"I understand you, Celeste," Damian said.

He locked the door. The loud click echoed in the small guest room.

I fumbled with my phone, my thumb swiping clumsily across the glass screen. The drug Rosalie slipped into my champagne was working fast. My vision swam.

"Put the phone away," Damian ordered.

"Get out," I slurred, finding Kael's name in my contacts.

Damian snatched the device from my hands. He tossed it onto the armchair across the room.

"You need to listen to me," Damian insisted. He paced at the foot of the bed, his hands running through his hair. "You were the center of this family. You had all the love. Vincent adored you. Your parents spoiled you. You were the golden child of the Beaumont pack. When Rosalie arrived, it made you uncomfortable. I get it."

"You get nothing," I whispered, sinking deeper into the pillows. "You just like playing the hero."

"We have to care for her, Celeste. She's the youngest. She has no parents. She survived a rogue attack while you were living in luxury."

"I didn't kill her parents," I spat. The metallic taste in my mouth grew stronger. "What does that have to do with me? Why am I the one who has to pay for her tragic past?"

"Have some sympathy! You used to be kind."

"Sympathy? For a liar?" I laughed. The sound was harsh and broken. It surprised him. He expected me to cry, just like I did three years ago. "Besides, you don't even know her."

"I know she doesn't throw glass at her sister."

"If you saw the background check Kael pulled, you'd realize you're protecting a fraud,"