His claws tangled in my hair, yanking me back as his sharp nails pierced my scalp. Slap after slap landed across my face, the force rattling my bones. When he finally tired of his cruelty, he bound me in silver chains, the searing metal burning into my skin, and sold me off like livestock to an old, desolate Omega in the village.

       I had believed my suffering was merely the result of their hatred, but only when I was being tortured by a rival pack did the truth finally surface. My stepmother, Olivia James, and my so-called mate, Beta Finn Collin, had been tangled in a forbidden affair long before my demise.

       The pup Olivia lost had never been my father’s—it was Finn’s bastard. They had been reckless, failing to take precautions, and when their secret threatened to unravel, they orchestrated a grand betrayal, using me as their scapegoat.

       Their cunning had been meticulous, nearly flawless, if not for one crucial flaw: this time, I was reborn. And I would not let history repeat itself.

       A slow, chilling smile crept across my lips as I made my choice. I would not step outside today. Instead, I had two hundred and fifty kilograms of freshly hunted venison delivered straight to our doorstep.

       For work, I sent a quick message to my superior—one of the pack’s high-ranking wolves—requesting to work remotely during the moon cycle. As a key asset to the pack, my request was granted without hesitation.

       With everything arranged, I leisurely stretched, shaking off the remnants of sleep, and made my way to freshen up. When my family gathered for breakfast, the sound of the doorbell echoed through the house.

       The butcher stood at the threshold, his arms laden with the hefty load of venison. Without a word, he deposited the meat and disappeared into the cold morning air.

       My father, grandfather, and grandmother stared at the sheer abundance of meat, their expressions caught between shock and curiosity.

       Before they could question me, I spun a casual tale. “The pack’s business has been slow in clearing its debts, and my boss is getting impatient. They decided to settle part of the dues with goods.”

       I gestured toward the mound of venison. “Since they’re in the trade, my boss turned this year’s bonus into fresh meat for the employees. They suggested we use it to make meatballs for the pack.”

       Grandma’s eyes widened. “That much venison? It has to be at least two hundred and fifty kilograms! We’ll be making meatballs well into the night!”

       Grandpa let out a resigned sigh. “So much for my plans today. I was supposed to meet my old packmates for a game of chess, but it looks like that’s out of the question now.”

       As the butcher’s carriage rumbled away, I turned to my father, my tone light yet firm. “Dad, we can’t waste all this meat. Grandma and Grandpa have spoken—it’s time to get to work. Wash up and start making meatballs with us.”

       Muttering about the pack’s lack of reliability, my father begrudgingly rolled up his sleeves. Within moments, his blade was slicing through herbs and vegetables, sweat beading at his temple as he worked tirelessly.

       On the eve of the New Moon, while other packs reveled in festivities, hanging lanterns and lighting fireworks, our household toiled over the endless task of rolling meatballs.

       As the strongest wolf in the house, my father bore the brunt of the labor. His muscles flexed as he mixed the venison with spices, his breath coming heavy with exertion. The morning waned into noon, hunger gnawing at us all, when he suddenly furrowed his brows.

       “It’s already past twelve-thirty,” he grumbled, wiping his brow. “Your mother was supposed to be back by now. Why hasn’t she come home to cook?”

       Feigning ignorance, I shrugged, my voice laced with just the right amount of innocence. “I don’t know, Dad. I called her five or six times this morning, but she blocked me.” I paused for effect before adding, “Maybe she’s angry with me. Why don’t you try calling her instead?”

       His frown deepened as he pulled out his phone. The sharp chime of the dial tone filled the room.

       “Ring… Ring… Ring…”

       Three calls. No answer.

       His expression darkened, irritation creeping into his voice. “Did you upset your mother again? That must be why she’s not picking up.” His gaze bore into me, reprimanding. “Megan, you’re twenty-five now! Why are you still acting like a pup and stirring trouble with your mother?”

       I pouted, feigning hurt, then pulled out my phone, tapping on a recorded howl. “Dad, you’re blaming me unfairly again. This time, you’re the one who made Mom refuse to come home.”

       I pressed play.

       The room fell silent as Olivia’s voice drifted through the speakers, crystal clear. The moment my father heard her say she didn’t want him to track her down, his face twisted in a storm of unreadable emotions.

       Wordlessly, he lit a cigarette, the glow of embers flickering in his eyes as he exhaled slowly, his expression grim.

       Grandma and Grandpa stepped in, murmuring words of comfort, their voices blending into the crackling silence.

       Seizing the opportunity, I swiftly ordered four sets of takeout from the pack’s communal kitchen. With a sly smile, I turned to my family.

       “Dad, Grandpa, Grandma… Since Mom isn’t coming home to cook, and we’re all elbow-deep in meatballs, let’s just have takeout for now.”

       None of them protested.

       As I pressed the order through, my lips curled into a knowing smirk. Olivia James, the master manipulator, was about to taste the consequences of her own deception. And this time, I would be the one pulling the strings.