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The Broken Heiress Returned For Revenge  Novel Cover

The Broken Heiress Returned For Revenge

After her father and sister betray her, Elara is cast out and left to die, losing her title as the werewolf heiress. Miraculously surviving the assault, she awakens transformed into a lethal wolf-vampire hybrid. Armed with forbidden dark powers, she returns to her former pack to seek retribution. Elara must navigate ancient blood feuds to dismantle her family's treacherous legacy and reclaim her rightful throne through shadow and blood.
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Chapter 6

CRUELLA

I clenched my fists so tightly my nails nearly pierced my palms as I watched the students crying and dropping flowers on the altar made for Swayer. Their sniffles, their whispers, their fake sympathy—everything felt like needles stabbing into my chest.

I couldn’t even imagine what Swayer’s mother must be going through. I felt too guilty to face any of them. Too dangerous. What if being close to them made me lose control? What if I hurt them… the same way I killed Gerald?

That guilt still haunted me. Even though his death hadn’t been my fault… I still felt like I stole someone’s father, someone’s brother, someone’s friend. I didn’t know anything about his life, but he must have had people who cared.

“She was such a good influence in this school. I’m really going to miss her,” Maeve said dramatically, placing her flower down and covering her face as if she were crying.

My blood boiled instantly.

I wanted to rip her spine out. Right there. Right then. But not yet. Not until the perfect moment.

I stayed hidden until everyone began leaving. Then I finally walked toward the altar with a single daisy in hand. Swayer’s picture sat at the center—her smile, her eyes… alive. My throat tightened.

I touched the picture gently, and my vision blurred as fresh tears filled my eyes. I’d been crying for hours. Ever since I heard she died. If I hadn’t given myself to Ethan like a fool… the video would never have leaked… we wouldn’t have skipped class… we wouldn’t have stayed late in the lab…

“Swayer… I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.”

I dropped to my knees, letting the flower slip from my fingers. My chest ached like something was tearing through it.

“I’m so sorry, Swayer. I’m so sorry…”

“Moon goddess, please…” My voice cracked. “I begged you for powers, you ignored me. So take them back! Take everything from me and bring Swayer back! She doesn’t deserve this. Kill me instead!”

I waited.

Minutes passed.

Nothing.

The silence swallowed me whole. Something inside me snapped—clean, sharp, irreversible.

My vision darkened; my eyes burned. Hunger. Rage. Desperation.

“Since you won’t bring her back,” I whispered coldly, “I’ll send her murderers to you myself.”

I placed the daisy among the other flowers, stood up, and walked out to find Maeve.

There was a small refreshment area set up, and the moment I entered, every eye turned to me.

“Is she not the best friend to the deceased?”

“She’s that slut whose sex tape got released.”

“I searched for the video but couldn’t find it.”

“Someone must have taken it down.”

“Why is she even here? Shameless.”

“Her skin—why does she look so pale?”

Their whispers were low, but not low enough. My super hearing caught every word clearly.

I grabbed a glass and stared at my reflection. Pale. Too pale. I hadn’t fed. If someone cut themselves right now, things could end in bloodshed.

I turned my hearing outward again—giggling in the corner. Maeve.

“I feel sorry for her. I wish one of her friends had died too so they’d be together in hell,” one of her minions said.

My jaw tightened.

“No one’s seen her since the incident. Maybe her body burnt to ashes,” another added.

Maeve scoffed. “That would’ve been perfect. But she’s alive. Probably too burnt and embarrassed to show her face. She couldn’t even attend her best friend’s vigil. What a waste.”

“You shouldn’t talk behind people’s backs,” I said, stepping forward and startling them.

Maeve froze when she saw me. I could see the disbelief in her eyes—how she wondered how I wasn’t burnt or broken. Her fear was satisfying.

“Shame you weren’t the one whose body burnt,” she spat. “I’d have taken a picture of your ugly ashes.”

“You locked us in that building,” I said quietly. “Why?”

“What nonsense—” one minion started.

“I bet she wasn’t even near the building,” another said.

I ignored them completely. My eyes stayed on Maeve.

Something about my stare unsettled her. She tried to hide it, but I saw it—the rising goosebumps, the fear she couldn’t explain.

“Girls,” she said, hiding her trembling voice, “it seems she’s forgotten her place. Let’s help her remember.”

They grabbed me and dragged me into a nearby room. Maeve shut the door and slapped me hard across the face.

I let myself fall, pretending the blow had a real impact. Before, I would’ve cried, prayed for help. But now? Now I was just playing with my food.

“Still the same weak, useless thing,” Maeve said, grabbing my hair and yanking hard. “Swayer would’ve lived longer if she wasn’t with you.”

“Swayer died because of people like you!” I yelled—and in a blink, Maeve was the one on the floor, and I was holding her by the hair.

“What—how?!” one minion gasped, grabbing my shoulder.

I snapped her wrist before she could blink.

Her scream filled the room.

The other two tried to escape, but I beat them to the door and crushed the handle with one hand. My skin grew even paler. Hunger clawed at my insides. My eyes shifted—steel red.

Maeve’s jaw dropped. Terror drenched her scent.

“I know that fear,” I said, baring my fangs. “I had it once. Never again.”

“Pl-please…” Maeve sobbed. “Please, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bullied you. Please forgive me…”

Her desperation was pathetic. Her apology—deliciously satisfying.

My eyes shifted back to normal. My fangs retracted. I laughed.

“Did the great Maeve just beg for her life? This should be the happiest day of my existence.”

If only Swayer were still alive to witness it.

The pain rushed back. The rage. The emptiness.

I stepped forward to finish them. To end everything.

But a sharp, stabbing pain shot through my leg. My bone twisted violently, and I collapsed with a scream.

My hand twisted next—bones snapping out of place.

I screamed again, agony ripping through me as my limbs bent unnaturally.

What—

What was happening to me?

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