Tessa looked completely unbothered, without a trace of guilt.
“Yeah, I did it. I want to buy pretty dresses and go on dates with Alphas.”
“There are only so many students around here. If you don’t run your tutoring class, I can turn that activity room into a makeup and styling class — parents and kids like me way more.”
“You’re so ugly nobody would hire you to tutor them anyway. So just let me have it.”
That was beyond wrong!
I looked at Mom and Dad watching TV on the couch. Even though I already knew the outcome — I was like a pup desperate for its parents’ embrace — I still turned to them for help.
“Mom, Dad, Tessa messed with my flyers, printed my ugly photos to smear me, and destroyed my way of making money. Do something about her.”
Mom didn’t even lift her eyes, her voice flat and biased.
“It’s just a little squabble between sisters. There’s no need to blow it out of proportion.”
“Elise, you’re the older sister. Be the bigger person. Let Tessa have the activity room.”
“Plenty of people heard the royal family likes her designs, and they want to learn from her.”
“If you’re home with nothing to do, all we need is for you to help tutor her in the basics for free.”
Dad turned off the TV and echoed Mom.
“We’re a family. Why keep score?”
“Letting your little sister win is just doing your part as the older one. Don’t make a fuss.”
I looked at my parents, united in shielding Tessa, and at my sister, hurting me without a shred of restraint.
My wolf paced restlessly inside my chest, searching for a single family member willing to protect me. There was none.
In that moment, I understood it completely.
All the injustice, the hurt, the theft — they’d always allowed it, always enabled it.
Because they didn’t love me, my grievances, my struggles, my attempts to save myself meant nothing.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t argue.
I just pushed my wolf back down and wouldn’t let it roar for me — the roar that had come far too late.
That road was closed. But I had other roads.
My design sketches could sell, too.
Two weeks later, Tessa received her final enrollment confirmation from an expensive private college.
Tessa got into the fashion design program at an expensive private college.
The school’s tuition was sky-high, and it wasn’t known for academics. Rich families sent their kids there to network with people of their own class.
Mom and Dad were over the moon. They booked a banquet hall and threw a lavish party to celebrate.
They invited every werewolf in the pack, along with their human friends.
A grand celebration.
When I got into Stanford, there was no party. I didn’t even get a graduation gift.
The whole event revolved around Tessa alone.
Mom and Dad walked her through the crowd all night, bragging to anyone who would listen.
“This is my daughter, Tessa. Isn’t she gorgeous?”
“She’s going to be a model and a designer — even the royal family bought one of her designs. The prince said he’d love to meet her someday!”
The guests showered her with praise, and Mom and Dad lapped up the flattery.
Whenever someone asked about me, they’d brush it off coldly.
“Elise? She just buries her head in books, that’s all. Got into Stanford, nothing more.”
“Plain face, dull personality, quiet and withdrawn. Not worth mentioning.”
With my own parents refusing to defend me, everyone else piled on with comparisons and digs.
“For a girl, looks are everything. A high degree means nothing if you’re not pretty.”
“Elise is so gloomy. Her sister is so much livelier and brighter. It only makes sense their parents favor the younger one.”
I sat in the corner of the banquet hall, every word cutting deep.
Growing up, as long as Tessa was around, I was always the one being compared, belittled, and ignored.
Midway through the party, the host invited Tessa up to present her original design sketches.
Tessa walked onto the stage beaming, holding a deluxe portfolio, and confidently pulled out a stack of drawings.
“These are all my designs. This werewolf ring, in particular, caught Prince Leo’s eye. He said he could see my loneliness and my soul in my work.”
Applause rolled through the room, and relatives praised Tessa’s extraordinary talent — beautiful and gifted, they said.
But sitting in the audience, I recognized them in one glance.
The familiar colors. The familiar cuts.
The bold themed prints, the little star marks in the corners, and the deep, soulful wolf eyes on that ring — all of it was from original designs I’d created last fall and winter, working late into the night, never sharing them with anyone.
Tessa had simply torn off the covers, erased my signature marks, and claimed every piece as her own.
She’d stolen my designs!
She’d lied to everyone!
Years of pent-up hurt, the bitterness of being robbed, the passion that had been trampled — all of it came rushing to my head at once.
I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I rushed the stage, snatched the sketches, and my voice came out urgent but steady.
“These designs are all mine. Tessa Miller, you stole them!”