My Parents Chose My Twin and Called Me Fake? Fine—I Found a Better Alpha Father! Chapter 03

My Parents Chose My Twin and Called Me Fake? Fine—I Found a Better Alpha Father! Chapter 03

A deathly hush settled in the air.

Mom walked over and took hold of my hand, her gaze fixed firmly on the floor.

“Leanna, listen. This is hard for everyone. But your birth parents are here now. You have no reason to stay.”

I had thought I would never cry again, yet tears still spilled down my cheeks.

Seventeen years.

I spent seventeen whole years trying to win their love, striving to prove I deserved a place in this pack.

Still, they would not spare even the tiniest spot for me.

Mom started to lift her hand, but Hannah caught her wrist before she could touch me.

“Congratulations, Leanna. You’re finally not a homeless rogue anymore.”

The middle-aged woman standing nearby rushed forward and grabbed my hand.

Her dark, coarse nails sank sharply into my skin.

“My daughter! Mom has found you at last. Come home with me right now.”

The man who claimed to be my birth father tugged my other arm.

“That’s right, hurry off. The Alpha and Luna have already shown you great kindness. Don’t shamelessly cling to this place.”

“Wait.”

Hannah rolled her eyes and spoke with a playful smirk.

“Leanna, shouldn’t you show them some gratitude? Maybe get on your knees? Unless you’re embarrassed by their status as wanderers…”

I froze in place.

I turned to look at my foster parents.

“Do you two also think I should kneel down?”

Both of them instantly avoided my eyes.

Their silence was answer enough.

“Come on, Leanna,” Hannah whispered. “Everyone is watching.”

I let out a laugh, harsh and crisp like shattering glass.

Something deep inside me shattered completely.

Hannah wanted a show?

Fine. I stared straight into my parents’ eyes—the people who’d raised me—and my voice rang out, clear and cold, for the entire pack to hear. “It’s over. Between you and me. Between me and this pack. It’s done.”

The couple exchanged a quick glance, a flicker of panic crossing their faces.

I turned around and headed toward the strangers at the doorway.

Mom’s voice chased after me down the hallway.

“You still owe us money! All the resources the pack poured into you—”

I stopped walking, never looking back.

“So be it.”

They believed they had spent heavily on raising me.

Yet they chose to forget one simple truth.

Hannah was the favored child, showered with everything she wanted.

As for me? I only received three hundred dollars each month.

Most of that money always ended up in Hannah’s possession.

If I refused to hand it over, she would run to them in tears. She would lie that I bullied her and made her miserable at school.

They would lock me in my room and cut off my meals, sometimes for days on end.

Once, she told them my harsh treatment pushed her to suicidal thoughts.

They left me standing outside in a violent storm the whole night, not allowing me to move even a little to warm myself.

I ran a fever of 104 degrees Fahrenheit, and no one came to check on my condition.

This was how things had always been.

They believed every word Hannah said, while my own words never mattered.

My pleas, my tears, my suffering—all worthless.

Just like myself.

*****

That night, I ended up in a dilapidated apartment that reeked of mold and decay—a place even vagrants avoided. There was no bed, no blanket. I slept on the cold bathroom floor. Newspaper stuffed the broken window, but a bitter wind still seeped through the cracks.

By morning, I was shaking uncontrollably.

Dazed and feverish, I heard a voice speak over the phone line.

“Alpha, Luna, she’s seriously ill and running a high fever.”

“Drive her to the hospital right away!”

Then Hannah’s voice came through the speakerphone, clear and sharp.

“Dad, doesn’t this feel suspicious? She left last night and suddenly falls gravely sick today. She’s clearly faking illness just to make you feel guilty.”

Silence fell for a moment. I heard Dad draw a long, heavy breath.

“Don’t call us again. She made her choice, and she must face the consequences alone.”

Mom’s tone held obvious irritation.

“She is no longer our problem. We are taking Hannah to join pack collective training. Leave us in peace.”

The call ended.

No one came to my side.

I don’t know how long I lay on that bathroom floor. Time passed. Eventually, the thought came—if I didn’t move, I would die there, wolf or not. So I dragged myself up. I crawled from the bathroom.

Across the hall. To the front door. Out onto the street.

I made it half a block before my strength gave out.

I crashed onto the sidewalk.

That’s the last thing I remember.