CHAPTER 54: THE ART OF BEING THE VICTIM

HAZEL

The dining room felt smaller than usual. Maybe it was the silence pressing down on everything, or maybe it was just my nerves winding tighter with every bite I took. The roast chicken sat half-eaten on my plate. I pushed a piece around with my fork, watching the way the candlelight caught on the glaze.

Alpha Julius’s wedding was in a few days.

A few days, and I still didn’t have a solid plan to get there. My mother had been working on Father for hours now since we returned.

She had dropped hints and reminders about the importance of showing up to these events. About maintaining relationships with other packs. About not letting the scandal define us.

But Father was hesitant. He’d been hesitant since the moment Fia was revealed to be the one wearing my veil. Since that pivotal moment everything went wrong for Fia and she ended up married to Alpha Cian instead of me.

I glanced up from my plate. Father sat at the head of the table, his gaze distant. He wasn’t looking at me or Mother. He was looking at the empty chair across from mine. The one where Fia used to sit.

My jaw tightened.

Of course he was thinking about her. He was always thinking about her.

Mother noticed too. Her fingers drummed lightly against the stem of her wine glass, the sharp click of her nails against crystal breaking through the quiet.

"Joseph," she said, her voice light but pointed. "You’re staring again."

Father blinked and pulled his attention back to the table. "I wasn’t staring."

"You were," Mother said. She took a sip of her wine, her expression barely hiding her irritation but the wine helped. "You’ve barely touched your food."

"I’m fine."

"Are you?"

Father didn’t answer. Instead, he turned to me. His eyes softened in that way they always did when he was about to ask something he knew I didn’t want to answer. Because it was always about fucking Fia.

"Hazel," he said. "How was Fia when you visited Skollrend? Were there anything else you noticed aside from her mood?"

My stomach twisted. I set my fork down carefully, forcing my face to stay neutral. "She was fine."

"Fine?" Father repeated. He leaned forward slightly, his brow furrowing. "What does that mean? Did she seem happy? Was she being treated well?"

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. This again. Always this.

"She seemed fine, Father," I said. My voice came out clipped, sharper than I intended. "Alpha Cian wasn’t warm, but he wasn’t cruel either. She had her own quarters. She wasn’t being beaten or starved if that’s what you’re worried about."

"And she didn’t say anything to you?" Father pressed. "Nothing about wanting to come home or—"

"That’s enough."

Mother’s voice cut through the conversation like a knife. She set her wine glass down with more force than necessary, the sound echoing against the wood.

Father turned to her, startled. "Isobel—"

"I said that’s enough," Mother repeated. Her eyes were cold and sharp. "It’s bad enough that Fia stole the life that was supposed to belong to Hazel. But you still make it clear she’s your favorite."

"That’s not what I’m doing," Father said quickly. "I was just worried."

"You’ve asked Hazel three times now," Mother said. "Three times in one dinner. How many times do you need to hear the same answer before you’re satisfied?"

Father opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again. He looked down at his plate, his shoulders sagging slightly.

"You never know," he said quietly. "Maybe she’ll remember something she didn’t mention before. Something important."

I forced a smile. "After what happened to me yesterday, I don’t think I would miss a micro-expression, Father. I was watching Alpha Cian closely. He was indeed callous and cold, but she wasn’t maltreated."

Mother leaned back in her chair, her expression smug. "Considering she never called any of us to apologize for her sins, I would say she’s doing alright."

The words hung in the air. Father flinched.

"Maybe I should call her," he said.

My stomach turned over. I gripped the edge of the table, my nails digging into the wood.

No. No, no, no.

He looked like he has actually been made of steel the days before. How quickly that had changed.

And it hurt.

Because... despite everything I’d done, despite every move I’d made to alienate Fia, to turn Father against her, to make him see her for the threat she was, he still cared. He was that weak. That pathetically, stubbornly soft when it came to her.

Even blocking her wasn’t going to do much if she was a constant in his mind.

Mother must have seen the look on my face because she jumped in before I could say anything.

"You shouldn’t do that," she said. Her voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. "I would be so disappointed if you’re the first to break."

Father frowned. "Break? What are you talking about?"

"This is clearly a game for her as well," Mother said. She leaned forward, her eyes locked on Father’s. "She wants you to call first because it would mean she wouldn’t have to beg as much. You’re that willing to forgive her. Don’t you see? She’s manipulating you."

"Isobel—"

"Let Fia be the one to call first," Mother said. "If she’s truly sorry, if she truly wants forgiveness, then she’ll reach out. But if you call her first, you’re just proving that she can do whatever she wants and you’ll always come running."

Father hesitated. His jaw worked like he was chewing on the words, trying to decide if they tasted right.

Finally, he nodded. "I guess you’re right."

But the doubt didn’t leave his face. He looked back down at his plate, his fork idle in his hand.

"Still," he said quietly. "It doesn’t sound like Fia to be this way."

Mother’s expression hardened. "She stole Hazel’s mate, Joseph. There’s nothing we shouldn’t put past her."

The silence that followed felt heavier than before. Father didn’t argue. He just sat there, looking lost.

Then he turned to me again. His expression softened, that same gentle look he always gave me when he thought I needed comfort.

"It’s great you’re nothing like your mother," he said. "You are not vindictive."

Mother’s eyes flashed, but she didn’t say anything.

"I know that Fia has wronged you," Father continued. "But I will make it right. I’ve been getting requests for a marriage alliance from good packs. Strong packs. We’ll find you someone worthy, Hazel. Someone who—"

"I don’t want an arranged marriage anymore, Father."

The words came out before I could stop them. It was sharp and final.

Father blinked, startled. "What?"

I set my fork down and met his gaze. "The one I did agree to has left a sour taste in my mouth. I’m also still reeling with being sexually assaulted by a sentinel of this pack."

My voice cracked on the last part. I let it. I made myself sound small, broken, pitiful. I even let my eyes water a little.

"I just want love to find me when it wishes," I said softly.

Father’s face crumpled. "Hazel, I—"

His phone rang.

The sound cut through the moment like a blade. Father fumbled for it, pulling it from his pocket and glancing at the screen.

"Unknown number," he muttered.

He answered it anyway. "Hello?"

I watched his face change. First confusion, then shock, then something that looked almost like fear.

"Fia," he said.

My blood went cold.

Mother’s eyes snapped to Father, her expression sharp and alert.

"How are you?" Father asked. There was a pause. "How have you been?"

I couldn’t hear Fia’s voice, but I could see the effect it had on Father. His hand tightened around the phone. His face went pale.

"You didn’t call," I finally heard her shaky voice speak.

There was a pause from father. Before he finally spoke.

"I wanted to give you space."

Mother’s jaw clenched. Fia said something but I didn’t quite catch it. Which made father get on the defensive side.

"Fia, let’s not talk about that," Father said. His voice was strained now, almost pleading. "You stole your sister’s marriage. You almost put this pack in jeopardy."

I felt a surge of satisfaction. Good. Say it. Make her hear it.

Mother stood abruptly. She crossed to Father’s side in three quick strides and leaned in close, whispering something I couldn’t hear to the next thing that Fia said.

Father’s expression twisted. "I thought I knew you, Fia. But how do I analyze this without seeing what you did?"

There was a pause. I felt my heart start to this loudly.

"What matters is it worked out in the end," Father finally said.

Then a taut silence followed.

It was almost like that was the end.

But Fia’s voice came through strong this time and I caught it. Her voice was faint but clear enough for me to hear.

"One day you’ll see them both for what they are. And I hope I still have it in me to forgive you, Father."

My heart stopped.

Father’s face went white. "But you never called—"

Mother snatched the phone from his hand and ended the call.

"Enough of that," she said sharply.

"Isobel!" Father stood, his chair scraping against the floor. "What the hell was that? She sounded—"

"Like she was playing games again," Mother said. She set the phone down on the table, her expression cold and unyielding.

"No," Father said. He shook his head, his hands trembling. "No, something’s wrong. She used a strange number. Maybe her phone’s been seized. Maybe she’s being tortured or—"

I couldn’t take it anymore.

I slammed my hands down on the table. The sound echoed through the room, loud enough to make both of them freeze.

"That’s enough, Father!"

My voice came out raw, ragged. I stood, my chair nearly tipping over behind me.

"Nothing is up with Fia," I said. "And you refuse to let it go."

"Hazel—"

"After everything that happened, I have had to become the bigger person," I said. My voice shook, but I didn’t care. I let it shake. I let the tears well up in my eyes and spill over. "For you. For Mother. For the pack. And even for her. I am her big sister after all."

I wiped at my face with the back of my hand and let the tears fall freely now.

"But it’s still Fia," I said. "It is always Fia. I have a scandal over my head. I’m the one whose sister stole her life. I’m the one who almost got assaulted. Fia is currently a powerful Luna of an equally powerful pack. She took a gamble and it worked in her favor."

My voice cracked again. I let it.

"But I have nothing," I whispered. "What would it take for you to look in my direction for once?"

Father’s face crumpled. "Hazel, Baby that’s not—"

"Look what you’ve done, Joseph," Mother said. Her voice was sharp, cutting. "You’ve shown your partiality again."

I didn’t wait for Father to respond. I turned and walked away, my footsteps quick and heavy against the floor.

Behind me, I heard Father call my name. I didn’t reply and I only walked faster.

Then slowly, a smile crept up my mouth because I realized that he was following.