Chapter 16
The driver took me to the outskirts of town, to a place called Riha Street. The moment we arrived, I could feel the oppression in the air. The street was in a state of decay–garbage littered every corner, the smell of rot and desperation hung thick. Broken down buildings leaned against one another as though waiting to collapse. People huddled in doorways, their eyes following the limousine as it made its way down the narrow road. The contrast between the sleek, polished vehicle and the slums couldn’t have been starker. I stepped out, and all eyes were on me.
It’s rare for a beautiful young woman to appear in this place, and when she does, she’s prey to everyone, which is why I was targeted in my last life.
My driver growled lowly a few times at the hobos who were probing towards my side, carrying a very powerful pressure. The hobos withdrew their gazes in fear.
I felt warm inside. My brother Ethan had always valued my safety, and the drivers who came to transport me were powerful warriors in the pack who could ensure that I was not in any danger.
We walked down the street, searching for Lirian. But he was nowhere to be seen. Following my memory, I found the small, rundown building where Lirian had once lived. The door was locked, and dust had settled thickly over everything. It had been abandoned for some time.
I handed a few coins to the children playing on the street, hoping for answers. One of them, a sharp–eyed boy, stepped forward. “The man who lived here?” he asked, glancing at the dilapidated building. “He left a few days ago. A fancy car picked him up. Haven’t seen him since.”
I was startled. A limousine? Who could have taken Lirian, and why? This deviation in his life confused me. In my past life, things hadn’t gone this way. Not finding him as I had expected left me feeling strangely low, a hollow sensation settling in my chest.
I returned to the car, feeling heavy. The thought of seeing Ethan later lifted my spirits a little. Maybe things would feel lighter once I was back at the packhouse.
When I arrived home, the head maid, Clara, met me at the entrance. She was a thin woman withy cold eyes, quick to calculate anyone’s worth. As I stepped out, she rushed forward, a false smile plastered on her face. But I knew better. She wasn’t here for me.
“Sophia,” Clara greeted, her eyes darting behind me, searching. “Young Master Ryan didn’t come back with you?”
I sneered internally. Of course, she wasn’t here to greet me. Clara was Ryan’s mother and one of the many mistresses of Stardust Pack’s Alpha. Once, she had been abandoned, left to wander the streets,
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just like Lirian. She had even left Ryan behind when he was just a child. But instead of hating her, Ryan had always longed for her love. When the Stardust Pack finally retrieved Ryan, he begged me to bring her into our home. Ever since then, Clara treated him much better, as his recognized status secured her a place by his side.
To Clara, I was just a stepping stone to something greater. In her eyes, I was destined to marry Ryan, and she behaved as though that would make her the queen of the Moonshadow Pack. I once thought so too, bowing to her whims, believing her to be my future mother–in–law. But not anymore.
“You should address me as Miss Sophia, ” I said coldly, stepping past her. “And for the record, the only one here who can be called ‘young master‘ is my brother. Don’t make the mistake of using that title again.”
Clara froze, her face draining of color. She stared at me as though I were a ghost. Her tone shifted as she tried to cover her shock. “Sophia, did you and Young Master Ryan have a disagreement? Don’t
Worry.
I’ll talk to him. You know how he dotes on you–don’t let a little spat get in the way.”
I laughed bitterly inside. “There’s no need,” I replied evenly. “Pack up everything in Ryan’s room. From now on, there’s no place for him here.”
Clara stood rooted to the spot, as though she hadn’t heard me. “Sophia,” she said in a saccharine tone, “it’s normal for couples to have a fight. Don’t be so impulsive. You’ll drive him further away with this behavior.”
Her words hit a nerve. She knew how much, in my previous life, I had feared losing Ryan. Every time he threatened to leave, I had bent over backward to please him. I had let her walk all over me, thinking that, one day, when Ryan married me, half of this pack would be hers through him. She had never acted like an Omega maid–more like a self–proclaimed matriarch.
My patience snapped. “Are you going to pack or not?” I demanded, my voice hardening. “If you’re! not willing, then leave. Get out of the Moonshadow Pack.”
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