Ch. 11 - How is it my fault?

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Hello my wonderful readers!

I'm so sorry for going awol and leaving you guys. I had recently joined another dance company so now I have to manage school, my dance at school and now dance at a studio. I have barely been able to manage both and school hasn't even started yet.

During that time I took a little break from writing, and now my break is over! I will try to update either every week or ever two weeks :)

I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

-C.W.
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Roselyn

*Flashback*

"Daddy! Daddy!" I called out skipping into the throne room.My father looked up at me from his head hanging down.

"What now Rose? Can't you see I'm busy." He replied angrily his eyes bloodshot red and stained with tears.

I came to a stop in front of the steps that held his throne up high.

I smiled up at him, "It's time for the father daughter dance. It's my birthday and I asked if they could play the song."

I was afraid he would say no, he hasn't been the same since my moms death. He stared at me before a tiny sigh came across his face.

Just as he was about to stand up his eyes lowered and caught on me.

His voice was strained, "What. Is. That?"

I frowned looking down to see what he was gazing at. It was my moms necklace. Before I could respond, the king slammed up from his throne and stalked to me.

"Why are you wearing her jewelry?! I told you to never go through the vault, god damn it, child." He shouted snatching the necklace from my neck and crushing it in his bare hands.

I gasped watching the jewels fall to the ground and tears soon started forming in my eyes.

I stuttered, "I--I'm sorry fa--"

The king roared at me, "Get out! It's all your fault she's gone, get out of my sight. Your such a worthless, pathetic child. God I wish you and your mother had switched fates!"

*End of Flashback*

I cried that day. The day when my father said that he wished I wasn't here and how my mothers death was my fault.

Ever since the incident of when I turned 10, no father daughter dance. Nothing. After that he demanded that I call him sir, sire, King, or my lord.

It's why I hate birthday balls, the way he yelled at me. I was terrified each year that he would blame me for her death because she died on my birthday.

I remember the words, making me feel like I wasn't wanted. So why do I feel like that now? Why do I feel hopeless, crushed and heart broken by the words that Logan said.

His words rang in and out of my head as I sprinted helplessly around this huge mansion of a pack house. I mean there's no reason I should be crushed, I don't like him.

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