Chapter 3
The next morning, the sound of helicopter blades woke Mara.
She stepped onto the balcony and found her family gathered on the lawn by the landing pad, dressed for a day in the capital.
Livia spotted her and waved. “Mara! Why aren’t you ready? We’re shopping for the Academy today.”
Mara frowned. “When was that decided?”
“Ethan told everyone in the group chat last night.” Livia lifted her phone. “Didn’t you see it?”
Mara checked hers. There were no new messages. “What group chat?”
Livia’s smile faltered. “The one Ethan made a few days ago—”
Adrian cleared his throat, cutting her off. “It’s mostly jokes and random videos. We didn’t think you’d be interested.”
His fingers moved across his screen. A second later, Mara’s phone vibrated with an invitation.
Livia’s Royal Court
Five members: Father, Mother, Ethan, Adrian, and Livia.
Five people. A complete family without her.
“Go get dressed,” Mother called. “We’ll wait.”
Mara returned to her room. She had barely pulled a dress from the wardrobe when the roar of the helicopter grew louder.
By the time she reached the courtyard, it was already lifting from the lawn.
Her phone buzzed. Adrian.
The pilot said there wasn’t room for another passenger. Stay home today. We’ll bring you something.
The Blackwell family owned three helicopters. No one had considered taking another.
Mara typed: Okay.
Then she watched them disappear over the forest.
It wasn’t the first time Livia had taken her place.
When Mother brought Livia home seven years ago, Livia was terrified of sleeping alone. Mother moved another bed into Mara’s suite so Mara could comfort her through nightmares.
Six months later, Livia said sharing a room made her feel like a guest. Mother gave her Mara’s suite in the Alpha’s family wing and moved Mara across the hall.
The following year, Livia wanted the adjoining room as an art studio. Mara was sent to the guest wing.
By the third year, visiting Alphas needed those rooms, so Mother moved Mara into an old apartment above the stables.
It had a bedroom, a small bath, and a narrow window overlooking the training grounds. It was comfortable by ordinary standards.
But it was no longer inside the family residence.
Each move had been presented as temporary and reasonable. Livia needed comfort after a nightmare. Livia needed privacy to feel secure. Livia needed light for her paintings. Visiting Alphas needed the guest wing.
No single request sounded large enough to justify a fight. Every refusal made Mara look cruel beside a frightened orphan.
So she had packed her things four times.
The first time, Mother helped fold her dresses and promised they would still have breakfast together. The second time, Ethan carried her boxes and joked that she was lucky to have more quiet. The third time, Adrian said the apartment above the stables suited her because she liked to study. By the fourth, no one came. A servant delivered the key, and dinner continued without her.
Standing beneath the empty sky after the helicopter left, Mara finally saw the whole shape of it. Livia had not simply been given a place in the family. Mara’s place had been dismantled to make room for hers.
Her phone vibrated again. A Council travel notice.
Your seat to the Moonridge northern territory has been confirmed. Departure in three days.
When the family returned, night had already fallen.
Livia entered first, followed by servants carrying garment bags and boxes stamped with the names of the capital’s finest ateliers.
“We brought you something,” Livia said brightly.
Adrian approached Mara with a small velvet box. “For leaving you behind. Consider it an apology.”
Mara opened it. Inside lay a delicate platinum bracelet set with tiny moonstones.
For one foolish second, warmth stirred in her chest. “Thank you.”
Livia set a large jewelry case on the table, barely containing her excitement. “You should see what Adrian won at the Full Moon auction.”
She opened the case. A rose-gold necklace rested against black velvet, its moonstone pendant shaped like a pair of wings.
Mara recognized it immediately. It was a one-of-a-kind piece by Sabine Moreau, the most sought-after jeweler in the northern packs.
Adrian had once told Mara her work was too expensive to justify buying.
Livia lifted the necklace toward her throat. “Isn’t it beautiful? Adrian knew I’d been dreaming about it, so he kept bidding until everyone else gave up.”
Then Livia glanced at the bracelet in Mara’s hand. “Oh, that came with the necklace. The auction house included it as a complimentary collector’s gift.”
Mara’s fingers tightened around the velvet box.
Adrian had spent a fortune buying Livia the necklace she wanted. The gift he brought home for Mara was the free item that came with it.
Livia touched the moonstone pendant at her throat. “Adrian, you shouldn’t have spent that much. The final bid was insane.”
Adrian shrugged. “You’re starting at the Royal Wolf Academy. You deserve at least one piece made especially for you.”
Mother leaned closer to admire the necklace. “It’s beautiful, Adrian, but you’ve already done so much for her.”
“I wanted her to have it.”
Mara looked down at the platinum bracelet. A small black tag hung from the clasp.
Full Moon Auction — Collector’s Gift
Livia glanced at her, then at the necklace case. “Mara, don’t you like it?”
Mara didn’t reply.
Livia’s fingers tightened around the case. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how you’d feel.” Her voice grew quieter. “Adrian wanted to bring you something because we left without you, and the bracelet is lovely. But it came free with my necklace. I should’ve realized that might hurt you.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “This is my fault. I wanted the necklace so badly that you ended up with the complimentary gift.”
“Livia—” Mother began.
“I always get the best of everything.” Livia’s voice broke. “And Mara is left with whatever remains. I’m so selfish.”
Mother hurried to her side. “Don’t say that. None of this is your fault. Adrian bought the necklace because he wanted you to have it.”
Livia shook her head and unclasped the necklace. She placed it back in its case and pushed it toward Mara. “No. If this has hurt Mara, then she should have it. I don’t want it anymore.”
Mother immediately stopped her. “Don’t be ridiculous. It was chosen for you.”
Tears slipped down Livia’s cheeks. “But Mara must feel terrible. Ever since I came into this family, she’s had to give up so much.”
Her gaze moved to the small case on the side table. Inside lay Grandmother’s moonstone cuff.
It was made of white gold, engraved with the Blackwell crest, and set with a moonstone that had passed down through the Luna bloodline. Grandmother had placed it on Mara’s wrist shortly before she died.
Livia picked it up. “What if we trade? Mara can have my necklace, and I’ll take this. Then we’ll both have something special.”
Mara stood so quickly that her chair struck the floor. “No.”
Livia flinched and almost dropped the cuff.
“My grandmother left that cuff to me,” Mara said, keeping her voice steady. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
“That’s enough, Mara.” Ethan stepped between them. “Livia offered you a one-of-a-kind Moreau necklace for it. That old cuff has been sitting in a box for years. Why are you acting as if she tried to steal it?”
“Because it’s mine.”
Adrian caught Mara’s arm. “Your father walked away from that attack because Livia’s father lost his wolf. Is one cuff really too much to give her?”
“You can’t replace an heirloom,” Mara insisted.
“Then I’ll commission another one,” Adrian said. “It’s only jewelry.”
“It is not only jewelry.”
“Enough.” Father’s Alpha command silenced the room. His cold gaze settled on Mara. “Livia will have the cuff. Her father sacrificed his wolf saving my life. You can give up one piece of jewelry for his daughter.” His tone left no room for argument. “This discussion is over.”
Mother held Livia while she cried. Ethan and Adrian watched Mara, waiting for her to stop making things difficult.
They all expected the same answer.
Mara wanted to ask why, if Livia’s father had saved Father, she was always the one expected to repay the debt. Why did every act of gratitude begin with taking something from her?
But she swallowed the questions. They had never listened before, and there was no reason to believe they would start now.
In three days, she would be gone. The cuff would be the last thing they ever took from her.
“Fine,” Mara said.
Livia wiped her tears. “Thank you, Mara.”
Mara returned to her room and closed the door.
When Grandmother gave her the cuff, she had fastened it around Mara’s wrist herself. “This belongs to you. No one has the right to take it away.”
She had been wrong.
Mara sat on the edge of her bed with the empty cuff box in her lap. The pale indentation around her wrist had faded years ago, but she could still remember Grandmother’s fingers fastening the clasp and the quiet certainty in her voice.
No one has the right to take it away.
Father’s command had taken less than a minute to prove otherwise. The cuff itself mattered, but what hurt more was how easily everyone accepted that Mara’s refusal did not count. Livia’s tears had become an argument. Mara’s grief had become bad behavior.
She opened her suitcase and placed Grandmother’s photograph between two sweaters. It was the only inheritance she had left that they could not wear, pour, auction, or give away before she reached the gate.
For the first time, leaving did not feel like surrender. It felt like protecting what remained of her.
Three days later, the household was awake before sunrise.
Servants loaded Livia’s luggage, art cases, and new wardrobe onto the family jet. Mother checked every case twice.
Before they left, Mother handed Mara a boarding pass. “Your flight leaves at noon. It lands shortly after ours.”
There had been room on the jet. They had filled it with Livia’s belongings instead.
“I’m leaving now,” Mara said.
Mother was adjusting Livia’s coat and didn’t look up. “Rest on the flight. We’ll see you at the Academy.”
Livia waved as she climbed aboard. “See you there, Mara!”
Mara watched the jet roll toward the private runway. Then she returned to her room, collected her suitcase, and took the Council car waiting beyond the estate gates.
She wasn’t going to the Royal Wolf Academy. She was reporting to Moonridge.
At the northern terminal, her phone filled with messages.
Mara, the airline says you never boarded. Where are you?
Call me immediately.
She removed every member of her family from her contacts and turned off her phone.
When the Council aircraft lifted above the clouds, the Blackwell territory disappeared beneath her.
Whatever debt they believed they owed Livia was theirs to repay. Mara would no longer be the price.
