Chapter 23 Congratulations
Elara's POV
Isabella collapsed to her knees, her body trembling. The ballroom had gone deathly silent, every eye fixed on the Blackwood family with disgust.
Reginald's face had turned an unhealthy shade of gray, but he recovered quickly, his survival instincts kicking in as he reached down to grab Isabella's arm. His other hand shot out toward Vanessa, his voice taking on a carefully controlled tone. "Please, everyone, you must understand. My wife suffers from schizophrenia. She sometimes says things that aren't true when she's having an episode."
He tried to pull both Isabella and Vanessa toward the exit, his movements sharp with barely concealed panic. "We should leave. She needs her medication."
Damian's cold laugh cut through Reginald's attempt at a graceful retreat. "Mr. Blackwood, why the rush to leave? Your eagerness makes you look rather guilty, don't you think?"
I kept my voice calm and level, my gaze fixed on Isabella's tear-stained face. "Mrs. Blackwood, do you have schizophrenia?"
I watched as her mouth opened against her will, the words spilling out before she could stop them. "I don't have any such thing! My husband just doesn't want me telling the truth! He's always been like this, always weak and spineless, never willing to face the consequences of his own actions!"
Reginald's face flushed dark red, his jaw clenching hard. The whispers around us grew louder, more pointed, as the guests' expressions shifted from uncertainty to open contempt.
Sebastian's voice came out as a low, dangerous growl that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. His eyes had begun to glow with that distinctive golden light. "What else did you do to my daughter?"
I felt the temperature in the room drop several degrees as Sebastian's Alpha aura pressed outward. Isabella's eyes went wide with terror, but the spell wouldn't let her stay silent. The words came pouring out in a mechanical rush, each revelation more horrifying than the last.
"We locked her in the basement storage room for two or three days at a time without food or water whenever she did something we didn't like. Sometimes it was for taking Vanessa's toys, sometimes just because she looked at us wrong." Isabella's voice was flat, emotionless, as if she were reciting a grocery list rather than confessing to child abuse. "In winter, we'd lock her in the unheated attic overnight. She got sick so many times, running fevers that lasted for days, but we never took her to a doctor. We only fed her table scraps, never let her eat her fill. She was always so thin, so weak from malnutrition."
The crowd's collective gasp was like a physical force, and I heard someone behind me make a sound of pure disgust. Isabella kept talking, the spell dragging every terrible truth into the light.
"We made her do all the housework from the time she was six years old. If she complained or didn't finish fast enough, Reginald would beat her with his belt. We never let her go to school events or make friends. We kept her completely isolated so she wouldn't have anyone to tell."
Allen's roar of outrage cut through the shocked silence. "You did this to a child? To a pup? You're worse than animals!"
Vera's voice shook with barely controlled fury. "Long-term starvation and abuse like that causes permanent psychological and physical damage. How could you do this to an innocent child?"
I felt Sebastian's body go rigid beside me, heard the sharp crack of bones as his hands began to shift involuntarily. His fingernails had lengthened into razor-sharp claws, and his eyes had gone completely gold, the human facade slipping away as his wolf fought for control. The air around him practically vibrated with barely restrained violence.
Damian moved immediately to his father's side, placing himself between Sebastian and the Blackwood family with careful precision. His voice was low and urgent as he spoke. "Father, you need to stay in human form. You need to stay clearheaded."
I placed my hand on Sebastian's arm, feeling the tremors that ran through his massive frame. For a moment, I thought he might lose control entirely, but then his eyes met mine and I saw him fighting his way back from the edge. His breathing was harsh and ragged, but the claws slowly retracted back into human nails.
I turned my attention back to Isabella, who was still on her knees with tears streaming down her face. The spell was beginning to fade, but I had one more question that needed answering. "What was your real purpose in coming here today?"
Isabella's resistance crumbled completely, her voice breaking as she answered. "We wanted compensation! We raised you for eighteen years. We were going to demand that Silverstone Pack pay us at least one hundred million dollars in child-rearing fees."
The ballroom erupted in derisive laughter and shocked exclamations. I heard someone behind me say clearly, "They abuse her for eighteen years and then have the nerve to ask for money? The audacity!" Another voice chimed in, dripping with contempt, "Trying to profit from their victim? That's a new level of shameless."
The crowd's sympathy had completely evaporated, replaced by open disgust and contempt. I watched as the Blackwoods' social standing crumbled in real-time, saw the way other Alphas turned their backs with deliberate insult.
---
Vanessa's POV
Tears streamed down my face as I shook my head desperately, trying to salvage something from this disaster. My voice came out choked and pleading as I addressed the hostile crowd. "No, this is all a misunderstanding. My mother's mentally ill, she doesn't know what she's saying. We never abused Elara, we treated her like our own daughter."
A young woman in an elegant black dress laughed coldly, her voice carrying clearly through the ballroom. "The Blackwood family's calculations are so loud the entire continent can hear them."
Laughter rippled through the crowd, cruel and mocking, and I felt my face burn with humiliation. I couldn't bear it anymore, couldn't stand the way everyone was looking at me like I was something disgusting they'd found on the bottom of their shoe. I pressed my hands over my face and ran blindly toward the side exit, pushing through the crowd with desperate strength.
I wasn't watching where I was going, my vision blurred with tears, and I slammed directly into something solid and unyielding. The impact sent me stumbling backward, and I would have fallen if not for the wall behind me. I sat down hard on the marble floor, the shock of it momentarily driving the air from my lungs.
When I looked up, I found myself staring at a figure backlit by the chandelier light, tall and imposing in a perfectly tailored charcoal gray suit. My breath caught as my eyes adjusted and I could make out his features properly. He was devastatingly handsome in a way that seemed almost dangerous, with a face that looked like it had been carved from stone by an artist who understood the appeal of sharp angles and cold beauty.
His ice-blue eyes were fixed somewhere beyond me, not even acknowledging my presence, and his pure black hair was slightly disheveled in a way that only made him more attractive. The Alpha aura radiating from him was overwhelming, dangerous and magnetic in equal measure.
Whispers started up around us immediately, voices I recognized from the gossip circles I'd tried so hard to infiltrate.
"Isn't that Kaelen Thorne? I can't believe he actually showed up."
"I heard he hates these kinds of events. What's he doing here?"
"Oh god, he looks annoyed. Doesn't he have a thing about people who dress too flashy?"
My heart stuttered as recognition hit me like a physical blow. Kaelen Thorne. The future Alpha King of Nightshade Pack, the most powerful wolf in the entire continent. I'd seen pictures of him in magazines and society pages, had fantasized about meeting him at events like this, but I'd never actually seen him in person before.
This was like something out of a romance novel. Me, vulnerable and distressed on the floor, and him, tall and powerful and impossibly handsome standing over me. Surely he would help me up, would see past the ugly scene my family had created and recognize that I was different from them.
I forgot about my disheveled appearance, about the mascara that was probably running down my face, and looked up at him with what I hoped was an expression of helpless appeal.
When I saw him raise his hand, my heart leapt with anticipation. This was it. He was going to help me. I reached out my hand toward him, trembling with a mixture of hope and excitement.
But Kaelen's ice-blue eyes fixed on my outstretched hand with its elaborate rhinestone-encrusted manicure, and his expression darkened with clear distaste. His frown deepened as he looked at the glittering stones, and then his gaze swept over my dress with the same cold disapproval.
When he finally spoke, his voice wasn't directed at me at all. He looked past me to where two servers stood frozen nearby, his tone sharp with irritation. "Aren't you going to help her up?"
The two servers rushed forward immediately and grabbed me under my arms, hauling me to my feet with efficient, impersonal movements. I stood there in shock, unable to process what had just happened. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to notice me, to be charmed by my vulnerability, to see me as someone worth protecting.
But Kaelen simply stepped around me without another glance, his long strides carrying him toward the center of the ballroom where Elara stood with her father and brother. I watched in disbelief as he cut through the crowd with easy authority, as people stepped aside automatically to let him pass.
He stopped directly in front of Elara, and I saw him incline his head in a gesture of respect that made my stomach twist with jealousy. His voice was low and rich, carrying clearly despite the murmur of conversation around them. "Congratulations, Miss Sterling. I apologize for my late arrival."