---- Chapter 1 Becky's POV I took a deep breath before answering the phone, " I'm ready to fulfill your condition and take my rightful place as the heiress," I said, before hanging up abruptly. The weight of my decision hit me, but I knew it was the only way forward. Staring at the room that had been my sanctuary for eight long years, I felt a bittersweet smile tug at my lips. Years of devotion, patience, and love had led me here-empty-handed. My heart pulsed with the same bitter ache that had echoed through me for so long, the same ache that the wolves called the weight of a bond never realized. ---- A piercing voice broke the silence, sharp and angry. "How dare you wear my mother's dress!" Dorian's words were like a slap in the face, and I turned to face him, fighting the urge to bare my teeth at him. His eyes were full of fury, but I had long since stopped caring. "You're not going to respond?" He snarled again, his voice dripping with venom. I took a slow breath, controlling the beast inside me, the part of me that wanted to shift and rip him apart. "Go to your celebration,Dorian. Your pack is waiting for you." My words were soft, laced with the weariness of someone who had fought too many battles with those who never saw her as a true part of their pack. "No!" He roared, fury dancing in his eyes as he grabbed the pitcher from the table, and witha swift motion, splashed the hot contents all over me. The burn hit me like a punch to the chest. " This is what you deserve!" He spat. "You can ---- never replace my mother! You killed her with your jealousy and now you wear her dress like it's your right!" His words were poison, each one a reminder of everything I'd lost and could never have again. I screamed, the heat of the coffee searing my skin, but I knew better than to fight back. The sting on my body was nothing compared to the sting in my heart. A maid rushed in, gasping at the sight of my scalded skin and coffee-stained clothes. "I'm so sorry, Miss Becky.Dorian ran off again. Let me take him away," she quickly said, her voice trembling. As they scurried off, I stood there, feeling the rage of my wolf slowly subside, replaced by the cold numbness of defeat. That dress...it had never been Elizabeth's. It had been mine-given to me by my mother before her passing. But Elizabeth had taken it, just like she had taken everything else