Chapter 2: The Special One

Sofia knew too well what her mother’s anger meant. Whenever Lady Cara was furious, it always circled back to her. It didn’t matter if she had done nothing wrong; somehow, the blame always found its way to her shoulders.

Her heart raced as she followed the maid back into the sitting room. The party was in full swing. Laughter, music, and the smell of pastries and wine filled the air. Everyone was having fun, everyone except Sofia.

She spotted her mother speaking with the head cook and walked toward her, silently praying that maybe, just this once, it wouldn’t end so badly. But the moment Lady Cara’s eyes landed on her, her expression twisted into a scowl.

Before Sofia could say a word, her mother’s hand cracked across her face. The sound echoed over the music, drawing the attention of the guests towards them. Gasps rippled through the crowd. A few guests turned, whispering behind their hands.

Sofia’s hand flew to her cheek, her skin burning where the slap had landed. Her wide eyes filled with disbelief as she stared at Lady Cara, the woman who was supposed to be her mother, her own blood.

“What did I do this time, Mother?” Sofia asked, her lips trembling. She was hurt but also angry. She knew she hadn’t done anything to deserve such public humiliation.

Lady Cara’s glare hardened. “The head cook tells me you helped with the cookies,” she said, her voice cutting through the music. “Why do they taste salty? Was that your way of ruining your sister’s birthday? Did you do it on purpose?”

Gasps echoed around the room. A few wolves chuckled under their breath, enjoying the scene.

Sofia’s eyes widened. “What? No, Mother—I didn’t—”

“Do not lie to me!” Lady Cara snapped, her anger rising to its peak. “Always jealous. Always trying to spoil things that don’t belong to you. You can’t even bake without making a mess of it.”

Sofia’s throat tightened as her eyes darted around the room. Every pair of eyes seemed to be against her. Her eyes met with Damien, who stood beside Lola, and like everyone, he had that look of disgust in his eyes. Sofia’s heart broke. She didn’t care what the others thought of her, how they looked at her right at that moment—she only cared what Damien thought of her, how he looked at her.

“I didn’t mean to—” she whispered, but her voice broke before she could finish.

“Oh shut up.” Lady Cara lifted her hand again, ready to strike. Sofia flinched, her body tense, waiting for the hit. But before it could land, a strong voice stopped her.

“Enough.”

The room went quiet. Damien stepped forward. His eyes locked on Lady Cara, and for a moment, something sharp flashed in them. He hated seeing Sofia slapped in front of everyone. Hated the way she stood there, holding her cheek, shaking. Yes, he hated her—or at least, that was what he told himself. He told himself he hated her with every fiber of his being, but watching her get humiliated was something he wasn’t able to stand and watch.

He forced his face to stay cold. “This is Lola’s birthday,” Damien said evenly. “And here we are, turning it into a show about the wrong daughter.”

Whispers spread quickly. Lady Cara’s hand dropped back to her side, her jaw tight.

Damien’s gaze swept the room. “Sofia doesn’t deserve the attention. If you keep dragging her into this, people will forget who we’re really celebrating.”

Sofia’s chest twisted. His words hurt more than her mother’s hits. She wanted to scream at him, to ask why he despised her so much. Didn’t he remember? Didn’t he once defend her from everyone else? Now he was the one looking at her with disgust.

But Damien kept his mask in place. He couldn’t let anyone see the truth—that he’d stepped in because he couldn’t watch her be slapped again. “Now,” he said firmly, “enough distractions. I have an announcement to make.”

The crowd shifted with excitement. Lola’s face lit up. She slid her arm through his proudly, smiling at everyone like she already knew what he was about to say.

The room buzzed with whispers, everyone eager for Damien’s words. He exhaled deeply, his expression unreadable. “Since we’re all gathered here today,” he said, his voice calm, “I think it’s the perfect time to make something clear.” He glanced at Lola, who beamed up at him like she already owned the moment. “Lola and I are officially dating,” Damien announced.

The hall erupted in cheers and applause. Wolves clapped; some howled in excitement. Cameras flashed as though this was the moment they had all been waiting for.

Sofia’s breath caught. The words hit her like a knife to the chest. Damien bent his head down, and before the crowd, he pressed his lips to Lola’s. The hall went wild—cheering, laughing, congratulating. Someone shouted, “Perfect couple!” and the chant caught, voices rising over the music.

Sofia couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Her cheek stung from the slap, but the ache in her chest was worse. She stared at Damien, kissing Lola, holding her like she was the only girl in the world. Her vision blurred. She blinked fast, refusing to let tears fall where everyone could see. The celebration around her grew louder, but Sofia felt herself shrinking into the shadows, smaller than ever.

At that moment, she wished the ground would open and swallow her whole. She didn’t want to live through this, to endure the boy she had loved all her life kissing her sister before her eyes. She would have given anything not to witness it.

As usual, she became invisible as everyone went up to Damien and Lola with congratulations.

Sofia remained at the spot where she stood and blankly stared. Her lungs were finding it difficult to supply air. She was having difficulties breathing properly as she watched the scene before her. “Breathe… Sofia… breathe.” She whispered to herself, trying to pull herself together. But then—his eyes found her. Across the sea of faces, across the blur of bodies pressing around him, Damien’s gaze slid past the crowd and landed on her.

For one long second, he looked straight at Sofia. Her heart stopped. His expression was unreadable, cold to anyone watching, but there was something in his eyes, something confusing and conflicted, that only she could catch. Worry? Regret? Or was she imagining it again, the way she had imagined so many things before?

Her chest clenched. She wanted to believe there was still something of the boy she once knew, the boy who had defended her, laughed with her, and almost kissed her once on the training ground. But before she could even take a breath, Damien blinked and looked away. He turned back to Lola, sealing their lips for a deep, passionate kiss. The crowd roared again, excitement buzzing in the air.

Sofia couldn’t stand it anymore. She turned and ran out of the hall with a few eyes following her. She jumped up the stairs. Her feet carried her on instinct, straight to her room.

The balcony doors stood open, the night air spilling in. Sofia stumbled toward them, clutching her chest as though it might hold her heart together. She gripped the railing, sucking in sharp breaths of cool air, desperate to calm the hurtful feelings raging inside her. But it didn’t work.

The tears she had fought so hard to hold back finally broke free. They spilled hot and fast down her cheeks. She pressed a hand to her mouth to stop the sound, but sobs still escaped. The boy she had loved for as long as she could remember had kissed her sister—claimed her in front of the whole pack—and she had been forced to stand there and watch.

She bowed her head, her shoulders shaking, whispering through her tears. “Don’t cry… Stop crying. They don’t deserve your tears.”

She froze when she heard the soft creak behind her. At first, she told herself it was nothing, but then came the footsteps. The click of heels. The air filled with the sweet, heavy scent of roses.

Slowly, she turned—and froze. Her breath caught, her body stiffening as her eyes landed on the one person she never wanted to face again.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep