The Daughter They Forgot

The moment Mara accepted the offer, she felt something she hadn’t felt in years: relief.

No one in the moonlit courtyard noticed.

Her mother was directing two servants as they carried Livia’s barrel of moonwine out of the family cellar. The black oak had been polished until it gleamed. Fresh gold wax sealed the lid.

“Bring the crystal cups,” her mother called. “It’s time to celebrate.”

Ethan took pictures. His own barrel stood beside Livia’s, marked with the crest reserved for the Alpha’s heir.

Minutes later, his post appeared online.

My sister is going to the Royal Wolf Academy! I saved my moonwine for a worthy occasion. Tonight, I’m opening it for her.

Their father sat beneath the marble colonnade, watching with a rare smile. As Alpha, he seldom attended private family celebrations. Livia’s acceptance was important enough to make an exception.

Adrian stood beside Livia. “Want a picture before they break the seal?”

Livia nodded, smiling sweetly. “Get my right side. It’s prettier.”

Her mother pulled Father and Ethan closer. “Adrian, take one of the four of us. Our daughter was accepted into the Royal Wolf Academy. I want to remember this moment.”

Father and Mother stood on either side of Livia. Ethan rested a hand on her shoulder. They smiled.

Mara stood near the courtyard doors, outside the frame.

Livia had earned a place in the Academy’s general program. Mara had been admitted to the Council Scholars Program, an elite division that accepted only twelve students from all the northern packs.

No one mentioned it.

She had checked the acceptance letter three times before coming downstairs. The silver Council seal was still visible on the folder tucked beneath her arm. At breakfast, she had left it beside Father’s coffee. At noon, she had told Mother the results would be released that afternoon. Ethan had heard her practicing her presentation for months. Adrian had once promised he would be the first to celebrate if she earned one of the twelve places.

Now the folder pressed against her ribs while Adrian adjusted the angle of Livia’s portrait and Mother called for another round of wine.

Mara could have raised her voice. She could have placed the letter in the center of the table and forced them to read it.

But she already knew what would happen. Someone would congratulate her quickly, then turn back to Livia. Her achievement would become another reason she should be generous: she was talented, capable, fortunate. Livia needed the celebration more.

For once, Mara didn’t offer up her joy only to have it turned into another obligation.

Mother broke Livia’s wax seal. The rich scent of berries and winter spice drifted through the courtyard as she filled the crystal cups.

“Our Livia has made us proud,” she said. “This wine has waited seven years for tonight.”

Father lifted his glass. “No one deserves it more than you, Livia.”

Ethan drank and winced at its strength. “The whole pack agrees. My post is already blowing up.”

Adrian steadied Livia’s cup when it tilted. “Easy. Don’t drink too much.”

Livia hugged the cup closer. “But this wine holds seven years of Mom and Dad’s love. I’m not wasting a single drop.”

She swallowed too much at once and coughed, her cheeks turning red. “I guess Mom and Dad put too much love in it.”

Everyone laughed.

Mara looked at the two barrels before them. The space in front of her was empty.

Eighteen years ago, Grandmother had laid down Mara’s moonwine herself. While she was alive, she visited the cellar with Mara every autumn to inspect the barrel and renew its protective blessing.

She used to rest her hand on its polished oak and say, “You can always tell how deeply a child is loved by how carefully their moonwine is kept.”

Grandmother was gone now. So was Mara’s wine.

When Livia arrived, Mother had commissioned a new barrel for her without hesitation.

Seven years ago, Livia’s father had lost his wolf saving Father during a rogue attack. Father believed a failure in his own defenses had caused the attack, so he promised their family would provide for Livia from then on.

The day Mother brought her home, she held Livia in her arms and made a promise.

“This is your home now. No one here will ever make you feel unwanted.”

It took Mara years to understand what that meant.

To keep Livia from ever feeling unwanted, it didn’t matter how unwanted Mara became.

Her phone vibrated.

Mara Blackwell, your place in the Moonridge Isolation Program has been secured. Report to the northern research territory in five days. Program term: seven years. No outside contact.

Another wave of laughter rose from the courtyard.

No one looked her way.

Mara turned off her phone.

Five days.

That was how long she had left in this family.