The Rejected Mate's Defiant Return To Power

Elara Thorne POV:

Magnus returned with a deer slung over his shoulders, a fine prize. I nodded in approval and immediately set to work, my hands moving with a practiced skill I'd learned surviving in the wild during my last life. Magnus watched me, a look of awe and confusion on his face. This was not the helpless mother he knew.

A loud, rattling engine announced the arrival of a beat-up pickup truck. My daughter, sixteen-year-old Freya, jumped out. She was dressed in clothes far too expensive for our family, her face painted with makeup.

Her eyes lit up when she saw the deer. "Finally, some real food! I'm starving," she complained, already reaching for the choicest cut, a thick leg of venison. "Hurry up, Mom. My friends are waiting for me in town."

It was her usual routine: take the best for herself to show off, leaving us the scraps.

My skinning knife flashed, its tip stopping an inch from her manicured fingers.

Freya shrieked, snatching her hand back. "What are you doing? Are you crazy?"

I slowly looked up from my work, my eyes flat and devoid of warmth. "None of this is for you."

She stared at me, then laughed as if I'd told a joke. "What did you say? This is my brother's kill!"

A cold smile touched my lips. "And what have you done for this family, Freya? Have you ever washed a dish? Chopped a piece of firewood? What gives you the right to enjoy any of it?"

She was speechless for a moment, then her face flushed with anger. "I'm your daughter! It's your duty to provide for me!"

She turned to her brother for support. "Magnus, look at her! She's lost her mind!"

Magnus glanced from my icy expression to his sister's indignant one and remained silent.

I stood up, wiping my bloody hands on a rag, and walked over to her. "From now on, 'duty' is a word that I define in this house."

I gestured to the truck. "Those 'friends' of yours only hang around because you occasionally steal something good from home to share. Now, there's nothing left to steal."

My eyes narrowed. "And that dress, that makeup... Astrid's been giving you money behind my back, hasn't she?"

The color drained from Freya's face. It was her secret.

"Well, her money is gone now," I continued, my voice relentless. "From now on, if you want to eat, you hunt. If you want new clothes, you earn the money to buy them."

I walked back to the deer, sliced off a small, gristly piece of meat from the neck, and tossed it at her feet. "That is your share for today. Eat it, or leave."

Freya trembled with a rage and humiliation she had never known. Tears welled in her eyes. "I hate you!" she screamed. "I'm going to find Grandma and Grandpa!"

She spun around and stormed toward the house to tattle, just as she always had.

I didn't stop her. I just called out calmly, "They're in the woodshed. You can join them if you like."

She skidded to a halt at the woodshed door and saw the heavy bolt slid across it. The faint sound of her grandparents' moaning drifted out from within.

The reality of the situation finally crashed down on her. Her protectors were gone. She was alone.

A wave of pure terror washed over her, and she collapsed to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

I ignored her cries. I turned to Magnus, my voice even. "Finish skinning the deer. We're eating well tonight."

My tone was completely steady, as if Freya's breakdown was nothing more than the rustling of leaves in the wind.

Magnus looked at his weeping sister, then back at me. The respect in his eyes deepened into something closer to fear.

I knew what I was doing was harsh. But for a child as spoiled as Freya, the only way to force her to grow was to sever all her dependencies at once.