Chapter 3
That afternoon, the pack doctor called Isla in for a follow–up.
No one came to help her.
So she dragged herself out of bed, body aching and weak, one hand gripping the wall for balance.
As she passed the room next door, she caught a glimpse through the open door–her parents and Rhett crowded around Arabella’s bedside, fussing over her like she was made of glass.
1
Regis was fluffing her pillows while Viviana handed her pieces of sliced mango from a crystal bowl, cooing over how pale she looked.
Arabella giggled, her voice sugar–sweet.
Arabella gave a soft laugh, playing it up just enough. “Mom, Dad, you’ve been spoiling me for days… Poor Isla probably thinks you’ve forgotten she exists.”
“Oh honey, don’t worry about her,” Regis said without even looking up. “She’ll be fine. That girl’s always been a lone wolf–doesn’t need anyone. This stew’s for you. No sense in giving it to someone who wouldn’t appreciate it anyway.
Viviana nodded along without missing a beat, like agreeing was just second nature.
Rhett brushed a stray lock from Arabella’s forehead, eyes warm enough to melt steel.
”
“Take it easy, beautiful,” he crooned. “The doctor said you fainted from stress. Isla’s never cared about you–not to snag your mate. Don’t waste your sympathy on her.”
even
when she tried
Out in the hallway, Isla heard every dismissive word—and smiled anyway. A small, brittle curve that felt like it hollowed her chest from the inside out.
Seafood allergy. She’d had it her whole life.
Still, crab and shrimp showed up at every family meal because Arabella loved them. One bite would leave Isla gasping for air, so she lived on plain noodles and got scolded for being “picky.”
Arabella’s public mask was all doting sister sweetness. Behind closed doors it was barbed comments, swinging fists, and crocodile tears that always landed Isla on her knees in the rain while their parents played judge and jury
Long ago, Isla stopped fighting back. Whatever Arabella wanted, she surrendered. All she wanted now was a quiet life- rivalries, no Rhett.
–
-no love, no
After her checkup she took her prescriptions and headed for the dispensary across the courtyard, cutting through the hospital garden. Halfway past the fountain, Arabella stepped into her path.
“Weli, look at you–already strolling around,” she said, mock sweet. “Guess you weren’t dying after all.”
Her smile sharpened. “Mom and Dad are with me, and Rhett’s never going to believe your sob story about being his real mate. So quit while you’re behind.”
Isla’s reply was steady. “Relax. I’m over Rhett. Everything you want is yours.”
Arabella’s grin turned vicious. “As if I’ve ever needed your permission. You’ve been living off my leftovers since day one.”
Isla started to walk away, but a familiar figure appeared at the end of the corridor–Rhett. Arabella’s eyes flashed. She yanked Isla’s wrist and dragged them both straight into the fountain.
Neither of them could swim. Water exploded around them as they flailed. Isla’s stitches tore; dark red blossomed through the pool. She coughed, lungs flooding, body too battered to fight the pull of the water.
Just before her vision tunneled, she saw Rhett dive in–only to surge past her and haul Arabella out. Arabella clung to him, playing the helpless damsel.
“She slipped and took me with her!” she cried, stealing a glance at Isla still sinking, “Please, Rhett–she’s my sister. Help her.”
Chapter 3
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Rhett’s jaw locked. “Enough, Arabella. It’s another stunt. She wanted sympathy–or to drown you trying. Let her stay down there until
she learns.”
Every syllable sliced through the water and into Isla’s heart. Her sight blurred, lungs burned, limbs shook. And as Rhett carried Arabella away, the world tilted, darkened-
-and disappeared.
Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.