Chapter 164: Oh, Mother!

Lila’s POV

I’ve lost count of the days I’ve been locked inside this cage like some rabid animal. Time is a cruel trickster here…hours stretch into eternities, and nights dissolve into an endless loop of hunger, pain, and silence.

Without my wolf’s full power to heal me, I became more or less human. Fragile. Weak. My right hand…gone. A stump throbbing with a sore ache that mocked me with every heartbeat. She was always there, at the back of my mind, seething, groaning, snarling to be free. But I could never get to her. She could never come to me. Whatever cursed spell that witch cast was strong…so strong it left me hollow.

I needed out.

I need out.

And when I do, I’ll make them all pay.

Every last one.

From beyond the dungeon walls, muffled sounds bled in…cheering, laughter, the brazen blare of a horn echoing three times. My stomach twisted. My nails scraped against the rusted bars. Three blows. I knew what it meant.

The Alpha had crowned his mate as Luna.

Once upon a time, that was my dream. Once upon a time, all of it was within my reach…until it wasn’t.

Rage burned like acid in my throat.

Is it Aria?

Have they finally crowned her, paraded her like some glittering prize while I rot in this hole? What next…will she come strutting in here with guards at her heels, draped in Luna silks and dripping with jewels, just to gloat? Just to show me how completely I’ve been replaced?

Is this what I’ve been reduced to…locked in filth, maimed, forgotten…while she basks in everything that should have been mine?

I slammed my body against the cage, the chains rattling with the force. “It wasn’t supposed to end like this!” My scream tore my throat raw. I shook the bars violently, teeth bared, spittle flying. My tears streamed down, hot and bitter, mingling with the snot clogging my nose, the saliva stretching between my clenched teeth. My hair plastered against my face as I screamed again, hoarse, animalistic.

“I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE IVY BLACKWOOD!”

Not her. Never her.

“She’s taken everything from me!” I beat my shoulder against the iron, again and again until blood smeared the bars. My entire body rattled with fury, hatred scorching every nerve. “I HATE THEM ALL! DO YOU HEAR ME? EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!”

Mocking me. Laughing at me. Wiping their boots on my name as if I wasn’t once their chosen daughter, their cherished jewel.

As my fury ebbed into broken sobs, my stump throbbed like a curse, a cruel reminder of what they’d stripped from me.

That’s when I heard it…soft, deliberate.

Keys.

The faint rattle of iron teeth brushing together.

Someone was coming.

I crouched low, wiping my tears with the back of my good hand. Did they bring raw meat again, like I was a starving mutt? Did they want to watch me crawl and snap for scraps?

The door groaned. And then…her scent.

Familiar. Floral. Motherly.

Elizabeth Carrington.

My mother.

My chest tightened, but not with love. With memory. Once, she cherished me, held me close, whispered that I was her world. And just as quickly, she threw me under the bus, discarded me like filth, when they uncovered the truth.

Her steps faltered as she approached, her eyes glistening. Her voice broke as she whispered, “Lila… my baby…”

I forced my face blank. But inside, I seethed.

She dropped to her knees, her hands trembling as they gripped the bars. “You need to apologize,” she whispered urgently, desperation dripping from every word. “To your sister. To the pack. To everyone. Only then…only then can we put this behind us and move forward as a family.”

Family.

The word was so absurd it almost made me laugh.

Family? What a joke.

The moment they turned their backs on me, they ceased to be my family. Not like they were ever my family to begin with. They are carcasses, rotting in my mind, nothing but ghosts I would one day bury in blood.

But I masked my contempt with something softer, weaker.

I let my lip tremble. I lowered my voice to a hushed rasp. “Family…?” I sniffled. “Do you really… believe they’ll ever forgive me? Do you really think that they will forgive me?”

Elizabeth’s eyes filled, her throat bobbing as she swallowed her sobs. “I’m your mother. I know. I’ll make them see. I just want my daughters whole again. Please, baby. Let us end this suffering.”

Oh, this was almost too easy.

I let my shoulders hunch, my expression collapse, twisting into the face of a repentant sinner. My voice cracked as I whispered, “I’ve been reflecting… and I’m ready, Mother. I’ve changed. I'm ready to make amends with everyone. With Ivy…especially Ivy. Blood is blood, right? Please… just give me a chance.”

Her sobs grew louder. Louder than before. Her resolve faltered. I saw it…the crack in her armor.

Perfect.

I crawled forward on one hand inside the cage and pressed my forehead against the bars, tears slipping down my cheeks.

“Look at me, Mother. Look at what they did to me. They cut off my hand. They stripped me of my wolf. All for a mistake… a mistake I made as a child.” My voice broke, dissolving into hiccuping sobs. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Please… help me.”

I clasped my knees together, clamping them tight, and then hitting my forehead on the floor like a child begging for crumbs. I pressed my good hand out toward her, trembling.

The picture I was painting clicked. Elizabeth broke.

She wailed, crumpling to her knees, crawling closer until her face pressed against the cold bars. “Don’t cry, baby. Please don’t cry. Mother’s here. Mother will get you out.”

Inside, I smirked.

How easy it was. How deliciously easy.

Even after I killed her son. Even after I scarred her other child with nightmares that will never fade. Even after I spat on their so-called family name.

She still came crawling.

Because I made her this way. I bent her mind long ago, reshaped her to love me unconditionally, no matter what I did. A mother, yes…but my puppet, my pawn.

Her fumbling fingers scrambled with the keys. My heart thudded, eyes widening as she found the lock, turned it, and the cage creaked open.

Then her arms were around me. Pulling me tight, rocking me as she sobbed into my hair.

And my grin stretched wide against her shoulder.

“You see,” I whispered, my good hand tightening in her hair, yanking her head back as she gasped. “You are just like your daughter, Ivy. Easy to manipulate. Easy prey.”

She screamed as my grip twisted harder, my nails digging into her scalp.

“Oh, mother,” I cooed sweetly, venom dripping from every syllable, “don’t you think it’s time you finally met your darling son Oliver?”