Chapter7
1660 Words
Olivia’s POV
The accusation slammed into me harder than any blow.
I opened my eyes slowly, meeting his gaze. My throat hurt too much to speak at first. The air between us felt suffocating.
“I… didn’t…” My voice came out hoarse and broken.
But he didn’t listen.
“First you poisoned her, and now this?” he continued, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Do you hate her that much? Is that it? You won’t stop until she’s dead?!”
From the hallway, hurried footsteps approached—my parents, alarmed by the noise.
“What happened?!” my mother cried as she rushed in.
Her eyes landed on Evelyn first. She screamed and dropped to her knees beside her. “My baby—what happened to your head?!”
My father’s face darkened instantly. He looked from the broken vase… to Evelyn… and finally to me.
The judgment in his eyes was immediate. Absolute.
“You did this,” he said coldly.
I shook my head weakly, my fingers trembling at my sides. “No… she—”
Before I could finish, Evelyn let out a fragile sob, barely audible.
Lucas immediately turned back to her, his voice softening. “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe.”
My mother glared at me with pure hatred. “How could you be this vicious? She already defended you yesterday!”
My father’s jaw tightened. “If anything happens to her, I swear—”
The rest of his words blurred into the ringing in my ears.
I stood there, alone in the center of the room, surrounded by their accusations, their anger, their fear for Evelyn.
No one asked what happened.
No one noticed the bruises forming around my neck.
No one saw the way my hands were still shaking from being strangled.
Lucas lifted Evelyn carefully into his arms, holding her like she might break. As he carried her past me, his shoulder brushed mine.
He didn’t even look at me this time.
Like I wasn’t there at all.
Her gaze landed on me, and Mom slowly shook her head, disappointment written all over her face.
“Olivia,” she said, her voice trembling, “I’m so disappointed in you.”
Then she turned away from me as if I no longer existed and hurried after Lucas. “Lucas, be careful! Don’t hurt Evelyn—watch her head!” she called anxiously as she rushed out of the room.
Dad stayed behind.
He looked at me, his eyes cold—so cold it made my chest tighten. What surprised me most was that he didn’t yell. He didn’t roar in anger like he used to. He was calm. Too calm.
“You’ve disappointed me again, Olivia,” he said flatly. “I won’t believe you anymore. From this moment on… you are no longer my daughter.”
The words fell like a blade.
He stood up, paused for a second, then walked past me. A long, heavy sigh followed him out of the room.
I laughed.
A broken, hollow sound escaped my throat. Tears blurred my vision, but the pain in my chest was sharper than anything I had ever felt. It was as if something inside me was being torn apart, slowly, mercilessly.
Inside my mind, my wolf lay weak, her breathing shallow, her presence flickering.
I whispered to her, my voice trembling, “It won’t happen again… I’ll be free soon.”
No one will ever hurt me again.
—
The next morning, when I opened my eyes, the first thought that came to me was simple:
I could finally leave this world that never belonged to me.
There was nothing here I was attached to anymore.
My phone suddenly lit up. Evelyn.
She had sent a video.
I tapped it open.
In the hospital, Lucas was carefully wrapping gauze around her wrist, his movements gentle and patient. Dad stood beside the bed peeling an apple, cutting it into small pieces. Mom held a cup of warm water, bringing it to Evelyn’s lips.
They looked like a perfect family.
Warm. Caring. Loving.
Just… without me.
I felt nothing.
No jealousy. No anger. Not even sadness.
Just boredom.
A moment later, a message from Evelyn popped up.
“I told you before,” she wrote. “You can’t win against me. I get everything I want.”
I stared at the screen for a second, then typed back without thinking.
“You win.”
I didn’t wait for her reply. I muted the chat and set my phone aside.
Then I slowly got out of bed and began packing.
There wasn’t much to take. A few clothes. Some documents. My wallet. Things I owned were pitifully few—just like the place I held in this family.
If Mom and Dad didn’t need me anymore, then I wouldn’t stay.
Before leaving, I stood in the doorway of my room and looked around.
The flowers I had been growing since I was little still sat by the window, their leaves stretching toward the pale morning light. In the yard, the swing from my childhood was still there, swaying gently in the breeze. Looking at it, I could almost see my younger self laughing, remember how carefree and happy those days once were.
Every corner of this house carried a piece of my past.
My laughter. My tears. My desperate attempts to belong.
I reached out and gently touched the leaves of the flowers, then slowly lowered my hand.
“…Goodbye.”
I turned around and walked out, pulling my small suitcase behind me.
Each step felt lighter. Colder.
Final.
Just as I reached the front door and opened it—
It swung inward at the same time.
Mom and Dad stood there, supporting Evelyn between them. Lucas was on her other side, one arm carefully around her shoulders, his expression tense and protective.
I lowered my head instinctively, avoiding their eyes, and said nothing.
Mom noticed the suitcase first. Her brows knit together in confusion, then shock.
“Olivia?” she asked, staring at me. “Where are you going?”
I glanced at her, about to speak, but Mom cut me off before I could say a word.
“What now? Running away from home again?” she said sharply. “Go ahead. It’s not like you’ve ever treated this place as your home anyway.”
Her words were cold, effortless, as if she had said them a thousand times before.
I forced a faint smile and turned toward the door.
Just as I stepped forward, a hand suddenly gripped my arm.
“Olivia.”
Lucas.
“Today is your birthday,” he said, his voice low. I looked at him but said nothing. Still, he didn’t let go. “The ceremony tonight is set at the tribal hall. I’ll be waiting for you.”
Only then did his fingers loosen.
I didn’t reply. I just dragged my heavy steps forward, suitcase rolling behind me. I could feel every pair of eyes on my back.
“Olivia, stop.”
Dad’s voice.
I paused for a fraction of a second… then kept walking.
“Olivia,” he said again, more forcefully, “this is your last chance. If you walk out that door, don’t ever come back.”
His voice carried anger—yet beneath it, something unspoken, something almost like restraint.
I didn’t turn around.
Step by step, I disappeared from their sight.
—
By the time I reached the cemetery, the sky was gray and heavy.
Aria was already there.
She was crying so hard her shoulders shook. The moment she saw me, she ran forward and pulled me into a tight embrace, as if afraid I would vanish.
“Olivia… I won’t let you die like this,” she choked. “I swear, I’ll take back everything that belongs to you.”
I gently patted her shoulder.
“It’s okay,” I said softly. “It’s all over. I don’t care anymore.”
Aria signed the agreement on behalf of my family, her hand trembling as she wrote. After that, we stayed there for a long time, talking about everything we had lived through.
Sometimes we laughed so hard we couldn’t breathe.
Sometimes we clung to each other and cried until our eyes burned.
At the very end of my life… having her beside me felt like the last warmth I would ever know.
—
The phone began to ring.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
Relentless.
It rang for a long time before it was finally answered.
“Olivia, where are you?” Lucas’s voice came through, strained and impatient. “I’ve been waiting for two hours. All the guests are here.”
Silence met him.
Faint breathing.
Unsteady.
But no reply.
Then Mom’s voice cut in, irritated. “Olivia, have you had enough of this? The entire family is waiting. Don’t embarrass us in front of the tribe.”
Still nothing.
Only that quiet, uneven sound on the line.
Dad’s voice followed, cold and final. “Olivia. If you don’t show up within thirty minutes, I’ll have Evelyn take your place and form the bond with Lucas tonight. Since you don’t cherish your mate, don’t blame me for being ruthless.”
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then—
A laugh.
Low. Hoarse. Wrong.
It didn’t sound like the Olivia they knew.
It was rough, edged with fury and something close to grief, as though the voice had been dragged through broken glass.
“You… will never see your daughter again,” it rasped. “Because she’s already dead.”
The words hung in the air.
Lucas stopped breathing.
Mom gasped.
Dad’s voice finally broke through, sharp and shaking—
“What did you say?”
“…Olivia is dead?”
A beat of stunned silence.
“Say that again.”
His tone dropped, dark and dangerous.
“Who is this?”
- Writer
