CHAPTER 451: ANNA’S SPIRAL

The shattered wine glass still lay on the stone tiles, its crimson contents drying like spilled blood in the afternoon sun. The other girls had scattered not long after Fiona and Nanny Nia’s dramatic departure, their laughter swallowed by a stunned silence. Now only Anna remained, standing amid the wreckage like a toppled queen.

She didn’t move. Couldn’t.

Erik is in love with me.

The words echoed relentlessly, stabbing through the walls of arrogance she’d built around her pride. Her fingers trembled as she clenched the edge of the table for support. No one had ever spoken to her like that before—not Fiona, not anyone. And certainly not in front of others.

Lisa had tried to speak to her before leaving, offering a half-hearted, "Are you okay?" but Anna had waved her off with a stiff shake of her head.

Now, alone with the wreckage of her illusion, Anna felt it—the cracks in her armor. The vulnerability she had refused to acknowledge.

Fiona’s face swam before her mind’s eye. So calm. So confident. So certain.

She had no right. No right to steal Erik. No right to humiliate her.

Anna stormed back into the house, footsteps heavy and uneven. She slammed the door of her room behind her and stood in the middle of the floor, breathing hard, fists balled at her sides.

The mirror above her vanity caught her reflection.

Tears burned in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Instead, she gritted her teeth and stared herself down.

"She’s lying," she whispered. "She has to be."

But the wineglass hadn’t shattered on a lie. Fiona’s voice hadn’t trembled with uncertainty.

And Erik... he’d been distant. Cold even. Ever since Jasmine arrived, ever since everything began unraveling, Anna had felt her grip loosening. First her brother, then Erik. Now even the girls who once followed her laughter were starting to doubt her.

She kicked the vanity stool with a snarl. It skidded across the room and slammed into the wall.

Jasmine. This was all Jasmine’s fault.

The girl had slithered her way into Xaden’s life, into his heart. She had bewitched him, distracted him, weakened him. And now, he was missing, bleeding in some ditch or dead in some forest—and Anna was left behind, powerless.

It had always been that way. No matter what she did, someone else got what she wanted.

She was the Alpha’s sister, and yet no one listened to her. She had warned them about Jasmine from the beginning, but everyone thought she was jealous.

Jealous. As though that flimsy girl was worth envying.

"I’m not jealous," Anna growled at the mirror. "I’m not."

But the reflection staring back at her said otherwise—messy hair, red-rimmed eyes, lips trembling.

She backed away, shaking her head, and sat down heavily on the bed.

The silence was deafening.

Memories began to stir. Erik helping Fiona down from her horse after training. The quiet looks they shared when they thought no one was watching. The way Erik always went still whenever Fiona entered a room, as though he couldn’t help it.

It had always been there, she realized.

She had just refused to see it.

A sob clawed up her throat and escaped before she could choke it down.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to be the one everyone looked up to. She was supposed to be the one Erik admired. The one her brother trusted. The one who stood tall at his side when he returned to the pack in glory.

But now Jasmine had vanished into the woods with Kire, Erik was off playing hero, and Fiona—the soft-spoken, doe-eyed Fiona—had exposed her for all to see.

And the worst part?

No one had come to her defense.

Not Lisa. Not Lily. Not even her own brother, because he was gone.

She dug her nails into her palms, squeezing until it hurt, as if pain could anchor her. Her chest heaved, fury and shame a wildfire beneath her skin. She had always been proud, always calculated—but today, Fiona had unraveled her in one sentence.

"I won’t be cast aside," she whispered. "I won’t."

Her mind raced, clawing for a plan, something—anything—that would put her back on top.

Then a seed of thought rooted itself in the chaos.

If Jasmine didn’t return...

If Xaden never made it back...

What then?

She could become something more. If her brother never returned, the pack would need leadership. They would need someone strong. Someone who understood power. Someone with blood ties.

She would become that someone.

And Erik—he would come around. He had to. Fiona was a distraction. A passing weakness. Once Jasmine was truly gone, and Fiona was dealt with...

Anna’s face twisted into a cruel smile as she stood again.

The pain hadn’t passed, but something had settled over her heart—a bitter frost, cold and clear.

She walked to the vanity, fixing her hair slowly, methodically. Her hands still trembled, but she forced herself to calm. To breathe. She painted her lips in the same crimson as her shawl and looked herself in the mirror once more.

The woman staring back wasn’t crying anymore.

Anna turned and opened the drawer beside her bed. Hidden beneath a folded cloak was a thin, silver chain—delicate and sharp.

A memory clung to it. A whisper from Uther, her uncle, when he had first shown it to her. "If you ever need to remind them who you are."

She slid it into her pocket, just in case.

Outside, the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the pack house. A chill crept into the halls.

Anna stepped out of her room, her gaze sharp and cold.

Let them whisper. Let them doubt.

She would remind them all why the blood of Alphas ran in her veins.

And even if that bitch Jasmine dared return to this pack?

She’d make sure the girl regretted ever stepping foot into this pack.

Dying outside would be better than what she would have to face.