Chapter 9
811words
Her personal terminal chimed. Lady Dracott.
Her mother's voice—that familiar blend of false gentleness—came through without any mention of the ceremony incident. Just a request to "come home" to discuss "something important."
Genevieve's lips curled into a cold smile. She knew exactly what this "important matter" entailed—smoothing the path for Seraphina's return while scolding her for causing a scene.
Fine. Time to settle old scores, one by one.
The hover car stopped at a magic plant boutique catering to elite werewolves. Going back empty-handed wouldn't be very "polite."
Genevieve entered the lavish shop, ignoring the shopkeeper's recommendations of Dragon Blood Orchids and Phoenix Flowers costing thousands. She headed straight for a corner where fresh Moonlight Berries sat in baskets—ten silver coins a bag. Exactly what Lady Dracott despised most as "commoner food."
Perfect.
As she reached for the berries, a familiar chuckle—tinged with amusement—came from behind.
That laugh cut through years of thorny memories, striking something deep within her heart.
Genevieve froze.
She turned slowly, almost reverently.
An Alpha sat nearby in an ornate crystal wheelchair. He wore an impeccably tailored dark suit, his demeanor calm yet powerful, perfectly at home in the luxurious setting. His eyes—warm and gentle even under harsh indoor lighting—watched her with a smile.
His face was both familiar and strange. More mature than in her memory, the awkwardness of youth replaced by sharp definition, yet still unmistakably him.
It was him.
How could it possibly be him?
"You've… mistaken me for someone else," Genevieve managed, her voice suddenly hoarse.
His smile deepened. He guided his wheelchair closer as Genevieve's gaze involuntarily dropped to his legs. Even through the expensive fabric, she could make out a massive scar on his left knee—like the claw mark of some savage beast.
A scar earned protecting her.
"Is that so?" He stopped before her, tilting his head slightly, his gentle gaze enveloping her. "But I remember a little wildcat who loved sneaking out to pick these tart berries on full moon nights."
He paused, his tone softening to something tender and intimate:
"My little wildcat."
In that moment, her carefully constructed armor cracked. For the first time in years, Genevieve's eyes filled with tears.
"Alan."
After exchanging encrypted contact information and arranging lunch for the next day, Genevieve returned to her hover car and headed for Dracott Manor.
Her spirits soared higher than they had in years. A ray of genuine warmth had finally penetrated the frozen wasteland of her past. With this newfound lightness, she approached her meeting with her "parents" like a bored spectator attending a predictable comedy.
Entering the familiar living room, Genevieve's eyes immediately found the enormous family portrait. Lord Dracott stood with dignity, Lady Dracott sat with grace, and "perfect" Seraphina nestled beside her mother like an angel.
A family of three, perfectly happy.
As if they'd never had another daughter.
"Genevieve, you're here." Lady Dracott rose from the sofa with her well-rehearsed smile. "We heard about the ceremony. Damian went too far with that 'compensation' business. You were wronged."
"Really?" Genevieve tossed the cheap paper bag of moonlight berries onto the table with a soft thud. "I thought your first concern would be for precious Damian's bruised ego."
Lady Dracott's smile froze. The Baron nearby let out a heavy snort.
"Your sister returns soon." Lady Dracott cut to the chase. "You know, between her and Damian there's… We hope you might…"
"Step aside for her?" Genevieve interrupted, picking up a rotting moonberry and rolling it between her fingers. "Mother, do you hear yourself? Asking the younger sister to surrender her man to the elder?"
With precise aim, she flicked the rotten berry onto her mother's pristine white silk gown, leaving an ugly purple stain.
"You—!" Lady Dracott shrieked.
"Insolent!" Lord Dracott slammed his fist on the table as he rose, his face flushed with rage. "He was always meant for your sister! You ungrateful creature! How could our bloodline produce such filth! I hereby cast you out from the Dracott family!"
This was exactly what Genevieve had been waiting for.
The playful smile vanished from her face, replaced by cool, businesslike calculation. She pounced on the opportunity.
"Perfect."
She stood, meeting her father's furious gaze with icy calm. Her voice wasn't loud, but it silenced the room completely.
"Give me the deeds to three magic crystal mines. I'll make a Blood Oath severing all ties with the Dracott family. All grievances settled, once and for all."
She paused, then added deliberately:
"Three mines in exchange for Seraphina's smooth return without public scandal. A fair price, I think."
Then Genevieve's tone shifted to a mocking laugh: "Or would Father prefer the clan witness two sisters fighting over one man? Such delicious gossip that would make."
