2

TWO

The front door creaked open, announcing my arrival home. My heart sank when I saw Kelly at the bottom of the stairs, wearing a dress that wasn't hers. That dress was mine. More than that, it was a piece of my soul, the only memory I had of my mother before she died. I can still clearly recall the time when my mother fell ill. It all happened so quickly, and I was too young to understand what was happening. My father didn't seem to care much, and whenever I asked my mom about it, she would brush it off and tell me not to dwell on it. She insisted that everything was fine, but deep down, I knew it wasn't.

As I looked at Kelly, my anger surged. She had altered the dress in ways that completely changed its style. It had been a long gown before, but now there were cuts and additions that made it almost unrecognizable. My blood boiled as I realized that she had ruined something important to me.

"Kelly," I said, my voice trembling with emotion, "that's my dress. You have no right to be wearing it."

Her lips curled into a sneer as she looked me up and down. "Oh, this old thing? It's not like you ever wear it. Plus, it looks way better on me." Growing up, my step-sister Kelly had always been distant and cold towards me. I never understood why she seemed to hate me so much. My father had married her mother when I was only 12 years old, and Kelly was a year older than me. Despite the fact that we were now part of the same family, she never treated me like a sister. Instead, she made it clear that she despised my presence in her life.

Anger surged through me, overriding any sense of caution or restraint. "You went into my room and took it from my private luggage! How dare you!"

Kelly scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "You're just jealous because you know I'm right. You've always been so possessive of your things, Freya. It's pathetic."

"Enough!" I shouted, unable to contain myself any longer. But as if on cue, our parents walked in, their expressions a mixture of surprise and disapproval.

    "Girls, what is going on here?" my father asked, his brow furrowed.

"Freya's just throwing a fit because I borrowed a dress," Kelly answered with feigned innocence, her eyes wide and guileless.

"Is that true, Freya?" my stepmother asked, eyeing me with skepticism.

"Mom gave me that dress before she died," I whispered, trying to hold back tears. "It's all I have left of her."

"Freya, we've talked about this," my father said, his voice strained. "Your mother is gone, and we need to move forward. It's just a dress. Kelly is your sister and you must treat her as such."

  "But--" before I could respond, my stepmother's hand came down hard against my cheek, the slap echoing through the room. "How dare you speak like that to your sister!" she hissed, her eyes cold and unforgiving.

"Elaine," my father interjected weakly, but she cut him off with a glare.

"Your daughter needs to learn some respect for her family," she spat, turning back to me. "You will not cause any more trouble with Kelly, do I make myself clear?"

Numb from the shock of her slap, I could only nod, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes.

"Good," she said, her tone icy. "Now go to your room."

As I turned to leave, my father caught my eye. For a moment, I thought he might say something in my defense, but instead, he just sighed and looked away. My heart sank as I realized that he would never stand up for me, not when it came to his new wife and her daughter.

The door to my room slammed shut behind me, and all the emotions I'd been holding back came flooding out. Sobs wracked my body as I collapsed onto my bed, burying my face in the pillow. Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn't my mother still be here, to hold me and tell me everything would be alright?

In between gasps for breath, I whispered into the damp fabric, "Mum, I miss you so much. I didn't even get to say goodbye properly. They took your body away to the morgue before I could see you one last time. It's not fair."

I knew that life was never going to be the same after Mum's passing, but I never imagined it would be this painful, this lonely. As the tears continued to stream down my face, soaking the pillow beneath me, I made a silent promise to my mother: I would find a way to be strong, even if it meant facing the cruelty of this new family alone.

The door creaked open, and the unmistakable sound of Kelly's high heels clicking against the hardwood floor made my stomach churn. I quickly wiped away the last remnants of my tears and sat up, bracing myself for whatever cruelty she had come to inflict upon me.

"Freya," she drawled with a sickeningly sweet smile. "Since you're not doing anything useful right now, I've decided that you can wash my bags and clothes for me." She tossed a pile of designer clothing onto my bed, wrinkling her nose as if my room was some sort of repugnant dungeon.

   "Excuse me?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady despite the anger bubbling inside me.

"Did I stutter?" she retorted, her smile morphing into a sneer. "Wash them. And do it properly, or else."

  "Or else what?" I challenged, tired of being pushed around.

"Or else," she leaned in, her eyes flashing with malice, "I'll make your life even more miserable than it already is. Trust me, I have ways."

  "Fine," I muttered, clenching my fists at my sides. "I'll do it."

"Good," she said, smirking triumphantly. "Oh, and by the way, I'm auditioning to be one of the Alpha King's breeders. Can you imagine? Me, with all that power and prestige? It's going to be fabulous."

With that, she sauntered out of my room, leaving me fuming at the injustice of it all. As I stared at the pile of expensive clothes on my bed, a spark of determination ignited within me. I couldn't take this anymore – the humiliation, the constant bullying, the feeling of being trapped in a house where I was unwanted and unloved.

If Kelly could audition to be one of the Alpha King's breeders, then so could I. It was a desperate plan, and I knew that there were risks involved – but anything would be better than living like this. For the first time in a long time, I felt a glimmer of hope flicker in my chest.

"Alright, Mum," I whispered, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. "I'm going to do it. I'll find a way out of this house, out of this life. For both of us."

As I began folding Kelly's clothes, preparing them for the wash, I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to be free from her and my stepmother's tyranny. No matter what it took, I vowed to make that dream a reality.

I would find my way to the palace and join the audition.