They focused all of their attention, care, and love on her from the moment she entered this house.
But what happened the first time I shifted?
They forgot. Completely.
No one witnessed my transformation. Nobody celebrated. There’s no ritual. There are no guests. Not a single word of congratulations.
Vivienne, on the other hand, received half of the invitations. They created a spectacle out of it.
I looked at Arthur, tears welling in my eyes, my voice shaking as I choked out the words:
“Arthur, do you even remember the first time I shifted?”
“Not only did all of you forget it completely-you didn’t even care! No one said a word. No one asked me how it went, how I felt, or if I was scared.”
“It was supposed to be the most important moment in a werewolf’s life… and I went through it alone.”
Arthur appeared to have remembered something, as I noticed guilt flashing in his eyes for a brief moment.
But his words remained cold. Ice-cold.
“Why are you being so petty?” he demanded.
“If you’d just admitted your mistakes and tried to make up for them, do you think our parents would’ve stayed angry for this long?”
Right then, the front door opened. I could hear their voices even before they stepped inside.
My parents.
“How dare you mention your first shift!” my father exclaimed. “You’re shameless!”
“You don’t deserve a ritual—not after what you did to Vivienne!”
His fury hit me like a tsunami. His wolf was so close to the surface that I could feel it wanting to rip me apart.
“Vivienne’s entire ritual was ruined because of you! But did she blame you? No. She begged us to forgive you. She cried so hard she fainted!”
“And you don’t even feel a hint of guilt? Apologise to her! Now!”
Vivienne recovered from her sadness, stepped closer, and forced a pitiful smile. Her voice, barely above a whisper, carried a trace of understanding when she said: ”
“You don’t need to apologise, Liora. But… Could you please bake me the walnut cake? I’ve been craving it for a long time.”
Mom’s face softened instantly, lighting up with misplaced warmth.
“Liora, look at how nice Vivienne is! She’s giving you an opportunity to make things right. Why aren’t you taking it?”
I looked at Vivienne’s fake smile, my voice cold.
“Didn’t you say you were allergic to nuts?”
“Are you attempting to frame me for trying to kill you? You insist that I bake you a walnut cake just so you can accuse me of poisoning you?”
Vivienne’s face turned pale as she heard my words.
She rushed over and grabbed my hands, pleading in a pitiful voice.
“I apologise, Liora. I forgot to tell you that I’m allergic to nuts.
“When I was a puppy, I fell off the roof, and my memory hasn’t been the best since. I actually forgot!”
“Please don’t be angry with me, Liora. Can you just make a different flavour for me?”
Her fake, scheming smile made my stomach turn.
I remember the first time I made walnut cake for her; I had no idea she was allergic.
I did it entirely out of kindness and sincerity, hoping to form a friendship.
