Chapter 1: The Daughter Who Should Have Died
It had been ten years since her sister died. Ten years since the world stopped calling her "Alpha’s daughter" and started calling her a curse.
And he was there again.
Her father sat hunched on the bench across from Camille’s grave, a half-empty bottle of bourbon cradled between his calloused fingers. The wind tugged at his tattered coat, but he didn’t seem to notice. His head lolled back against the splintered bench, grey eyes glazed, barely conscious. He looked like a relic worn down by guilt, drink, and the weight of too many years.
Magnolia stopped a few feet away. She said nothing. She never did. There was no point.
Then his voice came slurred, brittle, and cruel.
"Why did she die... but not you?"
Her throat tightened. It didn’t sting anymore not the way it used to. But something in her chest still caved a little, like a bruise being pressed over and over again.
She crouched down in front of the headstone, ignoring the tremor in her fingers as she arranged the bouquet of lilies and wild sage she’d brought. The marble was cracked. The engraving faded. But the name was still there.
Camille Blake
2007–2017
Beloved daughter. Sister. Gone too soon.