The Cursed Daughter

Pale morning light spills across the Crimson Moon pack territory as I set the fresh bouquet against my mother’s headstone.

They are moon crystal lilies—her absolute favorite, at least according to the stories my grandmother always told me. Twenty-two years ago today, she lost her life bringing me into this world. I brush the last bits of dirt from the stone marker and gather my things, eager to slip away before the pack wakes. Bearing the blame for my mother’s death is heavy enough on its own; I don't need my father or my siblings adding their sneers and venomous remarks to the weight.

In my father’s eyes, I am a walking curse—a mistake that never should have drawn breath. To him, I am simply the thing that murdered his Luna, the love of his life, the fated mate chosen for him by the Moon Goddess.

My plan for the day is simple: slip into the woods, hike out to my grandmother’s cabin, and spend my birthday with her. Most people might call that a sad excuse for a celebration, yet the sting of my father’s rejection never really fades. Neither does the coldness from his new mate and my half-siblings.

Around them, I only exist in two states: completely invisible when it’s convenient for them, or an easy target whenever they need a punching bag for their temper. If I linger in the pack house today, of all days, my father and brothers will make sure I pay for it.

“I hate that you aren’t here, Mom. Still, thank you for loving me enough to bring me into this world when everyone else wished I didn’t exist.” My fingers trace the edges of the small portrait set into the cold granite as a lone tear slips down my cheek. “I’m heading out to Grandma’s cabin today. I won’t have to spend it by myself.”

Slinging my packed bag over my shoulder, I wipe my damp cheek with the back of my hand and walk toward the cemetery gates.

The morning air is still crisp and early, so I quicken my pace toward the pack house hoping to grab a fast shower first. Grandma Evelina always holds off on breakfast until I get there, and I hate the thought of making her wait.

My steps falter as the driveway comes into view. Two unfamiliar sedans are parked out front, meaning my father and the rest of the family are already up and hosting guests.

Just then, the front door opens and Beta Dante steps out onto the porch, his posture rigid. By sheer reflex, I halt in my tracks and drop my gaze to the ground, waiting for him to pass by.

Except he doesn’t walk past. His boots stop right in front of me, and a warm, heavy hand settles onto my shoulder.

“Lyra, you need to come inside right now.” His tone is gentle, almost sympathetic, yet there is a heavy strain underneath it that makes him sound genuinely pained. “Your father’s been looking everywhere for you for hours. Where did you go?”

Keeping my eyes glued to the ground, I keep my voice barely above a whisper.

“I walked out to the cemetery before dawn to put flowers on my mom’s grave.” My throat tightens as I swallow. “I’m sorry, Beta Dante. I didn't think to report it before leaving.”

His thumb rubs a slow, soothing circle against my shoulder, offering a silent bit of comfort.

“Look up at me, Lyra.” Slowly, I lift my chin, pulling my gaze from my worn shoes to meet the solemn gray eyes of my father’s second-in-command. “Head upstairs to your father’s office. The whole family is waiting inside. There’s terrible news, I’m afraid. I truly am sorry, child.”

Letting his hand fall from my shoulder, he takes a step to the side.

Right behind him in the open doorway stands my older brother, Slade, arms folded tight across his chest and a dark scowl carved into his features. Furious, just like every other day. He starts down the steps toward me at a deliberate, unhurried pace.

“Did I do something wrong, Beta Dante?” I whisper quickly, desperate for an answer before Slade can haul me upstairs himself.

“Your grandmother passed away in the night, Lyra. Go on inside. Don’t make them wait any longer.”

All the strength drains straight out of my legs. My knees slam against the damp, cold ground as every tear I held back at the cemetery comes pouring down my face.

“Where the hell have you been?!” Slade roars, his fist tangling brutally in my hair to wrench me back onto my feet. “Grandma died while you were out wandering around!”

His shouting rings in my ears while a fiery pain shoots across my scalp from his grip. Yet the physical agony is nothing compared to the hollow ache tearing through my chest. The one person on this earth who ever looked at me with love, who made me feel like I mattered, has left this world to run among the stars with the Moon Goddess and my mother.

I have nothing left now. Nobody at all.

The crack of Slade’s open palm across my face snaps me violently back to the present, splitting my lower lip and sending a warm gush of blood down my chin.

“What are you standing there for?! Move your feet!”

Giving me zero chance to find my footing or catch my breath, he hauls me toward the steps by the roots of my hair.

“I’m going to make damn sure you never forget your punishment this time,” he snarls, giving me a violent shove that sends me stumbling near the front doors.

“Enough, Slade. Let her go and stop treating her like that. She was only at the cemetery putting flowers on your mother’s grave.” Beta Dante steps between us, catching my brother’s raised wrist in midair before a second blow can land.

Slade lets out a harsh, humorless bark of laughter that drains the last shred of fight right out of me. His next words hit just as hard.

“Lyra’s the reason my mother is dead in the first place. It wouldn’t shock me one bit if she had a hand in killing Grandma, too.”

“You know damn well that’s a lie. The pack doctor confirmed she went peacefully in her sleep. She is your sister, Slade. There is no excuse for treating her like this.”

Hearing the steel enter Beta Dante’s voice, I clumsily try to smooth down my tangled hair, shooting him a silent, grateful glance for stepping in.

“I only have one sister, and this cursed thing isn’t her,” Slade spits onto the ground, his voice thick with disgust.

Part of me understands where his hatred comes from. My birth cost our mother her life, forcing him to grow up without her warmth. Unlike me, he actually has real memories of her living and breathing, whereas all I have are faded photos and the stories Grandma used to share.

“Give her a few minutes to wash the blood off and change clothes. I’ll bring her up to the office myself.”

Slade pivots to walk away, then pauses, leaning in close enough that his words are meant for my ears alone. A cold shiver runs straight down my spine at the sound of his voice.

“It should’ve been you in the ground. First my mother. Now my grandmother. With the old woman gone and no one left to shield you, what do you think we’re going to do with you now? Your luck just ran dry, Lyra.”

Before Slade can say another word, Beta Dante takes hold of my arm, steering me away from him and down the narrow servants’ corridor toward my tiny bedroom.

“Make it quick.” Opening my door, he gives me a light nudge over the threshold. “Your grandmother’s passing isn’t the only news this morning. Your sister’s mate showed up an hour ago to comfort her, and you weren’t here to line up and greet him with the pack. The Alpha, Luna Noreen, and your sister are all livid.”

That catches me completely off guard; I had no idea Fiona had even found her mate yet. I give a mute nod as Dante pulls the door shut behind him.

Crossing the cramped room to the small basin, I rinse the blood from my face, slip into a plain black mourning dress, and lift my eyes to the mirror.

The side of my face is still puffy from Slade's hit, yet the gash on my lip and the dark bruising along my cheek are already fading and knitting themselves closed.

Healing on their own, just like I always have to.