I am finally home. The doctors prescribe me a cocktail of meds and strict instructions: no sudden movements, no stress, and call immediately if the headaches worsen. Head trauma isn't something to joke about, they warn.
My father is released from the hospital too. His ribs are shattered, his arm broken in two places. But that doesn't stop him from ignoring me entirely. Not that I expect much else. My mother and brother hover over him like vultures circling something still barely alive, their worry reserved solely for him—as if I haven't been through hell too.
I only realize how late it is when my stomach growls loud enough to shake me out of my daze. I check the clock. Past 2 PM. No one even bothers to tell me lunch is ready, let alone save me any. I drag myself to the kitchen, moving slow, careful not to trigger the throbbing in my skull.
They are at the table, just finishing their meal. My brother laughs at something my mom says, while my father chews methodically, his face twisted in that perpetual grimace of pain. I cross the room to check the stove. All that's left in the pan are a few lonely ladles of soup. I sigh, scooping it into a bowl.
"Dear, can you give me more soup? I'm still hungry." My father doesn't even look at me as he gestures lazily toward my mom.
She doesn't hesitate. She spins around, plucks the bowl from my hands, and sets it in front of him without missing a beat.
"I'm sorry, Belle," she says, her voice sugary sweet, like that could soften the blow. "There's nothing left for you. You overslept. We tried to call you."
Bullshit. I haven't slept more than a couple of hours since the Alpha's visit. But what's the point of arguing?
"Get some bread," she adds with a shrug, already turning back to her seat.
"But I—"
"Your father needs it more," she snaps, her patience vanishing in an instant. "Have you seen how that wolf left him?"
"And that's only your fault!" my brother cuts in, his voice sharp and accusing. "If you were normal, you wouldn't be out wandering those awful woods all night. Dad would be fine now."
His words hit harder than I expect. Because deep down, I know he's right. If it weren't for me, my father would never have been there, never crossed paths with him. He wouldn't be sitting here now with broken bones and a broken pride.
I sigh, grab a piece of dry bread, and sit down, chewing in silence. The crust is hard, scraping the roof of my mouth, but I force it down.
"How do you feel now, Dad?" I ask, surprising even myself. Despite everything, despite the hate boiling in my chest for this family, I still care. I can't help it. It's pathetic.
He doesn't answer right away. His eyes narrow, his gaze sharp as glass. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, laced with something dangerous.
"Yas… I'm wondering. Why would the Alpha spare you, huh?" His eyes darken, and I feel a chill crawl up my spine. "He hit me. He broke my bones. But he did nothing to you. Do you know him?"
His words feel like a trap, coiled tight and ready to snap shut. I swallow hard, feeling the lump rise in my throat.
"No… I don't," I murmur, but even to my own ears, it sounds weak. Unconvincing.
"He probably pitied her and spared her," my brother sneers, stretching his arms behind his head with an arrogant smirk. "I mean, look at her."
But my father isn't convinced. He leans closer, his gaze boring into me like he can peel back my skin and see the truth underneath.
"No," he growls. "I'm sure he knows you. And I'll find out."
"Love, you need to rest now," my mother interrupts, her hand gliding over his back in a futile attempt to calm him. "It's all over now. Eat and take your painkillers."
She reaches for the pills and a glass of water, but he shoves her hand away, sending the glass clattering against the table.
"I don't need this shit!" he barks, his face twisting in fury. "I need to fucking know what he wants with her!"
"Dad, why are you obsessing over this? Did he say something?" my brother asks, casually snatching the bread from my hand and taking a bite.
I glare at him, but he doesn't even notice.
The truth is, the Alpha did say something. He threatened my father. That's why he's so sure Riven knows me. But what he doesn't know—what none of them know—is that I have nothing to do with what happened. Nothing.
Still, if Riven ever finds out the truth about the terrible things my family has done… I don't doubt for a second that he'd kill them all. He's killed for less on the battlefield.
At least… at least, maybe this means Dad will stop beating me. After Riven's warning, maybe—just maybe—he'll finally leave me alone.
I hope.
"I promise you, Dad," my brother says suddenly, his voice filled with determination. "I'll get you the revenge you deserve. I'll take down that Alpha."
"You aren't strong enough," my father scoffs, shaking his head. "You probably never will be. He's big. Strong. I'm sure he isn't just a simple Alpha."
"I'm not strong enough now, but I will be," my brother insists, his fists clenching. "I'll practice day and night until I'm strong enough. I promise."
My mother smiles softly, like this is the sweetest thing she's ever heard.
"That's sweet of you, honey. But your father is right. I don't want you getting hurt. Focus on your career. The battlefield is where your future is."
"The battlefield!" my father's eyes light up, as if a light bulb has gone off in his head. He slams his fist against the table and shoots to his feet.
Oh no.
I hold my breath.
"That's where I've seen him before!" he roars, his voice echoing off the kitchen walls. "Is he participating in the gare?"
He turns to my brother, his voice dropping into a dark, gravelly tone.
"He's the king of the Death Seal."
My mother and brother exchange a worried glance. The air grows heavy, thick with unspoken fears. The silence stretches until it's unbearable, pressing against my chest like a weight.
My stomach churns.
"He's Riven The Alpha."
The glass my mother has been lifting up slips from her fingers and shatters on the floor, water splashing over my feet. My brother growls low in his throat.
"I knew he couldn't be just an Alpha."
The water soaks into my socks, cold and uncomfortable, but I barely feel it. My mother slaps a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with fear.
"Oh no… That's bad," she whispers.
They all turn to look at me, their gazes sharp, full of questions I don't have answers to.
"Why would Riven help you?" my father asks, his voice low and direct now.