Chapter 67: The Real Monsters

Ivy 

Icy silence settled over the room, stretching between Lila and me like razor wire, each second slicing deeper into old wounds. My heart pounded so hard I thought it might break through my ribs. Her words hung in the air, venomous and final.

What makes you think I like you now, Aria?

I had expected cruelty—this was Lila, after all—but hearing my old name from her lips felt like a blade twisting in my chest. Aria. Not Ivy. That name belonged to the girl who had died long ago, buried beneath betrayal, rejection, and loss.

How many times do I have to remind her not to call me that?!

I stiffened, my jaw tightening as I met her gaze. “Don’t call me that. Ever.”

She smiled, but it was sharp, all teeth. “Why? Does it hurt? Does it remind you of everything you lost?” Her eyes gleamed with something dark—satisfaction, perhaps. Or maybe something worse. “Good.”

My nails bit into my palms. I refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing me break. Not again. I had clawed my way out of hell—out of that nightmare with the Keeper—only to wake up back here, in the place I hated more than anything. My old pack. My old prison.

And yet, the real chains had always been her. My twin.

“Why did you help? Why did you show Connor where I was being held?” My voice was low, steady, but it carried the weight of everything I had endured. “If you hate me so much… why not let me die?”

For the briefest moment, I thought I saw something flicker in her eyes—regret? No. That was too human. Too kind. Whatever it was, it vanished almost instantly, replaced by that same cold detachment.

“I didn’t do it for you.” Her voice dropped, low and dangerous. “I did it for me.”

I frowned, my mind racing. Of course, there was always an angle with Lila. There always had been. My body tensed, every muscle on high alert. “What do you mean?”

She stepped closer, the dim light from the room casting shadows across her face, making her look almost otherworldly. Her voice softened, but the malice was still there, coiling beneath the surface.

“You think I wanted you to come back and take over the happy little role you always dreamed of? The perfect Luna? Connor’s mate?” Her lip curled in disdain. “Please. I brought you back because if you died… everything would have collapsed. Our parents are barely holding on to the hatred they have for you. They blame you for—”

“Oliver,” I cut in, my voice cracking despite my best efforts. Our brother. The pain of his name was like glass in my throat, but I couldn’t say it. Not now. Not in front of her.

Her eyes narrowed, her expression hardening. “He’s dead because of you. You know that. They know that. And if you had died without getting the punishment you truly deserve from them, that would be so disappointing.”

The words struck me like a slap, but I didn’t flinch. I had grown used to this—to being their scapegoat. It had started the day he died, and it had never stopped.

“Am I even alive to you and your parents? I died those years ago, remember? Aria? You buried her with your own hands, Lila! All of you!”

She laughed, the sound brittle and sharp. “Say that all you want, Aria—oh, sorry—Ivy,” she sneered. “You have blood on your hands. I won't let you die easily when fate is not yet ready to serve the reward you deserve for being a murderer.”

How could she show me this side of her after following me for days, pleading that we become sisters again? What changed?

My chest tightened. The memory of that day threatened to drown me—the cold river, blood, his tiny hand slipping from mine, the desperate screams that no one had heard. 

I had relived that scene every night since. The guilt was my shadow, clinging to me no matter how far I ran.

“You weren’t there,” I said, my voice trembling with anger. “You don’t know what happened.”

She leaned in, her breath hot against my face. “I know he’s dead. That’s all that matters.”

The room felt smaller, the walls closing in like the nightmare I had escaped. My pulse quickened. I needed air. I needed to get out. But I was trapped—with her, with the past, with all the things I had buried and hoped would never resurface.

I pushed past her, moving to the window. The cold glass against my fingertips was a fleeting comfort. Beyond the trees, the pack grounds stretched out like a cruel reminder. This place had never been my home. It had been my cage.

And now I was back in it.

“I didn’t ask you to help me,” I muttered, more to myself than to her.

“No,” Lila said from behind me, her tone laced with bitterness. “But you owe me. And I intend to collect.”

I turned slowly, dread pooling in my stomach. “What do you want?”

She smiled—the kind of smile that had always meant trouble when we were younger. The kind that made me want to run.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Before I could press her, a knock at the door shattered the tension. I tensed. Connor. Or one of his guards. Either way, I knew the brief illusion of privacy was over.

Lila’s mask snapped back into place—charming, composed, the perfect pack princess. She stepped back, folding her arms as if this had been nothing more than a pleasant chat between sisters.

The door and I found Leah standing there, concern etched across her face. Her eyes flicked to Lila briefly before landing on me.

“Alpha wants me to bring you to his office,” she said softly.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. My throat felt tight, my heart heavy with everything I had just endured. As I stepped past Lila, I felt her gaze burning into my back.

This isn’t over.

———

Connor was waiting for me in his office, his broad frame tense as he leaned against his desk. The air was thick with his scent—cedar, musk, and something uniquely him.

He looked up as I entered, his eyes softening for a brief moment before hardening again. “How did it go?” he asked, his voice low.

I hesitated. I could tell him the truth—that Lila was as dangerous as ever, that she had plans I couldn’t yet see. But something stopped me. Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was the need to prove I could handle this on my own. Or maybe it was the small, broken part of me that still hoped Lila wasn’t beyond saving.

“It was fine,” I lied.

He studied me for a moment, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t push. Instead, he stepped closer, his hand brushing against mine—just for a second. It was enough to send a jolt through me. The thoughts of what we could have had—rushed to the surface.

But that was before. Before he had chosen the pack and Lila over me. Before he had let them tear me apart.

“Ivy…” His voice was softer now. “I need you to know—I won’t let anything happen to you as long as you're here. Not again.”

I wanted to believe him. I really did. But trust was a luxury I could no longer afford.

“You already did,” I whispered, and before he could respond, I turned and walked away.

———

That night, sleep was a cruel stranger. Every time I closed my eyes, I was back in the Keeper’s grip, back in that dark, rotting hell. And when I wasn’t, I was in the forest, my brother’s hand slipping from mine over and over again.

When the sun finally crept over the horizon, I was exhausted, but there was no rest to be found here. Not in this place. Not with these people.

And not with Lila watching my every move.

As I stepped into the hallway, I caught a glimpse of her down the corridor. She was talking to her parents. My—her mother’s face was cold, the father’s gaze filled with quiet resentment. Neither of them looked my way.

I was nothing to them. Worse than nothing. A murderer in their eyes.

I have to leave as soon as possible. There's no place for me here again. Not with them lurking in the shadows.

Because if I had learned anything from my time with them while I was growing up, it was this:

The real monsters don’t always hide in the dark.

Sometimes, they wear the face of family.