Six Months Later—Human Clan.
"Father, I will not marry him. I will not marry that monster!"
Amara's voice cracked through the living room, sharp with restrained fury. Her hands clenched at her sides as she stood before the man who had just pronounced her fate as casually as one would announce the weather.
Anthony Caldwell rose from the couch at once, the ornate invitation letter still clenched in his fist. The wax seal bearing the insignia of the Werewolf Crown caught the light like an unblinking eye.
"You do not get to refuse," he snapped. "This decision has already been made."
Matilda Caldwell sat rigidly on the sofa, elegant and composed. Though every curl of her hair was in place, a faint frown tugged at her brows as her gaze flicked anxiously between her husband and the daughter standing before them.
Amara laughed, bitter and incredulous. "Made by whom? By you?" Her lips curved into a cold smile. "Or did you forget, Father. Have you forgotten already that I am no longer a Caldwell?"
Her words cut through the air, shifting the room into a suffocating silence. Even the ticking clock on the far wall seemed too loud.
"You were very clear, weren't you?" Amara continued, her voice steady now, sharpened by months of humiliation. "The day the results came back. The day you looked at me like I was a stranger in my own home and severed our ties."
Anthony's jaw tightened.
"I am not your blood," she went on. "Not yours. Not Mother's. Which means I am not obligated to serve as a marriage tribute for our clan." Her gaze burned as she lifted her chin "But if a daughter must be sent, then send Lila."
Matilda inhaled sharply as Anthony exploded.
"Enough!" he roared, slamming his fist against the armrest. "Do not ever drag your sister into this."
Amara's gaze didn't waver. "Why not?" she sneered. "She is your only biological daughter now, isn't she?"
Anthony's eyes hardened like steel. "You are a Caldwell," he said coldly. "My first daughter, unless and until I publicly declare otherwise. And I have not."
For a moment, Amara simply stared at him, then she laughed. It slipped out of her chest before she could stop it—soft at first, then edged with disbelief.
'How shameless!' she thought.
This was the same man who had discarded her without hesitation. Stripped her of her name, her place, her identity, the moment it became inconvenient to keep her. And now he claimed her again—not as a daughter, but as a shield.
"Father, you're amazing," Amara said quietly. "Truly amazing. Did you feel anything at all when you denied me? Or am I your daughter again only because you need someone to throw to the wolves?"
"Amara, please—" Matilda stood with pleading eyes.
"Don't, mother," Amara said, her eyes glistening. "I already know you will never take my side."
Matilda froze for a heartbeat, not knowing how to react to the accusation.
"I will not accept this marriage," Amara said firmly. Then she added, almost daring her father, "Aren't you afraid? Afraid of what will happen if the truth comes out—that I'm not a trueborn Caldwell?"
Anthony cut in almost immediately. "The first consequence," he said coldly, "is that you will pay with your life."
The words struck harder than any slap. He was threatening her—actually telling her what would happen if she tried to run her mouth.
Amara's breath hitched. Tears spilt over as she stared at him in disbelief. "Are you… threatening me?" she whispered with clear understanding.
Matilda moved quickly, placing a hand on Anthony's arm. "Anthony. Calm down."
Amara wiped her tears with the back of her hand. "And did you forget," she said hoarsely, "that I already love someone?"
"It does not matter," Anthony replied without hesitation. "This marriage has been finalized. Your feelings, your opinions—none of them matter here."
Instantly, something inside Amara shattered. "You raised me," she screamed, the sound ripping raw from her throat. "Loved me from the day I was born until my twenty-third birthday, and now, you're sending me to a monster several rumours said killed people at will?"
Then, her voice broke completely. "A monster who might have my head for his next meal!"
Anthony's fury boiled over. He did not look away or falter at her emotional outburst. Instead, he stepped forward and raised his hand.
Amara flinched instinctively, squeezing her eyes shut. But before his palm could come down, her mother rushed to his side and caught his wrist midair.
"Anthony!" Matilda cried, gripping him tightly. "Stop it!"
For a brief moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. Then, she turned to Amara at once, her voice urgent, almost pleading.
"Go to your room. Now."
Amara nodded once. Unable to trust her voice, she turned and hurried away. Only then did her father tear his hand free.
"Why did you stop me?" he demanded, turning on his wife. His face was flushed with rage. "That foolish girl dared to lose her manners and provoke me to wrath! How did you raise her?"
"Lower your voice," Matilda urged as she exhaled heavily. "The servants will—"
"Let them hear!" he snapped. "Let everyone hear what an ungrateful wretch she is!"
Then, he started pacing the length of the living room, the invitation letter still crushed in his fist. "Does she not understand the situation we are in? No family can refuse the marriage tribute. No one. This is not a request. It is an order!"
"Regardless, Amara is emotional," Matilda said tightly. "You should have spoken to her differently."
Anthony stopped and rounded on her. "Does she look like someone capable of understanding?" he shot back. "I had no choice, Matilda. If we refuse, our family will be stripped of our noble status. Worse, we face a death sentence."
Then, he scoffed, bitterness twisting his expression. "Or did she truly expect me to send her younger sister instead?" He added coldly, "She should be grateful. This is her chance to repay us."
"That's enough," Matilda said sharply. "We raised her with love. Whatever happened later does not erase that."
Anthony let out a harsh laugh. "Then speak to her. Because next time, I won't stop myself," he spat as he turned and stormed out of the living room.