Chapter 83

Agnes

The slap was so loud it was like a gunshot through the quiet house.

My stepmother staggered backwards, cupping her hand against her face. She stumbled back against the foyer table so hard that it sent the vase on top toppling over, glass, water, and flowers shattering across the marble floors.

“You little…” She quickly recovered, shaking her head. When she pulled her hand away, her face was red and covered in a large, hand-shaped welt.

I had to resist the urge to slap her again on the other side, even though I really wanted to see her entire face covered in my handprints. But I restrained myself, if only because I was quickly realizing that it wasn’t exactly becoming of a Luna to hit another woman, even if it was justified.

When my stepmother could finally speak, she said, “What was that for?”

I grit my teeth and took a step closer, quietly reveling in the way she shrank ever so slightly beneath my shadow.

“What do you think it was for?” I bit out. “You knew what you were doing when you said those things—you knew exactly what sort of reaction you would get out of me. And I think you were dying for it. I think you’ve been dying for it for seven years.”

She didn’t respond right away, but I wasn’t finished. “Well?” I chuckled wryly. “How do you feel, now that the handprint on your face finally proves that I’m just as mad as you always made me out to be?”

My stepmother stiffened. She was staring at me incredulously, as if I were some kind of monster, but I knew that deep down she was absolutely jumping up and down with glee.

Ever since she had entered our lives, my stepmother had reveled in seeing me treated like the unwanted child. She never laid a hand on me, but she didn’t need to. The way her eyes would light up whenever she saw me cry, the way she saw me losing weight, losing hair, losing spirit over the way I was ignored in my own home was enough for her.

And I knew very well the things she whispered to my stepsister and father when I wasn’t around. The careful seeds she not only sowed, but also tended and grew to fruition. She loved it; it was like my entire life was on big game to her, one maniacal experiment to see if she could turn me into the creature she expected me t obe.

And I knew very well, too, that she wasn’t innocent in the incident with the rogues.

For all I knew, it was her idea to hire them to come after me.

But what she didn’t know about me was that I had taken on the role of Luna in so much more than name. I was tired of being walked all over, cast aside, treated like a burden simply for being.

She opened her mouth to speak, but I didn’t let her.

“My whole life, I’ve been a nuisance to you,” I said, my voice trembling with anger as I spoke. “For years, you’ve done nothing but treat me like some kind of madwoman simply for believing that my child is still alive.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That baby is dead, Agnes. I’m just being realistic.”

I couldn’t help the wry laugh that escaped my lips. “You’re not being realistic. You’re just being downright cruel.”

My stepmother shook her head and looked away. “Ridiculous. Simply ridiculous. And now you’ve gone and manipulated our Alpha, too. If Ava had been the one to win the Mate Trial—”

“If Ava had been the one to win the Mate Trial,” I cut her off, taking another step closer, “then our pack would have a Luna who schemes, lies, and cheats to get her way. The pack would be in danger with a Luna like Ava in charge. Thea would be in danger.”

I suppressed a shudder at the thought of Thea with someone like Ava living under her roof. She had suffered enough at Olivia’s hands. The last thing she needed was to be abused by another schemer who only ever thought of herself.

As I moved closer, my stepmother edged her way around the foyer table, stepping over the broken vase on the floor. I stopped, just watching as she put some distance between us like I was some kind of monster.

And, hell, maybe I was. Or at least, maybe I wanted her to think that I was.

Because a monster was a lot less easy to drag down than an innocent child.

Once she was satisfied with the space between us, however, her previous bravado returned. She pulled her shoulders back and said, “So that’s what this is about: that little girl. You think she’ll replace your dead daughter, don’t you? Well, she won’t. She’s not yours, Agnes, and she never will be.”

“And soon,” she went on, “Elijah will realize what you truly are: a woman gone insane over the death of her baby. He’ll finally realize it, and he’ll know that he was manipulated, and then he’ll get rid of you. You never deserved to be Luna, and he’ll figure that out soon enough.”

I couldn’t help but scoff, but there was no humor in the sound.

“Maybe I never did deserve to be Luna,” I admitted. “I never asked to be, either. I never wanted it. But at the end of the day, Elijah chose me to be by his side because he saw the potential in me; something that you never bothered to see.”

“Agnes, I—”

“I’m talking,” I said, holding up a hand to silence her. And although I didn’t want to show it, the fact that she did actually go silent took me by surprise.

I took a deep breath and continued, “Whether you want to believe it or not, Elijah cares about me. He respects me. He trusts me. And that’s why, when I said that I believe my daughter is still alive, he listened and helped me reopen the case. Because he respected me enough to care.”

I paused for a moment, licking my lips, before I went on. “I’m proud to call Elijah my husband,” I said. “And I’m proud to call Thea my daughter.”

My stepmother scoffed. “Of course you’re proud. He’s a powerful Alpha, the type of man you could never—”

“I’m proud because he’s a good man,” I cut her off. “I’m proud because he cares about people. Deeply. Genuinely. Even when it doesn’t benefit him, or when it keeps him awake at night. I’m proud because he raised a little girl who’s just as lovely as he is. And maybe, if you had a shred of dignity inside of you and didn’t just act for your own gain just like your daughter, then you would understand what it’s like to love someone simply for themselves. For the beauty they add to the world. Not for what they can give to you, or what they can do for you. And you’d understand that if you loved them for what they are and not what they can provide, then they will provide what you’ve always needed without even having to ask.”

When I was finished, my chest heaved, out of breath. I stared at my stepmother, waiting for some response, some kind of acknowledgement. Anything.

But none came.

Instead, she was looking behind me.

I turned, and there he was: Elijah, standing in the doorway, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

My eyes widened, and I realized that he had not only heard all of that, but that he could now see the red handprint on my mother’s face. I couldn’t decide which was worse: knowing that he’d just heard me say the L word or that his Luna had slapped someone.

Without a word, he strode past me, past my stepmother, and opened the door. “Get out,” he said through clenched teeth. “Now.”

My stepmother just stood there for a moment, her mouth opening and closing. But before she could say anything, my father appeared and grabbed her hand, yanking her out the door.

“Let’s go, honey.”

“But Ava—”

“Ava is in my custody now,” Elijah cut her off. “She is officially an enemy of the pack for attempting to harm the Luna, and will be punished accordingly. You’re welcome to attend her trial, but for now, get the hell off my property.”

Elijah’s voice left no room for argument. Not that my stepmother could argue, anyway, because my father yanked her outside and Elijah slammed the door in both of their faces without another word.

The silence that followed was suffocating; even more so when Elijah slowly turned, and his eyes were practically on fire as he looked at me.

My breath caught. “Elijah, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

I couldn’t finish. Because he stormed across the room, cupped my face with his hands, and captured my lips in the fiercest kiss I’d ever felt.