Chapter 133
Kara
But the vodka had stripped away my defenses. The memories came flooding back.
"She's like a pig at the trough," Blake had laughed. "Disgusting."
"Why do we even keep her around?" That was Asher's voice. Bored. Dismissive.
"Mother says she's paying off debt," Cole had answered. "But honestly? She's not even worth the food she eats."
My knees went weak. I grabbed the wall for support.
"And Asher—" Lillian moved in for the kill, her black eyes gleaming with malice. "Sweet, perfect Asher told me you were the worst mistake his parents ever made. That having you in the house was like keeping a tumor—something that needed to be cut out before it poisoned everything. He said you were so fucking pathetic, he fantasized about locking you outside in the snow and letting nature take care of the problem."
Tumor. Cut out. Locking me in the snow.
The bathroom floor. The blizzard. Hypothermia stealing my fingers and toes while they stood warm inside, laughing—
My stomach heaved.
"Oh God," I whispered. "Oh God, I'm going to—"
"Aww, is Carrot gonna cry?" Jade's mock-sympathy was worse than outright cruelty. "Poor baby. Can't handle the truth? That you're nothing but a desperate whore playing dress-up? That the second the mate bond wears off, they're going to see you for the ugly, fat, pathetic—"
I couldn't hold it anymore.
The vodka came up in a violent rush, splashing across all three of their designer dresses in an arc of bile and humiliation.
Lillian shrieked. "YOU FUCKING BITCH!"
Jade jumped back, her face contorted in disgust. "Oh my God, oh my fucking God—"
Nina's scream was pure rage. "You disgusting animal—"
But my wolf surged forward through the alcohol haze—teeth bared, eyes flashing molten gold, a guttural snarl ripping from my throat that didn't sound human.
MINE, she roared at them. MY MATES. MY PACK. MINE.
For one glorious second, all three girls looked genuinely terrified.
Then thunder shook the walls.
"KARA!"
Blake's roar could've woken the dead.
---
"Asher, baby—baby, please—look what this psycho bitch did to my Valentino!" Lillian's voice went high and desperate, reaching for him with vomit-covered hands.
Asher didn't even glance at her.
He pushed past all three girls like they were furniture, scooping me into his arms with such focused intensity that the rest of the world ceased to exist. His black-ebony-and-tobacco scent wrapped around me like armor, drowning out their competing pheromones.
"Little Luna," he murmured against my hair, and his voice shook. "You're okay. I've got you. What happened? Why—"
Because I'm weak. Because I'm exactly what they said. Because I'll never be good enough.
"I just needed the bathroom," I whispered.
"She threw up all over us!" Jade shrilled, tears streaking her makeup. "Your precious mate is a fucking drunk mess who—"
"She's sick." Asher's tone could have frozen Hell. "And if you three vultures hadn't cornered her in a goddamn hallway, you wouldn't be wearing her dinner."
He carried me toward the bathroom, but Lillian's voice followed—shrill, desperate, cruel.
"You told me she was nothing, Asher! You said it! You said she was a fat burden your parents forced on you! You said—"
Asher stopped walking.
His eyes went pure black.
And his Alpha Voice detonated like a fucking nuclear bomb.
"ENOUGH. GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY SIGHT. NOW."
The command wasn't just words—it was physical force wrapped in pheromones. His scent exploded outward in a wave of concentrated black ebony so thick I could taste charcoal on my tongue, mixed with bitter tobacco that bypassed conscious thought and grabbed the hindbrain in an iron fist.
Raw Alpha dominance. Designed to force instant submission.
All three girls' knees buckled like they'd been shot. Their wolves slammed them into the floor—necks bared, bodies shaking, whimpers of terror replacing their earlier viciousness. They scrambled backward on hands and knees, dresses ruined, makeup ruined, pride ruined.
And they fled.
Asher kicked open the bathroom door and set me on the counter with trembling hands. He wet a washcloth, his jaw so tight I could hear his teeth grinding, and carefully wiped my face.
"Blake and Cole are coming," he said softly. "You're safe now, little Luna. I promise. You're safe."
But I wasn't safe.
Because the things Lillian had said—the things they'd all said—weren't lies.
They were memories. Real ones. Things I'd heard and tried to forget.
Fat. Worthless. Tumor. Mistake.
"Did you really say those things?" My voice cracked into pieces. "When you were with them, did you tell them I was—that I was a mistake? A tumor you wanted to cut out?"
The silence stretched like broken bones.
"Yes."
The word hit me like a slap.
Asher's hands were shaking as he cupped my face. Self-loathing poured through the bond in waves so strong they made me dizzy.
"Seven years ago, I said terrible things about you. To them. To my friends. To anyone who would listen." His voice was raw gravel. "I called you every cruel name I could think of. I complained about you existing. I fantasized about—" He stopped, jaw clenching. "About things I will regret for the rest of my life."
Tears spilled down my cheeks.
I knew it. I always knew it.
"But Kara—" He pressed his forehead to mine, and I felt wetness on his cheeks too. "I meant every hateful word back then. And I mean every loving word now. Both versions of me existed. The boy who said those things was real. And so is the man who would burn the world to keep you safe. I can't erase the past. But I'm begging you—begging—let me prove the present is real."
Blake and Cole burst through the door, eyes wild, chests heaving.
"Who the fuck hurt you?" Blake demanded, scanning me for injuries. "I felt your terror—your rage—I swear to God I'll rip apart whoever—"
"The former girlfriends," Asher said flatly. "I handled it."
"Did they fucking touch her?" Blake's eyes were flickering between blue and gold. "Because if they put one goddamn hand on—"
"Blake." Cole's voice was quiet. Deadly. "Look at her."
They both looked.
And I saw myself through their eyes—makeup smeared, vomit on my shoes, tears streaming, whole body shaking like I was coming apart at the seams.
Pathetic. Just like they said.
"Did you all say it?" I heard myself ask. Drunk. Broken. "Blake, did you call me a fat sow? Cole, did you call me a pity fuck? Did you—did all of you wish I was dead?"
The guilty silence answered everything.
Cole's mint-and-ozone scent turned bitter with shame. "Kara, I—"
"We did." Blake's admission was brutal in its honesty. "We said those things and worse. We were fucking monsters who took out our self-hatred on the one person who couldn't fight back."
He dropped to his knees in front of me—six-foot-four of Alpha male kneeling in a pool of my vomit without a single fuck given.