My elder sister, Luna Estelle Adams, prided herself on her independence. She never begged for anything, least of all from a man.

When my brother Fletcher was falsely accused and imprisoned, my father went to the Lake Jade Packhouse, pleading with her to use her position to advocate for his release before Alpha Edward Castillo. But she stood there, righteous and unyielding, her voice cold and detached.

"A wolf must have pride," she said, her chin lifted high. "We should never stoop to begging. If Fletcher is innocent, the Alpha will release him. Justice will prevail."

When Miley Powell, the Delta, forced me to kneel for hours, causing me to lose my unborn child, I begged Estelle to intervene, to demand justice. But she simply shook her head, her expression distant and unfeeling.

"A wolf must stand on their own," she said, her voice calm but firm. "You are your own wolf before you are a mother. How can you fall apart over the loss of a pup? Be strong, Gwendolyn."

Later, when the Alpha demoted her to Omega and confined her to the Rogue’s Den, she knelt before me, tears streaming down her face, begging me to save her.

I fiddled with the silver bracelet on my wrist, my expression calm and detached, just as she had once been.

"But sister," I said softly, my voice carrying a hint of mockery, "didn’t you always say that a wolf must be independent? That she should never rely on another wolf?"

---

My elder sister, Estelle, was a paragon of self-righteousness. Not only did she refuse to vie for the Alpha’s favor, but she also constantly lectured me about it.

In her eyes, seeking the Alpha’s attention was akin to begging. She never begged, not even from the Alpha. She believed her time was better spent "realizing her own worth."

"A wolf must never depend on another wolf," she would say, her voice firm and unwavering. "Even if that wolf is the Alpha, we must always remember to stay true to ourselves. Seeking attention is beneath us, Gwendolyn. It’s degrading."

"Don’t you dare imitate those other Deltas and Gammas, always scheming and competing for the Alpha’s favor. It’s disgraceful."

But she was the Luna, the highest-ranking female in the pack, while I was just a lowly Gamma. She didn’t need to fight for survival—everything was handed to her. She didn’t understand what it was like for the rest of us.

If she wouldn’t help me, I had no choice but to seek the Alpha’s favor myself. Without his protection, how could I survive in this cutthroat pack?

Estelle had always had it easy. A word from our father, Antonio Porter, and she was named Luna without lifting a paw. But not everyone was so fortunate.

Like in my past life, when I was framed and had no way to defend myself.

Now, as the other Deltas and Gammas left after their daily report to the Luna, she ordered me to stay behind, kneeling on the cold floor as she delivered yet another lecture.

Her familiar words echoed in my ears.

I placed a hand on my still-flat stomach and immediately realized—I had been reborn. Reborn to the time before Fletcher was imprisoned, before I lost my pup, before my father died of heartbreak.

Everything could be changed now.

When she started her usual spiel about independence and self-worth, I didn’t argue as I had in my past life. Instead, I nodded along, agreeing with her.

"You’re absolutely right, sister," I said, my voice sincere. "In this pack, you’re the only one who truly understands what it means to be independent. The others are so shallow, always scrambling for the Alpha’s attention."

Her eyes lit up at my words, a rare smile gracing her lips.

"Finally, you understand," she said, her voice warm with approval. "I’m glad my words haven’t been in vain. You may rise now, Gwendolyn. Go back to your duties."

"Yes, sister," I said obediently, rising to my feet and bowing my head in respect.

If only I had known how easy it was to placate her in my past life, I wouldn’t have wasted so much time trying to make her see reason.

If she wanted to cling to her pride in this life, then let it be her downfall.

In my past life, she believed that competing for the Alpha’s favor was beneath her dignity. Not only did she refuse to entertain him, but she also went out of her way to block me from doing so.

When Alpha Edward visited her chambers, seeking intimacy after dinner, she pushed him away with an air of self-righteousness. “Alpha, you must share your attention equally among the pack. There are others who need your presence more than I do.”

Edward’s aura flared with irritation as he brushed a strand of hair from her face, assuming she wanted him to visit me, her younger sister. “Very well,” he said, his Alpha tone sharp. “I’ll visit Gwendolyn tonight.”

But then she replied, her tone firm and virtuous, “That’s not what I meant. I’m certain Gwendolyn wouldn’t want to compete for your affection either. Please, Alpha, visit someone else.”

Her words struck a nerve. Edward’s aura darkened, and he stormed out, his dominance pressing down on the room. For three months, he didn’t set foot in my chambers.

Every time he went to her, she rejected him. Eventually, Edward stopped visiting her altogether, and both of us fell out of favor.

The other Deltas and Omegas had once treated me with a measure of respect, seeing me as the Luna’s sister. But over time, they realized Estelle’s pride was genuine—she didn’t even care for her own flesh and blood. Their attitudes toward me soured.

The one night Edward came to my chambers, his scent heavy with alcohol and vulnerability, I became pregnant. I thought it was my chance to finally secure a better life. But then Miley Powell, the Delta with the highest rank after Estelle, found a petty excuse to punish me. She made me kneel for hours in the cold, and I lost the child. I died that winter, heartbroken and alone.

And my sister? She didn’t care. Instead, she defended the one who’d caused my suffering.

“Miley didn’t mean any harm,” Estelle said, her voice calm and detached. “She couldn’t have known a simple punishment would lead to such a tragedy. Gwendolyn, I’ve always taught you to be magnanimous. Avoid conflict, maintain peace within the pack.”

She continued, her tone lecturing, “Women must be independent. It’s just a lost child. You’ll have more. Don’t let this break your spirit.”

That was the moment I gave up on her.

If she wanted to cling to her pride, then let her. Let her be the paragon of virtue, untouched by the struggles of the world.

But I would rely on no one but myself. In this life, I would seize power and hold it tightly in my hands.

I rested my hand on my still-flat stomach.

It’s up to you now, little one.

The Luna and the Alpha? They could rot for all I cared.

That night, I went to Miley’s quarters, my scent sharp with determination, and made my intentions clear.

After all, in this pack, aside from the indifferent Luna, she was the most powerful.