Unfavoured Daughter

At her father's command, the guards and servants immediately obeyed.

"Lock her up in her room and starve her. Do not give her anything to eat or drink until the next day."

"Yes, Alpha," they responded in unison, their voices sharp with unquestioning obedience.

Elara stood frozen, her stomach twisting painfully at his words. Hunger had already weakened her to the point of exhaustion, her body felt like a hollow shell, her limbs heavy, her head pounding. She hadn't eaten or drunk anything all day, not because she didn't want to, but because she hadn't been allowed to.

Her father had confined her the moment he decided she needed to be "questioned" about what happened to Sophia. She had sat for hours in silence, stomach cramping, throat parched, growing weaker by the second. Yet, despite knowing all this, he still issued his command so effortlessly, as if denying her basic sustenance was no different from brushing away an insect.

Did he even care if she died?

No. Of course not.

She was certain he wouldn't bat an eye if she wasted away in that room. In fact, he might even prefer it.

The realization sent a wave of bitterness crashing through her chest, so sharp it nearly suffocated her.

Heartless.

That was the only way to describe him.

Her legs wobbled slightly as the servants and her father's gamma approached her. They didn't ask, didn't hesitate, they simply grabbed her by the arms and yanked her forward as if she were a lifeless object. The rough handling made her vision blur for a moment, dizziness washing over her from the lack of food and the force of the slap her father had delivered earlier. The side of her face still burned, her cheek swollen, the imprint of his fingers seared into her skin.

Even her wolf, Mia, wasn't responding.

Elara could feel her deep in the back of her mind, faint and silent, like a distant echo. Normally, Mia would have at least whispered something, even if it was just a weak protest or a growl of defiance. But now? Nothing.

Maybe she was just as drained. Maybe she was too tired *too hungry, too broken* to do anything.

The thought terrified her. A wolf's presence was a part of a werewolf's strength, without it, she felt….. alone.

As they dragged her toward her room, her father's cold voice rang out again.

"Make sure you guard her door all night. Don't let her step an inch outside. And she is not allowed to attend the Moon Goddess ritual tonight."

Elara scoffed bitterly to herself. Attend the Moon Goddess ritual?

Did they actually think she cared about that?

Hell, if she had a choice, she wouldn't participate in anything related to the Moon Goddess. Not now. Not ever.

She despised the goddess.

If the Moon Goddess truly existed, then she was cruel. Heartless. No different from the people in this house.

What kind of deity would curse an innocent child with a fate like this? What kind of goddess would place someone in a family where they were unloved, unwanted, despised?

Elara had long since stopped believing the Moon Goddess had any favor for her.

Finally, they reached her room, and the guards shoved her inside before slamming the door shut behind her. A loud click followed, the unmistakable sound of the lock sliding into place.

Silence.

Her arms felt numb where they had gripped her, her head throbbed, and her stomach clenched painfully from hunger. But the worst of it, the real pain wasn't physical.

It was the ache deep inside her chest, the crushing weight of loneliness, anger, and despair.

Her parents had never cared for her. That was something she had always known, but experiencing it like this watching the way they scrambled to comfort Sophia, how quickly they lashed out at her without hesitation, made it cut deeper than before.

She barely made it to her bed before her legs gave out beneath her. She sank onto the mattress, her body trembling with exhaustion.

And then, all the emotions she had been holding back* the frustration, the rage, the despair* came pouring out in hot, unstoppable tears.

She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed.

If this was what a family was supposed to be, she would rather have none at all.

The pain of hunger and thirst was nothing compared to the hollow ache in her chest. She had spent years enduring their cruelty, hoping, praying that one day, her parents would look at her and see something worth loving. But that day had never come. It never would.

By the time her sobs subsided, her eyes were swollen and puffy, her throat raw from crying. She quickly wiped her face with the sleeve of her dress, forcing herself to look composed. She didn't want anyone to see how broken she truly was.

Then—

A knock at the door.

Elara stiffened, her heart hammering in her chest.

She quickly stood and walked over, trying the handle out of habit. It didn't budge. Of course. She was still locked in.

She pressed her ear against the door, listening closely. There were whispers outside, muffled voices she couldn't quite make out.

Then, the lock clicked.

The door creaked open, revealing a figure standing in the dim hallway.

Sofia.

Elara's brows furrowed. Her gaze swept over her younger sister, taking in the sight before her.

Wasn't this the same person who had been sick and weak just moments ago? The same girl who had been too frail to even sit up on her own during their father's questioning?

Yet, now she stood before her, looking perfectly fine. Strong. Steady.

Something wasn't right.

Sophia must have seen the suspicion in Elara's eyes because she immediately spoke.

"I'm feeling a little better now… The medications I took earlier helped," she explained softly.

Elara let out a cold, bitter scoff.

"Oh? And yet you weren't 'a little better' before father questioned me? You only miraculously recovered after he was done?"

She watched as Sofia's eyes immediately turned red, brimming with unshed tears. Without warning, she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Elara in a tight embrace.

Elara went rigid.

Shock flooded through her, not because of the hug itself, but because she knew, she knew, that this was all an act.

How could someone who had never been to acting school pretend so flawlessly? If she hadn't overheard Sofia's private conversations a few months ago, she would have believed this.

But she had heard them.

She had heard her own sister, the girl she had once loved unconditionally, laughing and scheming behind her back.

And no matter how good Sofia's act was, Elara would never fall for it again.

Just then, Sofia's soft, trembling voice filled the air.

"Sister, I know you must be angry because you were punished, but….. it's just that Dad loves me so much. And when he thought you had done something to me, it made him very angry. It's only because he loves me, and Mom does too."

At first, the words seemed harmless. Even comforting.

But Elara wasn't a fool.

She heard the underlying meaning loud and clear.

Sofia was the loved one. The favored one. The cherished daughter.

And what did that make Elara?

Nothing.

Just an unwanted existence.

As Elara stared into her sister's seemingly pitiful face, she felt nothing but pure, raw anger.

How could she have been so blind?

For years, she had convinced herself that as long as Sofia loved her, it would be enough. That even if her parents didn't want her, her sister's love would make up for it.

She had done everything for Sofia. Loved her, protected her, sacrificed for her.

Only to discover that all this time, Sofia had been the manipulator.

How foolish had she been?

How heartbroken had she felt when she realized the truth?

At the time, she had done everything possible to fix things, to prove herself, to make her sister love her again.

But now she knew.

She had never been loved in the first place.

Elara's fingers curled tightly around the edge of her blanket as she forced herself to accept the bitter truth. Sophia would never change. No matter how much she wished for her younger sister to love her, to feel even a fraction of the affection Elara had given so freely, it would never happen. She had once believed in their bond, once clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, Sophia's cruelty was a misunderstanding, an accident, a mistake that could be undone.

But she was wrong.

Sophia was a manipulator, a master of deception who thrived on the suffering of others, and Elara had been her greatest fool. She had wasted years trying to prove herself, trying to be worthy of love in a family that had already made up their minds about her. And now, as she looked at Sophia's face, pretending to be concerned, all she felt was pure anger and hatred.

"Since you know they love you, why aren't you with them?" Elara's voice was sharper than she intended, each word laced with resentment. "Why are you here instead?"

Sophia's lips parted slightly, as though taken aback, but she recovered quickly, forcing a weak smile onto her face. "I… I came to check up on you. I felt you must be feeling sad and miserable because of what happened," she said, her voice hesitant, coated with honeyed sweetness.

Elara noticed it instantly. Sophia was enjoying this. She wanted to see Elara broken, defeated.

Biting back the sharp pain in her chest, Elara forced a smirk. "Why would I be sad? Damn, no. I feel happy seeing you like this. I feel happy from the idea that you're sick. This punishment means nothing to me." She let out a sharp breath, as if the very idea of suffering over this was laughable. "I don't care."

But that was a lie. A pathetic, desperate lie.

She did care. She cared so much it made her feel sick. She was affected. She was hurt, betrayed, and tired of always being on the losing end.

For a brief moment, Sophia's face twisted with something unreadable—was it shock? Doubt? Whatever it was, it was gone as quickly as it came. Her eyes flickered with calculation instead. She knew the truth.