Of course he chose me. I was the elder daughter, the Chieftainess, the only logical choice. Una already had a mate, which took her out of the running completely. To my father and so many others, this was my moment—my chance to finally claim everything I was owed, to become the Chieftainess of a powerful pack and escape this place for good.
But it still wasn't fair, was it? I was being saddled with an arranged marriage while Una kept her fated mate. She would always have that over me, that cosmic connection I could never possess. Then, with me gone as Chieftainess of Stonehaven, she would be left to rule Brackenridge in my shadow, a hollow honor.
Over my dead body.
So, I took Liam from her. Convinced him to sever the bond, to run away with me—or so she thought. The plan was flawless. Una would lose her mate, I would escape the wedding, and Declan would blame the pack for the grievous insult. Our father would be ruined, perhaps even killed. When the dust settled, I would pin it all on the obsessed Warden.
But then Mother conceived of something far more exquisite.
She was the one who suggested using Una as my replacement. At first, I thought she was joking, but the more she laid out the details, the more brilliant it became. We could frame Una to take the fall for everything. We would make it look as though she had attacked me in a fit of jealousy, desperate to steal my place. Declan would be incandescent with fury. The pack would turn on her. And I would swoop in at the perfect moment—injured, heroic—to save the day.
I’d still have to marry Declan, but the dynamic would be entirely different. He would be indebted to me, fiercely protective. And Una would be destroyed in a way from which she could never, ever recover.
So I did the work myself. I split my own lip against the cold porcelain of the sink. I slammed my face into the wall until the bruises bloomed, dark and ugly beneath my skin. I tore my dress, locked myself in a closet, and waited for my cue.
Watching Una stand at that altar, draped in my wedding dress with her face exposed to the gasping crowd, was everything I had dreamed of and more.
And now came the best part.
Father shoved his way through the throng, his face a mask of horror and shame, his desperation to defend his precious daughter radiating from him. Of course he would try to save her. He always protected her. Always chose her mother over mine.
"Wait," Father pleaded, his voice trembling. "There has to be an explanation. Una wouldn’t…"
"Wouldn’t what?" Mother’s voice sliced through his. She moved to my side, placing a hand on my shoulder in a perfect pantomime of maternal protection. "Wouldn’t attack her own sister? Look at Clara. Look at what that creature did to her face."
Father’s jaw worked, but no sound came out. His gaze flickered between me and Una, torn. Good. Let him suffer. Let him know what it felt like to have his world ripped apart by choices that were not his own.
"Clara," he tried again, "are you absolutely certain…"
"Are you questioning your daughter right now?" Mother’s voice rose, sharp with indignation. "Your legitimate daughter, who has been beaten and locked away? You would take the side of that… that omega who did this?"
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. I saw several wolves nodding, their faces grim. Father’s face turned ashen.
I had him. He might ache to defend Una, but he couldn’t. Not here, not in front of the entire pack. Not with me standing before him, my injuries a testament to my story. His spine had always been soft where Mother was concerned. She had spent years ensuring it, a long and patient punishment for his betrayal.
This was my moment. Time to seal Una’s fate.
I moved forward slowly, exaggerating the limp I’d practiced in the closet. I made every step look like an agony, calibrating my movements to sell the image of a woman violently assaulted.
Declan watched me approach, his expression unreadable, but I could feel the tension thrumming from him. Any hint of a connection between him and Una was a danger I had to extinguish. I had to be careful, had to ensure he blamed her and only her.
I stopped directly in front of Una. She stared at me, her eyes wide and uncomprehending, as if she still believed this was all some terrible mistake that could be explained away.
"Why, little sister?" I asked, my voice a soft, broken thing. "Why would you do this to me?"
My voice cracked on the last word. I drew on every bitter memory, every slight, every moment I’d felt second-best, and the tears that welled in my eyes were searingly real. She had stolen my legitimacy, my father’s undivided attention, my security in my own home. She had the one thing I never could: a fated bond. The injustice of it all fueled the tears.
"I never—" Una began, her voice a thread of sound.
"I loved you," I whispered, letting the tears spill down my bruised cheeks. "I tried so hard to be a good sister. Even though you were… even though your mother…" I let my words trail off, as if I were too kind to speak the truth aloud. "I accepted you. I welcomed you. And this is how you repay me?"
The crowd swayed with every word, a tide of sympathy turning in my favor. I could hear women in the crowd beginning to weep.
"I wanted you at my wedding," I said, my voice gathering strength. "I wanted you by my side. You were my sister, my only choice for my bridesmaid. And you… you…"
My knees gave out. I had practiced this, too—the precise way to collapse to make it look genuine. My vision swam, and for a split second, the light-headedness wasn’t an act. The sheer, intoxicating thrill of my victory was overwhelming.
Mother caught me before I hit the floor. "Clara! Help! Someone help me! Clara!"
I let my eyes flutter closed, my body going limp in her arms. The perfect victim. The innocent sister, betrayed by a monster of jealousy and malice.
The last thing I saw before committing fully to the darkness was Una’s face. She looked broken. Utterly shattered. As if everything she had ever believed about herself, about the world, had just been proven a lie.
Perfect. Let her spend the rest of her miserable life in the ruin I’d made for her.