“I need two more buckets of milk! Two more! Immediately!”

I groaned, waking up. The manor was alive with activity. The hurried footsteps, whispered orders, and the clatter of preparations for the wedding. The tension in the air was thick, but no one looked at me, not really.

They didn’t care that I’d slept in.

Pulling on yesterday’s cardigan, I moved quietly through the hallways, careful not to block the maids scurrying about. They already had enough on their plates; I wasn’t about to add to it.

I wasn’t even an omega, but I was treated like one anyway.

Valeria was sitting in the milk bath, calm and composed, her golden hair framing her face like a halo. The room smelled of honey and jasmine as she chattered with the maids beside her.

Finally, her grey eyes drifted in my direction, lighting up, and her lips lifted into a reassuring smile. She urged me to come closer. “Viara, don’t let this worry you. The Alpha is strong. He’s... an Alpha. This marriage will secure our pack’s future.”

If only Father hadn’t gambled, maybe the future would already be secure.

I sat on the edge of the tub, eyes searching hers. “I won't see you again,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

Valeria’s smile didn’t falter. “Now we both know that's not true. Stop sulking like im becoming a rogue. I’ll be a Luna.”

She was always the optimistic twin, while I was the ‘shit is doomed’ twin.

Before I could say more, the Head Maid’s sharp voice sliced through the room, startling me as my hand brushed the milk. “Viara, get moving. You have orders to run errands. The seamstress won’t wait all day.”

Her eyes cold, her tone clipped, the Head Maid glanced at me like I was a nuisance rather than family.

I stood, nodding silently, hiding the sting her words caused.

I took one last glance at my sister, who seemed to have returned her focus to whatever the maids were doing, and I sighed, walking out.

Outside, the village was awakening. As I walked through the cobblestone streets, I caught glimpses of children shifting into their wolf forms, fur sleek and dark, their eyes bright with mischief. They ran in packs, their laughter wild and free, a stark contrast to the heavy weight on my chest.

I used to love shifting. Now, I hated my wolf — the way it felt foreign, the way it never seemed to want me.

The pack members’ eyes followed me, some with curiosity, others with thinly veiled disdain. I didnt always come outside, but when I did, they made sure to remind me to stay inside.

“The twin who killed her mother,” one woman whispered, her voice dripping with malice.

A boy called out, “Maybe they’ll cut your hair so you don’t look so lost.”

I didn’t answer. I kept my head down, clutching the dresses the seamstress had given me, silk and lace meant for Valeria, soft and scented with roses. Maybe one day Father would order clothes made for me, too.

When I returned, the atmosphere had shifted. Something was wrong. The servants moved with nervous energy; whispers floated through the halls like smoke.

I dropped the basket. My wolf's nose twitched, the sharp, metallic tang of blood.

The air was thick when I pushed open Valeria’s door. It wasn’t the usual scent of lavender and vanilla I loved, but something darker, heavier. My heart slammed against my ribs as I stepped inside.

There she was, my golden sister, my brighter half, lying still in the milk bath, her pale skin marred with deep crimson. Blood pooled around her like spilled wine on white silk. The flicker of candlelight cast long shadows, twisting the room into a nightmare I couldn’t wake from.

“Valeria...” My voice cracked, barely more than a breath.

Her eyes fluttered open, barely holding on to the world. She managed a faint, trembling smile that tore through me. “Viara...” she whispered, voice so fragile it almost broke me.

I dropped to my knees beside her, hands shaking as I reached out. Her skin was cold, clammy under my fingers. Panic clawed at my throat.

“Stay with me. Please. Don’t leave me, you should have just told me you didnt want to get married,” I begged, voice desperate, raw.

She grasped my arm weakly, squeezing like it was the only thing keeping her tethered. “I... didn’t do this,” she breathed, words so faint I almost didn’t catch them.

My mind screamed, Did someone hurt her? Not the maids, scrambling for Father, some sobbing at the door. Was this the curse? The rumors?

“I’m sorry, V.”

I pressed my palm to her chest, willing her heart to beat, her breath to deepen. But it slowed... then stopped. Her wolf slipped away from her eyes. The silence that followed was crushing.

My tears fell freely, burning trails down my cheeks. The world felt empty, cold. The bride of the Moonbane Pack was dead.

Somewhere, deep inside, a dark voice whispered the warning my father had spat weeks ago: If she dies, we all die.

I curled over Valeria’s lifeless body, the weight of everything crashing down—the perfect sister, the golden daughter... gone.

To think I jinxed it with my stupid mouth.

And maybe… I’d doomed us all.