I floated through the wall into my father’s room, just in time to see him crumple the letter in his fist. His face was contorted with rage, veins standing out on his forehead. The wolf in him was close to the surface, his eyes gleaming unnaturally in the dim light.
Returning to Amber’s room, I tried to see what she had written that provoked such fury.
The draft copy of the letter lay open on her desk as she read my father’s reaction with obvious satisfaction:
“Dearest Father, perhaps the Alpha would be interested to know about your business dealings with the rogue packs beyond our borders? Or how about those missing funds from the pack treasury? I wonder how many laws you’ve broken. Maybe I should start making some calls. Unless, of course, you reconsider my allowance situation. Your loving daughter, Scarlett.”
“Blackmail?” I exclaimed, impressed despite myself. “That’s much more effective than just cursing at him.”
At this point, I felt nothing but cold hatred for the man who was biologically my father. Any warm emotion had been burned away in the fire house, leaving only the desire to see him suffer.
+15 BONU
In a strange way, I was almost grateful to Amber for becoming the instrument of my revenge, even unwittingly. Her fake letter
had struck right at my father’s greatest fear–exposure of his corrupt dealings as Beta.
Now that I was dead, he couldn’t threaten or hurt me anymore. That power was gone, and she had inadvertently shown me that.
On her desk, I noticed a small pile of letters tied with blue ribbon–correspondence from my friends that had arrived while I was
locked away. The top envelope bore Lydia’s distinctive handwriting, with multiple exclamation points punctuating my name.
Amber had been collecting them, reading through each one carefully but never responding. Some had been opened and resealed
so neatly you’d barely notice the tampering. She’d clearly been monitoring my social connections.
After setting aside my letters, she pulled out her tablet and opened a search engine. Her fingers hesitated briefly before typing: “What can’t an elderly female wolf touch during pregnancy?”
The search returned warnings about silver, wolfsbane, and certain herbs that could harm wolf fetuses, especially in older
mothers.
I understood immediately what she was afraid of.
She feared Elise’s pregnancy would threaten her position in the household. The unborn child—especially if it was a male–would inherit everything, pushing Amber aside just as she had helped push me aside.
“You’re in trouble now,” I whispered next to her ear, taking petty pleasure in her anxiety even though she couldn’t hear me. “Your mother doesn’t want you anymore. She’s going to give my father a son, and you’ll be nothing but an outsider here. No one will care about you.”
Her eyes darted around the room, as if she’d sensed something.
“When your baby brother is born, everything you’ve stolen will be taken from you–just like you took from me,” I continued, relishing the moment. “The jewelry, the room, the attention… all gone. Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it?”
I taunted her gleefully, watching her shoulders tense as if she could feel my words brushing against her consciousness.
Perhaps my presence somehow affected her, because Amber didn’t sleep that night. She lay awake until dawn, staring at the ceiling, her mind visibly racing behind her troubled eyes.
Occasionally she would sit up, scribble something in a notebook, then resume her vigil. I watched as she calculated, planned, reconsidered. Something was taking shape in her mind–something that made her bite her nails nervously, a habit I’d never seen in her perfect facade before.
Several times she walked to the window, looking out at the fire house where my body still lay. Her expression wasn’t one of remorse, but of intense calculation, as if I were a variable in an equation she was trying to solve.
“What are you planning?” I asked, knowing she couldn’t answer.
By morning, dark circles had formed beneath her eyes, but her gaze had hardened with a new determination. The innocent, sweet Amber was gone, replaced by someone colder and more calculating.
271
+15 BONUS
As dawn broke, she finally rose and dressed with deliberate care, selecting an outfit that made her look particularly young and
vulnerable–a calculated choice, I realized, watching her assess her reflection.
That morning, just before they were set to leave for their “vacation,” someone knocked on the door with urgency that couldn’t be
ignored.
It was my best friend, Lydia. The sharp rap of her knuckles against the door was as familiar to me as her voice. Normally, we
exchanged letters almost daily–she preferred traditional werewolf communication over texts–but for over a week now, she’d received no response from me.
Concerned, she had come to check on me personally, her red hair windblown from riding her motorcycle, her leather jacket bearing the insignia of our high school pack.
“Mr. Morgan,” she said when my father opened the door, her voice steady despite his intimidating presence. “I need to know where Scarlett is. I’ve sent seven letters this week, and she hasn’t answered any of them. This isn’t like her.”
I floated beside her, reaching out to touch her freckled cheek even though my spectral hand passed right through.
“Oh, Lydia,” I sighed. “You always could tell when something was wrong. But don’t get involved in this mess. It’s too dangerous.”
My father’s face darkened with irritation, his morning coffee still in hand. “That ungrateful whelp is sulking somewhere, I’m sure. She had the nerve to slip threatening letters under my door just last night, trying to blackmail me. She’s just throwing a tantrum because I cut off her funds. Once she’s broke, she’ll crawl back.”
Lydia’s green eyes narrowed suspiciously. Her wolf–enhanced senses were picking up on the wrongness permeating the house— the smell, the absence of staff, the tension.
“Blackmail? That doesn’t sound like Scarlett at all,” she said firmly. “Look, I know when she’s in trouble. We’re pack–bonded. Something feels wrong, and I’m not leaving until I see her. If you won’t help, I’m going straight to Alpha Mason.”
Amber stepped forward, her face arranged in a mask of practiced concern. “Scarlett just needs space right now. There’s really no need to involve the Alpha or pack council. Think of the scandal.”
This comment was clearly intended for my father’s ears. It worked immediately.
“You have absolutely no right to report anything to Alpha Mason,” my father snapped at Lydia, setting his mug down with enough force to crack the handle.
“I am the Beta of this pack and her father. How I discipline my daughter is none of your business. Mind your affairs, pup, before you find yourself in trouble. If Scarlett were truly in danger, I would know.”
Lydia knew about our family situation all too well. She rolled her eyes at his callousness.
“Mr. Morgan, Scarlett is your daughter,” she said pointedly. “And you haven’t been acting like a father to her since Caroline died. What would your mate think if she could see how you’re treating her daughter now?”
“I’ve heard that mistreated cubs draw their mother’s spirits back to defend them. Perhaps Caroline visits you at night?”
+15 BONUS
6
She wasn’t afraid of my father and spoke quite boldly for a young wolf addressing the Beta.
My father’s face paled slightly at the mention of my mother before hardening again. “Ghost stories are for pups. The dead stay dead. Even if there were… consequences… Donovan Morgan fears nothing and no one.”
Being challenged by someone so young clearly bothered him. His face tightened as he tried to maintain his dignity.
“Edward! Edward!” he called, looking for the housekeeper to escort Lydia out.
My father’s face paled slightly at the mention of my mother before hardening again. “Ghost stories are for pups. The dead stay dead. Even if there were… consequences… Donovan Morgan fears nothing and no one.”
Being challenged by someone so young clearly bothered him. His face tightened as he tried to maintain his dignity.
“Edward! Edward!” he called, looking for the housekeeper to escort Lydia out.
He shouted several times before remembering that Edward—and all the other servants–had left. There wasn’t a single staff
member remaining in the house.
Lydia didn’t want to stay any longer anyway and turned to leave.
Before stepping out, she couldn’t resist one final barb: “You know, they say the first sign of a failing Beta is when the staff
disappears. ”
“I guess the second sign is when he starts smelling like a forgotten carcass. Did your fancy imported cologne budget get cut, Mr.
Morgan? Or is that just the stench of a dying legacy?”
My father had clawed his way up from nothing, using my mother’s connections to secure his position.
Nothing enraged him more than reminders of his common origins. His face flushed dark with humiliation and rage.
But of course, the smell wasn’t his fading status–it was my decomposing body in the fire house.
After living with it for days, they had become desensitized to the odor that now permeated the entire property.
“Get out!” my father snarled, his eyes flashing yellow as his wolf rose close to the surface.
Lydia left with her head held high, but I could see the genuine worry in her eyes. She knew something was wrong.
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