My Family Pretend Death For a Substitute She-wolf

Five years ago, I, Evelyn Whitman, got into a car wreck to save my family. Ended up a vegetable, trapped in my own body. Five years later, I finally woke up, but the world I knew was gone. My parents, George and Marianne, and my brother Ryan had a new she-wolf in their lives-Nina Whitman, their adopted pup. They doted on her like she was the moon itself. Even Elliot Graves, my childhood mate, the wolf who swore we'd be eternally bound, couldn't take his eyes off her. They said they took her in because they missed me so much. But I couldn't stomach it. I demanded they send Nina away. Big mistake. On the way to drop her off, a crash happened. My parents and Nina died on the spot-or so I thought. From that moment, Ryan and Elliot turned on me, their love curdling into hate. They blamed me, said if I hadn't forced Nina out, three lives wouldn't have been lost. They tormented me, punished me, and I let them. I thought I deserved it. Three years later, I was a battered shell, my body broken and my spirit shattered. Then the healer dropped the bomb: late-stage cancer. One month left to live, tops. But then, stumbling past a hotel, half out of my mind, I saw something that stopped me cold. There they were-my "dead" parents, Ryan, Elliot-all gathered around a table, laughing, celebrating Nina's birthday. She was glowing, a crown on her head, looking every bit the princess. I stood outside, frozen, like lightning had struck me. Before I could process it, I overheard Elliot ask Ryan, "Evelyn's learned her lesson. How long are we keeping up this charade?" Ryan smirked. "Let's tell her the truth on her birthday next month. Let her stew in pain a bit longer. Teach her not to mess with Nina again." My mother sighed. "Evelyn's too stubborn. She needed this lesson to accept Nina." My father nodded. "After this fake death, she won't dare cross Nina again." My blood ran cold. It was all a lie. They weren't dead-they'd faked it to force me to accept Nina, to drown me in guilt and suffering. My parents, my brother, my mate-the wolves I loved most-had played me for a fool. All for her. The kicker? I wouldn't live long enough to see their so-called mercy. Inside, they were all smiles, but I couldn't watch anymore. I stumbled out of the hotel, my head spinning with the nightmare of the past three years. Every day, I'd drowned in guilt. I dreamed of that burning car, my parents screaming, Nina's terrified eyes haunting me. I took every punishment Elliot and Ryan dished out. I let Elliot choke me while snarling, "You killed them." I knelt in the memorial hall for three days and nights at Ryan's command. I wrote "I'm sorry" until my fingers bled. But it was all fake. I ran home, collapsing as I stumbled through the door, blood spilling from my mouth. In the bathroom, I hunched over the toilet, crimson mixing with tears. Shaking, I swallowed some pain pills and flushed the evidence. Then the door slammed open. "You ignoring me now? Playing dead for who?" Ryan's voice was ice, his shadow looming in the doorway. "Trying to dodge your atonement again?" Elliot frowned, eyeing me on the floor. "What're you doing down there?" I looked up, numb. "What's my punishment today?" They exchanged a glance. Elliot's voice was flat. "Go to Northside and get a cake for Lena." I laughed, a bitter, broken sound. Lena-the she-wolf they brought home a month after Nina's "death." She looked just like Nina. Back then, I thought they were just clinging to a stand-in for their grief. Now I knew better. Lena was Nina. They didn't even bother changing her name much. "Fine. I'll go," I said. I was too tired to fight, too close to death to care. Northside's bakery had a two-hour line. I stood there, weak under the blazing sun, my vision flickering. The first cake I brought back? Lena said it was "too cold." The second? "Too sweet." The third? "Ugly shape." By the seventh, I finally got a "perfect" one, only to get hit by a scooter on the way back. The driver sped off, leaving me limping home, legs bleeding. "Here's your cake," I said, handing the bag to Lena. She opened it and screamed. "Blood! There's blood!" Elliot and Ryan rushed in. Lena, eyes wet, threw herself into their arms. "Elliot, Ryan, if she didn't want to get it, she could've just said so! Why ruin it with blood to gross me out?" Their faces darkened as they saw the stained box. "You did this on purpose?" Elliot's voice was a low growl. I leaned against the wall, legs throbbing from the crash. "No. On the way back. I got hit by a scooter. The blood's mine." "A crash?" Ryan sneered, stepping closer. "You think I'm an idiot? You're standing here, perfectly fine after a 'crash'?" He grabbed my wrist. "Since you love lying, let's make it real. Boys, drag her to the lawn." Two enforcers grabbed me, hauling me like livestock to the backyard. My knees scraped raw on the gravel path, but no one cared. In the center of the lawn, Elliot and Ryan sat in a black Maybach, the engine's roar like a death knell. "Elliot, Ryan." I struggled to stand. "I swear-" Before I could finish, the car gunned forward. Crash! Pain exploded through me. I flew through the air like a ragdoll, slamming into the grass meters away. Blood sprayed from my mouth, my vision fading to black as I passed out. When I came to, the sharp sting of antiseptic burned my nose. My eyes fluttered open, the ceiling's fluorescent lights blinding me. "How's she bleeding so much?" Elliot's hushed voice came from outside the room. "We barely tapped her!" "Yeah," Ryan said, disbelief in his tone. "We controlled it." The healer sighed, exhausted. "She's in the final stages of cancer. It's spread everywhere. That hit? It's only speeding up her end." I lay there, the truth sinking in. My mate, my brother-they didn't know they were killing me faster. And I didn't care anymore.