Lya's POV

"You filthy half-breed! You murderer!"

The words barely registered before my mother's palm cracked across my face, sending me stumbling backward into the wall. Victoria Morrison, once beautiful and kind, now looked like a twisted shadow of herself. Her eyes were bloodshot from days of crying, dark circles hanging beneath them like bruises. Her normally immaculate blonde hair hung in greasy strands around her gaunt face.

"Mom, please—I didn't mean for it to happen," I whispered, tasting blood where my lip had split against my teeth.

"Don't you dare call me that!" she screamed, lunging forward to grab a fistful of my hair. "You don't deserve to call me mother. Not after what you did to my Erina!"

She yanked my head forward then slammed it back against the wall. Stars exploded behind my eyes as pain radiated through my skull. The framed family photo beside us—the last one with all five of us together—crashed to the floor, glass shattering like the remnants of our family.

"It was an accident," I pleaded, raising my arms to shield my face from the next blow. "I swear I didn't know—"

"LIAR!" Her voice broke on the word, rage and grief tangling together as she pounded her fists against my shoulders and chest. "You knew exactly what would happen! You and your filthy vampire blood!"

Each accusation landed like a physical blow. Maybe she was right. Maybe I deserved this.

"Your sister would still be alive if it wasn't for you," she hissed, her face inches from mine. I could smell the whiskey on her breath. "My beautiful, pure-blooded daughter... gone because of your cursed existence."

When she finally stepped back, her chest heaving with exertion, I slid down the wall until I hit the floor. She looked down at me with nothing but disgust in her eyes.

"They're preparing her funeral right now," she said, voice suddenly hollow. A bitter laugh escaped her. "But you're not really her sister, are you? Just some half-breed abomination my husband brought home."

She turned away, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. "Sebastian should have left you to die with your vampire whore of a mother."

The door slammed behind her, leaving me alone in the crushing silence of my bedroom. I curled into myself, trying to breathe through the waves of pain—not just from her beating, but from something deeper, something wrong inside me.

---

In a normal situation, the eighteenth birthday of a Beta's daughter would have been a significant event in Moon Shadow Valley. My father, Sebastian Morrison, was highly respected as the pack's Beta, second only to Alpha Richard Sterling himself. As his daughter, my coming-of-age ceremony should have drawn guests from neighboring packs.

The traditional first shift ceremony was something I'd witnessed many times. It always began with a feast or barbecue at sunset, where the pack gathered to celebrate the soon-to-be adult. As darkness fell, everyone would assemble in the pack's circular plaza. The shifter would stand in the center while guests prayed and wished them well before the Moon Goddess.

After the shift, the new wolf would display themselves on the platform, and the Alpha would approach to learn the wolf's name and introduce them to everyone. The new wolf would pledge loyalty to the pack and Alpha, gaining the ability to mind-link with pack members. Finally, the new wolf and any guests who could shift would participate in a group run through the territory.

It was supposed to be special and exciting, even though I'd been worried my shift might be different because of my mixed blood. I'd chosen autumn colors for my decorations - deep orange, red, and green - hoping they might mask any unusual features my wolf might display.

But none of that mattered now. The decorations I'd chosen for my birthday had been repurposed for Airina's funeral.

---

Airina had died early this morning, shortly after midnight. Werewolf tradition dictated that funerals must be held within 24 hours of death, in accordance with Moon Goddess customs. So the food and decorations that had been prepared for my coming-of-age ceremony were now being used for her funeral.

The autumn-themed colors I'd chosen were somber enough to serve dual purposes. All the "happy" celebratory decorations and anything mentioning my name had been removed, replaced with photographs of Airina. The music playlist had been changed from upbeat party songs to mournful tunes and Airina's favorites.

I couldn't even feel properly angry about it. Airina had been my parents' oldest and most beloved child. She was widely believed to be the fated mate of Damian Sterling, Alpha Richard's son and heir. That made her the future Luna of our pack.

Airina was just three months shy of her eighteen birthday, when she would have gone through the marking ceremony with Damian. The pack was so certain they would be mates that Alpha Richard, eager to hand over leadership to Damian and his future Luna, had allowed Airina to begin Luna training at twoteen - an unusual exception to tradition. This despite the fact that their mate bond had never actually manifested, and they couldn't be certain they were truly fated for each other. But Damian loved her deeply and was determined to mark her regardless.

I'd always found that strange. Why not wait until Airina turned eighteen and could confirm Damian was truly her mate? Why rush her into Luna training when there was still a chance - however small - that they weren't fated mates after all?

But no one questioned these decisions. Airina always got special treatment. To my parents, to the Alpha, to the entire pack, she was strong, beautiful, kind, intelligent, and energetic. She could do no wrong.

I hope I don't sound too jealous or mean-spirited. I loved my sister, and her death hit me hard. But I knew a side of her that others didn't, and I was more aware than anyone that my sister was far from perfect.

If I'd said that while she was alive, I would have been accused of jealousy and lying. If I said it now, I'd add disrespect for the dead to those charges. So it was easier to let it go. Along with my coming-of-age ceremony.

I didn't want to seem selfish or self-centered. But the reality remained: tonight I would experience my first shift. It was a biological process that couldn't be stopped or postponed. I would connect with my wolf and transform for the first time, with or without a ceremony.

All I could hope for was that during the funeral reception, my parents or brother might spare 20-30 minutes to help me through it, then pretend everything was normal.

Sadly, I should have known that nothing in my life would ever be that easy.