Nightmare Birthday _ 1

[Margaret's POV]

I checked my makeup again and applied a little more lip gloss.

"Margaret, I still can't find my shoes!"

Elizabeth barged right in. She always did.

"Can't you get a new pair?" I sighed.

"But those are the most beautiful ones. And they match my dress, or my whole outfit will be ruined." Elizabeth was already rummaging through my room.

"They can't be in my room."

"Let me look around."

"Stop, Elizabeth. You've messed up my things!" I was getting a little angry.

Elizabeth ignored me.

I couldn't do anything to her. I really hated her and I hated myself for indulging her time and time again.

"You have a pair of pink shoes here too," Elizabeth muttered.

"If you like, take them." I just hoped she would get out of my room quickly.

Elizabeth took out the shoes and gestured at her feet. "The heels seem a little low," Elizabeth grumbled as she sat on my bed.

"These are my only high heels," I said calmly.

This pair of shoes was given to me by Armstrong on my previous birthday. He said I looked good in them. But since Elizabeth wanted them, I'd lend them to her. Anyway, whether I agreed or not, she had her ways of achieving her goal. My opinion meant nothing to her.

Elizabeth glanced at the flats on my feet and put on those shoes without saying anything else.

"This is probably just an inch? I haven't worn shoes with heels that are less than three inches. These shoes will make my calves look less slender."

Elizabeth tried to walk around the room.

"My breasts don't look so full anymore. It's all your fault."

Without a word, I lowered my head and texted Armstrong.

[How's the preparation going?]

[Almost done. The 'princess' is wearing the shoes you gave me.]

'Princess' was the nickname that Armstrong and I had given Elizabeth. He was on my side. Neither of us liked Elizabeth who had blond curls, blue eyes, and a face that always looked exquisite and beautiful.

Elizabeth liked to wear exaggerated, colorful clothes and shoes with sky-high heels. I had to admit that they were very attractive to boys. She dressed herself up like a fictional princess.

[I'll buy you something better. Today is your big day. Be happy. Love you.]

[I love you too.]

I felt better. Armstrong was always calm and collected. That was what I loved about him. As long as I was with him, I felt safe. I knew he'd always be my support.

After dilly-dallying, Elizabeth and I finally set off. Elizabeth was four or five inches taller than me, and with those shoes, she was a head taller than me. When we walked together, it was not obvious who the older sister was. It made me uncomfortable.

We arrived at the grounds. A lot of werewolves had gathered around us. In the distance, I could see Armstrong.

"Mate…" I heard Armstrong whisper.

I had never seen such an expression on Armstrong's face. His face was etched with fascination for his mate, and there was unsatiable desire in his eyes, as if he wanted to devour me. I had never known I was so important to him. He was needing me. The thought excited me uncontrollably.

He walked towards me, step by step, an unusual glint in his eyes. I could not help but hold my breath. Is he going to announce that I'm his mate here? I wondered. But I didn't sense anything. My mind was blank.

Then I saw my boyfriend, Armstrong—whom I had spent six years with—walk past me in front of all the werewolves in the tribe, hug my sister Elizabeth, and exchange a long, hot French kiss with her.

At this moment, Armstrong was only two steps away from me, but I felt like we had never been so far apart.

"Elizabeth is my fated mate. She will be Luna of the pack."

Everyone cheered.

I couldn't believe what I had seen and heard. He had promised me that he would make me Luna. Is all of this fake? I thought. I'm just a clown. I'd never have the chance to be a protagonist. Everything that had happened before was just an unrealistic fantasy.

I felt like my only emotional attachment was severed. No one had ever loved me. I couldn't even cry. I stared blankly at Elizabeth, who was immersed in happiness. I saw her give me a smug smile.