Chapter 8 How dare you?
SOMA
Sheila and Maeve’s cars are parked in the driveway when I reach home. That puts my senses on high alert as I tiptoe to the back door, hoping to get inside without any trouble.
But luck has never been on my side, and today is the same thing.
The second I open the door, a hand smacks right into my face. My vision blurs, and I stumble backward, blinking a few times before Aunt Helen’s angry face comes into view. She always hits harder than my cousins, and this time is no different.
She yanks me into the kitchen, and someone shuts the door behind me, blocking out my escape. When she lifts her hand again, I collapse to the floor, my body curled in on itself, with my hands raised to protect my head.
“Pathetic,” she spits without hitting me. “Useless.”
Hot tears burn behind my eyes, and my cheeks burn with so much awareness I’m afraid to touch them. Mason’s words rush back to haunt me.
Can I really bear this?
“How dare you, Somadina?” she asks. I’m not sure what I’ve done, but I know nothing I say will satisfy her, so I keep my mouth sealed. “I just got a call from the palace, and guess whose report they gave me? Yours. It’s always you.”
“It won’t happen again,” I cry. “I’m sorry.”
“The Alpha Princes,” she shrieks. “All of them were there, and you thought it was a good idea to challenge them? What were you thinking? How dare you?”
My hands lower, and I whisper, “That’s not what happened. I swear. You have to believe me.”
“Believe you?”
She crouches beside me, her hands closing around the front of my dress until I’m struggling to breathe. Eyes closed, I wait for death.
It’s finally happening. I’ll die today. I should have listened to Mason and run with him.
“I should kill you right now. Right here. Save the whole family from being punished for your—”
“Mom, wait,” Sheila cut in. I open one eye slowly, then the other. Sheila pries her mom’s hands off my dress, and I sck air into my lungs greedily. Instead of relief or gratitude, I feel only fear. “Not so fast, okay? Tomorrow is the ceremony, and we’ll need someone to help us get ready. Plus, we promised Princess Sienna that we would send a volunteer to assist with serving the guests. If she doesn’t show up…”
“After the stunt she pulled today, I doubt anyone in the palace wants to be around her,” Aunt Helen argues. “Wasn’t she supposed to just join them to decorate?”
Maeve pouts and stomps her feet. “Mom.”
“Fine.” Aunt Helen turns to me, her voice dripping with hate and bitter promise. “Don’t mess this up. Because if you do…”
Aunt Helen chuckles and straightens up, her threat clear. I might have escaped death today, but if I mess up again tomorrow, she’ll send me to my parents.
Murder might be forbidden in our pack, but I’m not important enough for anyone to care or raise a case at the Royal court if she kills me.
“She won’t,” Sheila says, her voice holding a conviction that makes me wish her mom had killed me. “Just let her go.”
Maeve sneers. “If you embarrass us again tomorrow.” I’m older than the two of them, but many don’t know due to how they treat me. It doesn’t help that I’m more malnourished than healthy. They can easily overpower me. “You won’t have to worry about my mom or sister. I’ll end you myself. Are we clear?”
My head lowers even more. “Yes.”
With a huff, she stomps away. I flinch when my eyes meet Sheila’s cruel ones before she follows her sister.
“Get started on dinner,” Aunt Helen mutters. “Make sure the lamb is cooked to perfection, or you’ll be punished.”
Because I’m beneath her, she steps over me, reminding me how worthless I am. Slowly, I rise to my feet. But instead of heading to the fridge to check for what we need for dinner, I bolt out of the door and run like I’ve got a rogue on my heels.
The wind lashes at me as I race past their cars and my broken bicycle, but I don’t stop. Neither do I look back. My muscles ache, and my vision blurs, but I push myself harder.
One name continues to ring incessantly in my mind. Mason. I need to find Mason.
He was right. Life won’t automatically get better for me because my cousins will be away at the academy. Aunt Helen might not be home often, but the force of her hits, however infrequent they are, might be exactly what sends me to my grave.
No matter what happens, I can’t die here. I won’t die here.