The wolfsbane-laced merlot stained my lips like blood as Father clinked his glass against mine, his smile as false as the diamond cufflinks adorning his wrists. "To your new life, my dear," he purred, watching me drain the wine-oblivious that the potion would unravel my world.

To secure an investment and buy a gift for his bastard daughter, Father drugged me with wolfsbane-laced wine and delivered me to his sworn brother's bed.

The penthouse overlooked Manhattan's skyline, but I registered only the raw strength of the man beside me.

His hands on my skin, the scent of cedar and wild wolf that clung to the sheets-we burned through the night, a box of condoms strewn across the silk sheets like casualties of war.

When consciousness clawed back, sunlight seared my eyes, and a growl rumbled from the throat of the man who'd claimed me.

"I'm your father's blood brother," he snarled, his wolf eyes glowing gold with disgust.

Look at you," he sneered, tossing me a silk robe that reeked of his scent.

"So desperate for a wolf that you'd drug your father's brother. Pathetic."

His gaze raked over me like a branding iron, each word a lash.

"Tell your father he can keep his blood money. I'll never touch a cur who crawls into bed with trickery."

He flung my naked form back to the Charles manor, vowing never to see me again.

Fearful of offending the Davis pack, Father tossed me into the Silverwood Asylum that very night. There, I endured beatings with silver-tipped batons, electroshocks from silver-lined restraints, and degradation by the director and his lackeys-werewolf hunters masquerading as orderlies. When they wheeled me toward the operating table for "werwolf experimentation" on a werewolf hybrid, I leaped from the rooftop.

As my wolf's lifeblood ebbed, a disembodied growl rumbled in my mind:

"Little pup, give me your heart, and I'll grant you rebirth."

The air reeked of ozone l as my claws scraped the concrete.

I remember nothing but waking with a hollow chest, where once my werewolf heart beat.

The asylum director-who'd once relished my screams-now cowered before me.

"Miss Charles-no, mistress!" He thrust a discharge paper forward, his hands shaking. "We've called your family. Mercy, please!"

I flexed my claws, recalling the demon's pact.

He'd taken my gentle heart, the one that craved pack bonds, and left me a rabid she-wolf.

Now, clutching the asylum papers, I laughed at the approaching limousine-its windows tinted against the moon.

Finally, I could make them taste silver.

When I staggered into the Charles manor, the laughter died.

Jason instinctively shielded Annie Charles behind him, her scent cloying with victory.

Father curled his lip at my blood-stained gown-crusted with my own drying wounds and the gore of my tormentors.

"Back so soon?" he sneered.

"Wearing that ragged trash to play the martyr?"

I traced a scar on my forearm, where silver had burned me.

Jason's gaze flickered to the mark, his wolf nose catching the stench of old pain.

But he only growled: "Three years in Silverwood didn't cure your depravity. Try seducing me again, and I'll chain you there forever."

His words didn't sting-my heart was gone, replaced by a void where once love had howled.

I remembered begging him on a broken leg, his promise to protect me fading as he sent me back to the asylum.

Now, I smiled, baring half-healed fangs.

"Thank you, Jason Davis," I purred, "for teaching me what real monsters look like."

At my icy demeanor, Jason Davis shows no relief-instead, his wolf eyes flicker with annoyance,. He clears his throat, but Annie Charles slides between us, her diamond ringdug into the electrocution scar on my arm.

"Sister, I'm thrilled you're back!" she purrs, her nails pricking my skin.

"No one makes a better bridesmaid. I've been so bored without you to... play with."

I bare my teeth in a smile, fangs glinting:

"Oh, little sister, I've longed for this reunion more than you know."

Memory howls: when Mother and Father built their empire from nothing, I ran wild as a street pup, covered in grease from their factory machines.

Just as Father's business thrived-when I thought we'd finally be a real pack-Annie's mother arrived, reeking of wolfsbane and ambition.

Together, they drove Mother to her grave, using hexes and silver-tongued lies.

The day Annie stepped into our manor, she smashed Mother's memorial plaque, claiming my room as her own.

She framed me for theft, banishing me to the storeroom-stifling, reeking of mold.

Every time I emerged, Annie would sneer, pinching her nose:

"Filthy mutt-you stink of stray dog."

She forbade me from the table, so I scavenged scraps from the garbage, enduring her kicks and claw swipes when she grew bored.

Once, starving, I ate cake she'd thrown out.

She sewed my mouth shut with silver thread.

When the nanny tried to help, Father ripped the stitches free, snarling:

"You shame me! If only you were half as obedient as Annie-maybe then I could love you."

He fired the staff, leaving me to clean the manor alone, my lips throbbing with poison. Even then, I dreamed of his approval-of a birthday cake, baked with love.

Now, watching Annie's manicured hand rest on Jason's arm, I recall how she smashed my fingers with a silver mallet when I touched her piano.

"Your hands were lovely," I murmur, tracing the scars on my knuckles.

"Pity they're so... ruined now."

Annie jerks back.

"You're mad! Just because I'm mating Jason-"

"Enough!"

Jason pulls her close, his scent clouded with protectiveness.

"Annie is innocent! You'll never accept that I chose her over a monster like you."

Father's palm connects with my cheek, rings biting my skin.

"You should have died in that asylum! You're no daughter of mine-just a rabid cur!"

I bow my head, hiding a grin as blood trickles from my lip.

They're right-I did die.

The gentle Yuki who craved their love perished in that electrocage.

In her place stands a demon, born of a wolf's fury and a pact with darkness.

My hollow chest hums with anticipation-soon, they'll taste the silver they so freely gave.

Father locks me in the storeroom to "reflect," fearing I'll taint Annie's mating ceremony to Jason.

Through the splintered door, their laughter mingles with the clink of goblets.

I curl in the shadows, scratching their names into the floor with a broken nail: Jason. Annie. Father.

The slap on my cheek still stings, but it's nothing compared to twenty years of hunger, of being beaten with silver-tipped canes.

Killing them would be too kind.

No-they must howl as I did, taste the same despair.

Exhaustion drags me under.

Half-dreaming, I feel hands groping my body-memories of asylum orderlies with silver coins in their pockets.

I jerk awake, fangs bared, meeting Jason's whiskey-clouded gaze.

His breath reeks of bourbon and... arousal.

"Jason Davis-what do you want?"

I snarl, slapping his hand away.

He blinks, wolf eyes clearing to reveal lust and scorn.

"You lured me here, Yuki. Still playing the innocent pup?"

His fingers brush my electrocution scar.

"Guess I need to teach you manners-again."

Three years, and he's still the same.

He forgets he wasn't drugged that night; he forgets he begged for more.

Now he reeks of lies, trying to pin his sins on me.

But I'm not the weak she-wolf he remembers.

My hand slides toward a cracked vase.

I almost spared him, once.

Recall the day he saved me from Annie's lackeys, when they held my head in a gutter, forcing me to lick her shoes.

He threw his coat around my bleeding shoulders, said: "Come to me if they hurt you. I'll protect you."

That promise bound me tighter.

Even after he took my virginity, even after he tossed me in the asylum, I clung to it.

No more.

Now I want to tear out his heart, see if it beats with remorse or just more lies.

Jason's fingers tighten on my wrist, eyes fixed on the scars crisscrossing my chest.

"Why... so many wounds?"

Moonlight filters through the window, highlighting each silver burn, each bite mark.

He mutters: "I told the director to be gentle..."

Gentle?

As if "teaching rules" didn't mean electroshocks and broken bones.

As if they didn't relish hurting a pup without a pack.

Before I can strike, the door bursts open.

Annie stands there, fake tears in her eyes.

"Jason! What are you doing with her?"

Jason jerks back as if burned by silver.

All concern vanishes.

"Yuki seduced me! She'll never accept we're mating."

Father storms in, cane raised.

"Filth!" He strikes my spine. "

Should've let you die in that asylum!"

Annie pretends to pull him back.

"Father, she's not worth it. Send her back before the wedding-we can't have her shaming our packs."

Father nods, dragging Jason away.

As they leave, Jason glances back-for a second, his gaze flickers with doubt.

But Annie tugs his arm, and the moment dies.

I laugh softly, retrieving a rusted hammer from under a tarp.

Jason had his chance to see the truth. To choose mercy.

Now, the only mercy he'll get is a quick death.