CHAPTER 25
1588 Words
The Everglade estate was located at the far end of the northern territory, hidden behind tall iron gates and pine trees that looked more like guards than part of the scenery.
The house was stunning; you’d only have that thought only if you liked things that felt cold and lifeless.
It had stone floors, huge glass windows, and a silence so heavy it almost felt like it could choke you.
The whole house was in black and white, hence, it had no life in it.
There was no laughter, no warmth, just pressure and quietness hanging in the air.
It was like there was even no birds or singing insects around.
The whole place was dead silent.
Becky Everglade stood in front of the grand mirror in her room, brushing her hair with slow, controlled strokes.
Becky’s room was the only one which had color, painted and designed in pink.
She had done this herself of course, after her father had given her the permission to do so after years of begging.
Her father had allowed her as a reward after she’d stabbed Aisha palm with a pencil back in Elementary school.
He’d patted her back and told her she was a true Everglade for putting the low grade wolf in her place.
Becky’s reflection stared back at her with a kind of ruthlessness.
The bruises had faded from her neck, and the cuts in her cheeks were gone.
But the storm in her eyes? That remained.
She hadn’t come back here willingly.
The moment the Council was done with their inspection, her father’s guards had arrived at the infirmary to “escort” her home.
No one had asked her if she was ready to leave.
No one ever did.
A knock came at her door, sharp and impatient, very close to the sound of banging.
She rolled her eyes. “Come in”.
The door opened to reveal her mother, dressed in a long gray dress that matched the color of the sky outside.
Tasha Everglade didn’t smile.
She never did.
Her mouth always looked like it was holding in something bitter.
Her face was always rumpled up and her jaw tight.
“You’ve had enough time to recover,” Tasha said without even anything to signify a greeting.
There was no sign of care even though Becky had almost died and had to stay at the Whitemoon packhouse for a long time.
Well, she never cared to even visit her, so there was no use acting like she missed her.
“Your father wants to speak with you”. She said while searching the room with her eyes.
Becky didn’t move. “Then he knows where my room is.”
“Don’t test him, Rebecca”. Her mother’s tone was ice.
Becky stood, setting the brush down. “Fine.”
“And it’s Becky”. She said, folding her arms.
Tasha just rolled her eyes and headed out.
She followed her mother through the long corridor, past the ancestral portraits that lined the walls, each one more severe than the last.
The Everglades came from a long line of councilmen, warriors, and manipulators.
Power ran in their blood like poison in a river, and Becky had been raised to swim in it.
When they reached her father’s study, the door was already open.
Roland Everglade sat behind a mahogany desk that gleamed with polish.
Papers were stacked in huge piles.
A decanter of bloodwine sat untouched beside a silver clock.
He didn’t lift his head when Becky entered.
“Close the door,” he said.
She did.
“Sit.”
She did that too.
Finally, he looked up.
His eyes were bloodshot and looked stabbing like a knife.
“I’ve received word from Elder Kion,” he began. “And from three different Council members.”
Becky said nothing.
“They’re concerned about Elise Thorne.”
A twitch of a smile nearly curved Becky’s lips. “She’s very… concerning.”
Roland wasn’t amused. “This isn’t a joke. Do you have any idea the level of instability she represents?”
Becky’s voice stayed light, almost bored. “She saved my life.”
“She humiliated this entire pack.
She broke a Council ward.
She turned into something we still don’t fully understand.” He leaned forward. “And you were there. You heard everything.”
“I did,” Becky said. “And I saw the way everyone looked at her afterward. Like she’d become a god or a ghost.”
Roland narrowed his eyes. “You are not to align yourself with her.”
Becky’s jaw twitched. “And if I already have?”
Her father stood, his power crackling in the air like static. “You will not embarrass this family with foolish allegiances.”
“Allegiances?” Becky stood too. “You mean survival?”
“You mean opportunism!” he snapped. “The kind that makes you weak.”
Her mother’s voice came sharp from the doorway. “We don’t attach ourselves to unstable creatures, Rebecca. We eliminate them.”
Becky looked between them, hatred bubbling beneath her skin.
They always saw her as less.
As a liability.
She had trained harder than any of the boys her age, memorized every law, every tactic.
But she wasn’t her older brother, Evan, the golden son who had died two years ago during a rogue ambush.
The day he died, Becky stopped being a daughter and started being a reminder of failure, and Luka was just there, no one showed concern to him whatsoever.
“You sent me to the infirmary like I was some fallen soldier,” she said quietly. “Like I didn’t matter.”
“You didn’t,” Roland said, calm as ever.
“Until you returned with leverage.”
Becky froze, heart shattering to pieces.
She wasn’t surprised as that wasn’t the first time she was hearing that, but it always left her broken each time she did.
That was what she was to them.
Not a daughter.
Not even a soldier.
Just a weapon that had stumbled into proximity to something dangerous.
“You will return to the packhouse,” her father continued, as if he hadn’t just gutted her.
“Keep tabs on Elise. Make yourself useful. If she begins to lose control, report it immediately. If she steps out of line—”
“Should I kill her?” Becky asked flatly.
Roland ’s expression didn’t change. “You’re not strong enough.”
The words slapped harder than any strike could.
Becky clenched her fists. “But I’m disposable enough, right?”
Her mother gave her a look. “You are loyal enough.”
Becky swallowed her scream.
Later that evening, she stood in the empty garden behind the house, her breath mixing with the cold air.
The moon was rising again, fat and white in the sky.
She hated it.
Hated how it reminded her of Elise’s glowing skin, the moonlight dancing on her fingers like it had chosen her.
The wind rustled the trees, and Becky turned at the sound of footsteps.
Her younger sister, Ivy, approached—only fifteen, still wide-eyed and not yet chewed up by the world their parents ruled.
“I heard them yelling,” Ivy said quietly.
“Are you okay?”
Becky turned away. “Go inside.”
“I don’t want to.”
Becky sighed, but didn’t argue.
Ivy was the only person in the world she didn’t want to hurt.
The only one who looked at her without fear or judgment.
“She’s powerful, isn’t she?” Ivy asked.
“Elise?” Becky scoffed. “She’s a walking disaster.”
“But… you’re scared of her.”
Becky turned sharply. “I’m not scared of her, she scoffed, I used to bully that b***h yunno?…I’m only scared of what she means.”
Ivy looked confused.
“She’s proof,” Becky continued bitterly.
“Proof that everything we’ve been taught to believe is crap. That power doesn’t come from birthright or bloodlines.
That someone like her; someone discarded can become something no one understands.”
Ivy stared at her. “Then why do you want to stand beside her?”
Becky knelt down, brushing a strand of hair behind her sister’s ear.
“Because people like Elise break the rules,” she whispered. “And when the world breaks with them, you either adapt… or you burn.”
Ivy’s face darkened. “I don’t want you to burn.”
Becky stood again, a cold smile tugging at her lips. “Then stay out of my way.”
Back at the packhouse, Elise was training again.
She moved through the drills with a quiet, determined focus. Her limbs still ached, but her mind was clear.
Lucien watched from the edge of the field, arms crossed, nodding with approval.
“You’re pushing harder,” he said.
“I have to,” Elise replied. “There’s no room to break now.”
He didn’t argue.
She could feel something building inside her again—energy twisting in her core, aching to be released.
But this time, she wasn’t afraid. She was preparing.
The world was shifting.
Enemies weren’t just cloaked figures in the woods anymore.
Sometimes they came with familiar faces.
Beautiful lies.
And perfectly rehearsed smiles.
Elise exhaled, drawing in the moonlight like a promise.
She wasn’t the girl who begged to belong anymore.
She was the girl they were going to have to survive.
- Writer
