trying to regulate my heartbeat.
Trying to survive this moment.
He let go, turned, and walked out.
I collapsed to the floor the second he disappeared.
Yes, he’d said awful things to me before. Yes, he’d beaten me. Starved me. Called me worthless. But this?
This hurt the most.
Because there was no metaphor. No subtlety.
He would kill me with his own hands.
I wiped my tears away roughly. "Don’t cry, Hazel," I whispered to myself. "Don’t you dare cry."
If I didn’t shift tomorrow, he’d follow through on that threat. And even if he didn’t, Sophia, Natasha, and Lilian would find another way. Because if they ended up as the mates of the Alpha’s sons, they’d be untouchable. They’d torture me for sport.
I looked around my tiny room. The cracked mirror. The peeling walls. The dented dresser with only two working drawers.
No. I wouldn’t die here.
I grabbed the small duffel bag under my bed the one they gave me to hold my meager belongings and started stuffing it with clothes. Torn shirts. Stretched-out sweaters. Hand-me-down dresses stained with years of resentment.
I threw in my toothbrush and the tiny jar of healing salve Ariel had smuggled to me.
I’ll run.
Maybe tonight. I’ll escape through the forest. I’ll make it to the border before dawn.
But... what if I’m not human?
What if tomorrow I do shift?
What if there’s a wolf buried deep inside me, just waiting for the right moment to wake up?
My eyes have never shone. I don’t have a scent. Even newborn wolves have a scent. That’s how they’re identified.
I have nothing.
No scent. No aura. No wolf.
Just fear. And a stupid, stubborn spark of hope.
But even if I have nothing now, tomorrow could change everything.
I pulled the bag close and sat by the window, staring out at the moonlight as it flooded the trees.
Please let tomorrow be different.