Author: Momo Chan

“When the moon goddess designated Catherine and my brother as fated mates, I said nothing. But she was always meant to be mine.” “We were each other’s first love.” “Now my brother is dead. She can finally be mine, and no one can say otherwise.” My fiancé, Killian, has been kneeling outside my father’s estate for three days and three nights. He begs me to reject him of my own accord so that he might marry Katherine instead. “Elara, you are the heir to the Red Moon Tribe. You possess everything; I beg you—reject me. Let Katherine be my mate.” In my previous life, I refused. Consequently, on the very night of the bonding ceremony meant to unite Killian and me, Katherine swallowed silver-poison and took her own life. For this, Killian loathed me to the very bone. After we completed the marking ritual, he never entered my bedchamber again. Later, building upon the foundation provided by my family, he finally secured a firm foothold for the Graystone Pack. He forced a draught of wolfsbane poison down my throat, watching as I writhed in agony on the floor, and snarled through clenched teeth: “You are the one who killed Katherine. Once you are dead, your corpse will be hung high in the Red Moon Tribe’s territory. That will be the punishment for your father.” In this life, I gazed at the man kneeling before the estate gates and smiled. “By the Moon Goddess above, I, Elara, hereby reject Killian as my mate.” …… “Elara, Killian has been kneeling out there for three days now. Is this his way of trying to force your compliance? The audacity!” “He wants to marry his own brother’s mate—a desire for which his own father already gave him a sound thrashing. Now he’s playing the pitiful victim to pressure you. Does he really think our tribe is a pushover?” My maidservant, Rosie, stormed into the room, her face flushed crimson with indignation. I recalled the day Killian first arrived at my father’s doorstep, pleading with me to dissolve our betrothal. The news that the heir to the Graystone Tribe had been kneeling for three days and three nights had already spread throughout the entire territory of the wolf packs. A large crowd of wolves had gathered at the gates, pointing fingers and whispering amongst themselves. Standing just inside the doorway, I let out a long, slow breath. Killian had no choice but to come to me. To marry one’s own brother’s former mate—that was a scandal. The Alpha and Luna of the Graystone Tribe would never agree to this. But if *I* were the one to reject him—if I broke off the engagement of my own accord—then he could claim that *he* was the one who had been cast aside. That way, his parents would have no grounds to object. And so, he knelt here, pressuring me—using the very persona of elegance and grace I had once cultivated for myself—to force my consent. A woman clad in white approached Killian and knelt down beside him. As Killian recognized the newcomer, his face filled with a mixture of heartache and urgent concern. “Katherine, what are you doing here? This has nothing to do with you. I will speak to Alala personally. You are frail, and your wolf spirit is unstable. Go back at once.” Katherine shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “Killian, this is simply my wretched fate. Please, stop pleading on my behalf.” “Alala comes from a noble lineage; how could she possibly understand my suffering? My mate is dead, and my own family refuses to take me back.” “Yet, even so, I cannot bear to see you hurt yourself like this just to protect me.” Killian caught her just before she collapsed. “Katherine, I swear I will look after you for the rest of my life. My brother is gone; protecting you is now my duty.” The moment he saw me step through the gates, he immediately raised his voice. “Alala, you are the daughter of the Red Moon Tribe’s Alpha. You know the difference between right and wrong. Look at how Katherine suffers—I beg you, release me from our engagement and allow me to be with her.” I fixed my gaze upon the gray garment Katherine was wearing. Everyone around her assumed she dressed so plainly out of mourning—as a tribute to her late husband. But no one else noticed the true nature of that garment—a fabric so rare that, throughout the entire tribe, scarcely a handful of people could ever hope to possess it. Killian guarded her as if she were a precious treasure; she looked nothing like a woman who had ever known hardship. My wolf, Laura, let out a furious growl.

I looked calmly at Killian. “Killian, Katherine is your brother’s mate. How can you do this to him?” “Kaden fought for the pack and was ultimately killed by a pack of strays. Every wolf in this territory respects him for his loyalty and bravery.” “Who dares to mistreat the mate he left behind? Can’t the Alpha of the Greystone Pack even protect his own daughter-in-law?” “Or is it that since Caden’s death, everyone in your pack has come to look down on her? If I join the Greystone Pack, I will personally ensure she receives the respect she deserves.” “Besides, when news of Kaden’s death reached the pack, I heard Katherine was so overcome with grief that she fainted on the spot. Everyone praised her loyalty—and how long has it even been?” “And now you want to marry her? Have you thought about the consequences?” Killian was blinded by emotion, but the Alpha of the Greystone Pack was not. So the moment Killian said he was taking Katherine away, he was beaten senseless. But as soon as he could stand, he crawled to my father’s doorstep. Killian held Katherine tightly, looked up at me, his voice full of sincerity. “Elarra, she was meant to be mine. It was the Moon Goddess who made a mistake; that’s why she became my brother’s destined mate.” “Now, because of this, she can never be anyone else’s partner. I cannot abandon her.” “In the Greystone Tribe, without a husband to rely on, she’ll be the subject of constant gossip. With her frail body, she simply couldn’t bear it.” Katherine wiped away her tears. “Miss Elara, I should die. That would be the easiest solution. But Killian won’t let me; he insists I stay by her side.” “Fate has been so unfair to both of us. You’re about to marry into the Greystone Tribe. Or could you let me stay by Killian’s side? I swear, I’ll never compete with you for him—you’ll always be his one and only partner.” “I don’t want anything else. I just want to stay by his side.” After she spoke, her voice choked up, and her body swayed as if she might collapse at any moment. Tears fell one by one, each landing with perfect timing. Their performance of grief was so convincing that the crowd began to whisper, filled with sympathy. “Poor Katherine. Her husband died right after they were married. He left her with nothing.” “Couldn’t Elara just let them be together?” “But if she accepted Katherine’s proposal, who knows who would be in charge of the Greystone Clan in the future? A man blinded by love will always choose the woman he favors, not his destined mate.” The murmurs grew louder. My wolf inside me let out a cold laugh. In my previous life, the scene Killian and Katherine staged right here at this door completely crushed what little dignity I had left. I had been stubborn back then, refusing to reject him. Katherine used her death to turn my bonding ceremony into a disaster, giving Killian a reason to remember her forever—and to hate me forever. In this life, everything starts anew. I will not let them succeed. “Killian, what are you doing?” A shrill shout rang out from behind me, and the crowd parted to make way. It was Luna Victoria of the Greystone Clan. I’d summoned her before leaving. She arrived just in time. She glared at Killian, her eyes brimming with disappointment. “You are the heir to the Greystone Clan. Your every action reflects on the pack’s honor. Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Katherine cowered behind Killian, trembling all over, and called out softly, “Luna.” Luna slapped Katherine across the face. “Ever since the day you joined the pack, I’ve treated you like my own daughter. But the moment my Caden died, you turned around and seduced my youngest son. You want to be the heir’s mate? Fuck off.”

Katherine wept, her face streaked with tears. “Luna, Killian and I truly love each other. Caden and I have dissolved our bond; I am free now.” Victoria snapped, “Caden’s body still hasn’t been recovered, and you’re already so eager to find your next partner?” Their urgency was, of course, because they couldn’t wait any longer. It wasn’t until after Katherine died in my previous life that I learned she was carrying Killian’s child. That was why Killian had poisoned me so viciously. They were in such a hurry because if they didn’t get married soon, Katherine’s pregnancy would be impossible to hide. Killian shouted, “Mother, you only have eyes for my brother. Have you ever thought of me?” “Back then, the Moon Goddess designated Katherine for my brother, and you wouldn’t let him refuse—even though he clearly didn’t love her.” “Later, because of the concept of destined partners, you insisted I marry Aelara.” “Now I’ve compromised, but I’m simply asking that Katherine stay by my side. Must you be so heartless?” Hearing this, I raised an eyebrow and cut him off: “How can the status of a mistress be worthy of Katherine? She should be your partner.” As soon as I finished speaking, a look of surprise and delight flashed across Killian’s face. He tilted his head back and laughed aloud: “Elarra, you’re actually willing to give up the position of partner for Katherine?” “Everyone says you’re smart and gentle, but I never expected you to be so magnanimous.” My mother, who had been rushed out of the manor, hurriedly cut me off: “No, Elara, you mustn’t act on impulse. Your betrothal to the Greystone Clan isn’t something you can change with a single word.” “Besides, if Killian were to do something like this before your marriage, your father and I would certainly not accept it so easily. You must not act recklessly; this concerns your entire future.” Having said that, Mother turned to Killian: “Killian, you’ve forced Elara to accept Katherine staying by your side. Such disloyalty is truly despicable.” “And now you’re using public opinion to pressure Elara into agreeing.” I calmed my mother’s anger and stepped forward to look at Katherine. “Katherine, are you certain you want to become Killian’s mistress? To give up all the glory you shared with Caden?” Katherine nodded. “Yes. I only want to be with Killian for the rest of my life.” “I don’t care if he’s the heir, nor do I care if I can become the Luna of the Graystone Tribe. We simply love each other with all our hearts and want to be together.” I looked at the two of them. “Caden’s body isn’t even cold yet. As his widow, can’t you even wait until his body is found?” Katherine just covered her face and wept, not answering a word. Killian frowned at me. “You need only agree to let Katherine stay. You needn’t concern yourself with anything else.” “My brother is gone, but the living must go on. Is that not so?” I tilted my chin up slightly, looking at them with contempt. “Killian, I never imagined you were such a despicable man. To marry his partner so soon after my brother’s death—how could someone like you possibly deserve to have me as your wife?” “By the Moon Goddess, I, Elara, refuse to let Killian become my partner.” “Now just go ahead and marry your Katherine—whether as a partner or a mistress. From this day forward, we have nothing to do with one another.” My wolf, Laura, let out a triumphant howl deep within my heart.

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My husband locked our son in the trunk—just so his childhood sweetheart’s cat could have the entire back seat to itself. My son was terrified, pounding on the trunk lid, crying hysterically. His desperate banging drew honking warnings from passing cars, but my husband just held his childhood sweetheart in the passenger seat, laughing and flirting. “What’s with all these cars honking? Are they sick or something?” It wasn’t until I scrolled through social media and recognized our car in a video posted by netizens that I called him in a panic. He finally picked up on the fifteenth call. Through blaring music and girlish laughter, his annoyed voice came through. “I’m driving! Why the hell are you calling? So annoying!” “Our son’s in the trunk crying so hard he can barely breathe! Pull over now!” I screamed into the phone. His response was casual, almost bored. “Kids cry. He’s not gonna die. I’ll let him out when we get home.” “That’s ten more hours! It’s a sealed trunk—you’re going to kill him…” He hung up. When I tried calling back, I found he’d blocked me. Almost immediately, his childhood sweetheart posted on social media. Her cat was curled up in my son’s car seat. The caption read: [Sean said that for ‘our son’s’ comfort on this trip, eliminating unnecessary people was essential. ♡] I was crying so hard I almost passed out when suddenly, I heard my son’s clear voice behind me. “Mommy! Uncle and I are back from the amusement park!” I spun around. My son stood in the entryway, clutching his toys. Then who the hell was locked in that trunk? *** I pulled my son into my arms, holding him tight until I felt his warmth and heartbeat. Only then could I believe this was real. But the video, those cries, Cindy’s social media post… None of it could be fake! “Mommy, why are you crying?” My son wiped my face with his little hands. “It’s nothing, sweetheart.” I forced a smile and handed him to my brother. “Jake, watch Leo for a couple days. I have an emergency to handle.” After settling my son, I got in my car and drove straight toward Sean’s hometown. I had to find out—who the hell was in that trunk! At a rest stop, I grabbed a hot Americano during a brief break. A few truckers nearby huddled around their phones, and their conversation drifted into my ears. “Still hasn’t let him out? It’s been hours!” “According to the latest updates, the kid’s still in the trunk. The banging sounds are getting weaker. It’s terrible!” “Word is there were several accidents on the highway, massive traffic jam. The cops can’t even get through yet.” “Is that father insane? I heard he did it just so his mistress’s cat could sit comfortably…” A chill crawled up my spine. My hand trembled, spilling hot coffee. How dare Sean! That could be a life! I couldn’t sit still any longer. I rushed back to my car and switched the GPS to take back roads. Just then, my mother-in-law called. “Alice, I can’t reach Sean. I don’t know if Leo gets carsick…” My throat tightened like I’d swallowed waterlogged cotton. “Mom, probably bad signal on the road. I can’t reach him either.” “Leo’s probably asleep by now. You should get some rest.” I hung up quickly, and tears immediately burst out. What could I say? That your son would lock your grandson in a trunk to die, all for his childhood sweetheart’s cat? Sean had requested time off a week early to drive Cindy home for the holidays. I couldn’t get away from work, so he suggested taking Leo back first. How could I have trusted him! Thank God. Thank God Leo was safe. Otherwise, I would’ve dragged Sean straight to hell with me! The back roads were rough, and I drove with my heart in my throat. Three hours later, my phone’s tracking showed Sean’s car stopped at a roadside motel. Seven hours had passed since I’d first seen that video! Eyes bloodshot, I switched the GPS and drove like a maniac toward that motel. I burst into the lobby and pointed at the black sedan parked outside, my voice hoarse. “The owner of the car with license plate ending in 7X9—what room?” The desk clerk glanced at me and went back to scrolling on her phone. “Sorry, we can’t disclose guest information.” “There’s a child in that trunk! He’s been locked in there for seven hours!” I slammed my hand on the desk. The clerk remained unmoved. “Then contact the guest yourself.” With no other choice, I dialed Cindy’s number. “Ring… ring…” It rang forever. Just when I thought no one would answer, she picked up. The first thing that spilled from the receiver was sticky, intimate panting mixed with the creaking of bedsprings. Then came Cindy’s deliberately sweet voice, trembling slightly. “Sean… shouldn’t we… shouldn’t we bring Leo up here?” “It’s been seven or eight hours now, and it’s pretty cold at night…” Next, Sean’s impatient voice came through, mixed with heavy breathing. “Bringing him up will just interrupt us. Forget about him!” “Besides, sleeping in the trunk is the same as sleeping anywhere else, right?” “Don’t waste time, hurry up…” The call abruptly ended. Buzzing filled my ears. All the blood in my body went cold.

The clerk saw my face go pale and asked quietly. “Ma’am, are… are you alright?” “There’s a child in that car…” My voice was hoarse as I pointed outside. “You can’t just ignore this!” The clerk’s face showed a flicker of hesitation, but she still shook her head. “Ma’am, I… we can’t leak guest information. Why don’t you try contacting them again?” Cindy had just blocked me. How was I supposed to contact them! I quickly scanned the motel layout and pretended I needed the bathroom. “Where’s the restroom?” The clerk pointed in a direction. I turned and headed that way, then quietly slipped upstairs. The moment I reached the second-floor landing, Cindy’s moaning drifted from the end of the hallway. I held my breath and inched forward, step by step. Muffled voices came from inside the room. Sean’s voice. “Damn, you’re exhausting. I need to sleep…” “Sean, what about Leo…” Cindy’s voice. “Tch, why do you keep bringing him up?” “We’ll deal with it after I get some sleep. He’s not gonna die anytime soon anyway.” Even though I knew Leo was safe at home right now, Sean’s words were like poisoned seeds taking root in my mind. I couldn’t control the vision that forced itself into my head—I “saw” my Leo being shoved into that dark, suffocating trunk. His little hands pounding until they turned red, his cries going from loud to hoarse, finally reduced to weak whimpering. Cold. Dark. No oxygen. His tiny body curled up, slowly going still. Every detail felt so real, as if it were happening right before my eyes. Even though logic told me it was a hallucination, it was fake. But that imagined despair squeezed my heart and choked my breath. Without thinking, I raised my foot and kicked the door with all my strength! “BANG!” The door flew open. Inside, Sean was naked, wrapped around an equally naked Cindy. His face twisted with shock and rage as he looked up. Cindy shrieked and grabbed the blanket to cover herself. “Alice Miller?! Are you fucking insane!” He grabbed his clothes, his face turned grim. My eyes swept the room quickly. Clothes and used condoms scattered across the floor. The air reeked of something nauseating. Cindy’s damn cat was curled up at the corner of the bed, lazily licking its paw. I ignored his piercing shouts, my gaze sharp as a blade cutting straight through him. “Give me the car keys. I’m opening that trunk!” Sean’s face flashed with confusion, then greater fury. “I just put Leo in the trunk—did you really drive hundreds of miles to chase me down? He’s not dead!” “Give me the keys!” I repeated, extending my hand. “Now!” “Psycho! You’re a complete psycho!” Sean cursed furiously, grabbed the car keys from the nightstand, and hurled them at me. The keys flew through the air and smacked into the cat at the corner of the bed. “MEOW!! REOWWW!!!” The cat’s fur stood on end as it leaped up. “Whiskers!” Cindy, wrapped in the blanket, lunged forward and clutched the cat to her chest. “Baby, are you okay? Does it hurt?” Her eyes reddened with concern as she held the cat up to Sean’s face. “Sean, look—Whiskers is terrified!” Sean immediately bent down, gently stroking the cat’s back. “Whiskers, don’t be scared, Daddy will make it better.” “That’s right, Mommy and Daddy are here. Whiskers is so brave.” The two of them cooed over the cat like they were comforting a precious child who’d suffered the world’s greatest injustice. I watched this absurd, grotesque scene and let out a bitter laugh. “Ha… how touching.” My gaze moved from them to the whimpering cat, finally landing on the car outside the window. “So in your eyes, is the child in that trunk worth less than a single hair on this animal?”

Sean’s eyes flickered, his voice dry. “Leo’s my son. Of course I care. I’ll go down with you…” “Alice! You deliberately didn’t catch those keys so they’d hit Whiskers, didn’t you?” Cindy interrupted him with a sob, clutching the cat and glaring at me through tears, “Leo wanted to play hide-and-seek in the trunk himself—that’s why Sean agreed!” She turned to Sean, her voice even more pitiful. “How can you blame this on me! And even if you’re mad at me, why take it out on Whiskers!” The faint wavering on Sean’s face instantly vanished, replaced by a sinister look directed at me. “A cat is a life too! If you’re this cruel to an animal, how are you any different from one yourself?” He bent down, picked up the keys, and gripped them tight, his voice dripping with disdain. “Like mother, like son! Leo can stay in that trunk and reflect on his behavior. And you—get lost!” “Reflect?” I trembled with rage, tears streaming down my face. “Sean, that child has been locked in there for almost eight hours!” “He’s scared! He could run out of oxygen! He could die—have you thought about that?!” Sean’s face remained dark, but his eyes softened for just a moment. “Sean, look! So many people are calling me a mistress, a homewrecker…” Cindy pulled out her phone and shoved it in his face. The screen showed comments calling her a “mistress.” She turned, tears pooling in her eyes as she stared at me. “This is your doing, isn’t it? You work in media—you’re best at manipulating public opinion…” “From the beginning, you didn’t want Sean to drive me home. You’ve been planning to destroy me this whole time, haven’t you?” “You’re lying!” I was so angry I nearly laughed. “Random people posted those videos online. What does that have to do with me!” “Really?” Cindy’s gaze sharpened. “Because I had someone check—the ‘concerned citizen’ who first posted the video is an intern at your company.” “You plotted this from the start to frame us and ruin our reputations!” “From the moment you objected to Sean driving me and my brother’s family, you’ve had this whole thing planned out, haven’t you?!” Sean’s eyes turned completely cold, looking at me like I was a venomous snake. “Alice Miller, you disgust me.” “Get on your knees right now and apologize to Cindy. Bow your head and admit everything you’ve schemed!” “Otherwise, tomorrow my lawyer will slap divorce papers in your face! And you’ll never see your son again!” My heart sank. Yes, when he proposed driving Cindy and her brother Derek’s family home, I’d argued with him because I couldn’t handle work and watch Leo alone. In the end, he compromised and said he’d only take Cindy and Leo. But now, this had somehow become evidence of my “premeditated setup.” I had no interest in explaining to him. I lunged for the keys in Sean’s hand! “Ahhh!” Cindy, who was blocking the way, suddenly screamed and fell to the ground, clutching her stomach. “Alice, why did you kick my stomach!” I froze. I hadn’t even touched her! “Alice Miller! You fucking dare lay hands on her?!” Sean’s eyes bulged with fury. The next second, Sean viciously kicked me in the abdomen! “Ugh—ahh!” I flew backward, my spine slamming against the wall before I slid to the floor. Every organ felt displaced. I curled up in agony, my vision going black. But it wasn’t over. Sean charged over and kicked me again and again! I couldn’t even scream—only broken gasps escaped me. “Stop! Stop it!!” A terrified shout came from the doorway. It was the desk clerk—and behind her stood several police officers!

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Five years ago, I think my life is finally getting fixed—until I find out the evidence that put my adoptive sister Felicity in jail for running me over… was all a lie. Five years ago it came out that my adoptive sister, Felicity, was the one who’d run me over. My parents and my fiancé, Sebastian, stood by me like a wall. Felicity was thrown out that very night. Sebastian made sure she went to jail. Fast forward five years. Christmas Eve. My parents are supposedly abroad. Sebastian says he has to work late—another lastminute excuse. I’m used to it. I feed his disabled sister, Sammy, then head out alone to buy groceries for Christmas dinner. As I pass a flower shop, I see someone I shouldn’t. Felicity—alive, smirking into her phone. “Yeah, I’m buying flowers for my husband. He’s sacrificed so much. I have to spoil him,” she coos. “He’s a CEO. No matter how busy he is, he comes home to me every single day. Five years of marriage, and he’s never asked me to lift a finger. Today’s Christmas. He canceled everything. He’s cooking dinner for me and my parents.” I look up. There he is—Sebastian—walking toward her with grocery bags. And behind him? My parents, the ones who were supposed to be in another country. Sebastian doesn’t see me. He smiles and hooks his arm through Felicity’s. “Hey, honey. Who were you on the phone with?” he asks. Before she can answer, my parents flock to Felicity. My mother presses a candy apple into her hand like she’s a child. My father pats her arm, sighing. “I know you and Sebastian have been married for years, but on paper… it still says Leah’s name. That’s not fair to you,” he says. “You’ve been so patient.” Felicity glows. “It’s not hard,” she murmurs. “As long as I have Mom, Dad, and Sebastian… I’m happy.” Her voice is all humility and suffering, and my parents rush to comfort her. I stay in the shadows, shaking. Felicity never went to jail. She’s been living in the same city as me this whole time. My parents never left the country. They’ve been with her. And my marriage to Sebastian? A lie from the start. I don’t remember how I walk away. I clutch our marriage license and head to City Hall. The clerk frowns. “Ma’am… this license is forged. There’s no record of it here.” “The man on this document, Sebastian Vance? He’s already legally married to someone else.” “Felicity Carter.” The paper slips from my fingers. My hand won’t move. I make it home somehow and push the door open. The place is wrecked. The room I cleaned that morning is covered in Sammy’s waste. The vase on the table is shattered. Sammy’s leg is cut and bleeding, but she doesn’t seem to feel it—she just sits in the mess, grinning at me. This is almost every day. Five years of living in a lie. Five years of drowning in this nightmare. Sebastian built his company from nothing and he’s obsessed with saving money. So no nurse. Just me, taking care of his sister fulltime. “She’s my only family left,” he told me. “You have to be careful with her.” Five years ago I was a rich girl with a bright future. Now I count pennies before buying vegetables. I don’t cry. I fetch water, clean Sammy up, bandage her leg, scrub the floor. Then my phone rings. Sebastian. “Make two extra fish dishes tonight. Bring them to the office. I’m feeding the staff who are working late.” His voice is an order—no please, no thank you—and he hangs up before I can answer. Fish again. Neither of us likes fish. After we were “married,” Sebastian barely ate at home. But every few weeks he asks me to cook fish and take it to his office. I should have known. Felicity loved fish as a kid. Back when we all lived together, my parents used to ask me to cook it for her. Funny. When they first brought me home, they held me and promised I’d never suffer again.

Before I turned twelve, the world felt like nothing but hell. A drafty room. Bare cupboards. Endless chores. Endless beatings. The man who “raised” me was a gambler. Every time he lost, he took it out on me—pressing his cigarette into my arm, laughing at my screams. The woman was no better; she beat me for fun and hated to see me rest. I worked from dawn until midnight. Then, when I was twelve, the Carters found me. Light for the first time in that basement. And my real parents standing over me. It was the middle of summer. My wounds were festering. I smelled like rot. But they didn’t recoil. They held me. Their tears were warm against my neck. That was the first time I ever knew warmth. When I came home with them, I learned I had an adoptive sister. We’d been switched at birth. The people who’d abused me were her biological parents. My parents were good to her. I didn’t mind—I was grateful just to be warm. And then Sebastian arrived like a god. I was behind in school, never properly taught, bullied at every turn. He stood in front of me. He protected me. He taught me what I’d missed. He helped me belong. At sixteen, under the old oak, we promised forever. So when did it all start to fall apart? When Felicity turned eighteen and began faking depression—threatening to kill herself every other week. After that, somehow, I became the villain in their story. My parents looked at me differently. “Leah, Felicity is sick. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” they said, and that was all. Sebastian drifted away too. He paid more attention to Felicity. When I argued, he only frowned and said, “You’ve been way too spoiled.” Then the accident five years ago. I’d just finished my PhD ceremony and walked out of the building. A truck hit me. Bones shattered. I almost died. One foot still bears the limp. My parents stayed at my bedside for a week. Sebastian went after anyone responsible. When evidence showed Felicity had hired the driver, I thought every wrong would finally be made right. I didn’t know then that everything they did was to protect her. I look in the mirror now—bloodshot eyes, a mess of a woman, no trace of the proud girl who clutched her PhD. My chest tightens. I think of Professor Davis—he wanted me as his assistant once—and guilt blooms. My phone buzzes. A text from him. Leah. I’m leaving for France in a month. You were always my best student. Before I go, will you come with me as my assistant? I didn’t cry when my marriage turned out to be a lie. I didn’t cry when I saw my parents hand Felicity candy apples. I didn’t cry through five years of this nightmare. But seeing my professor—the man who treated me like a daughter—still care? I break. I type back before I can think. Thank you. Yes. I’ll come with you. He’s handling the visa and the tickets. I need to pack. That’s when I realize how little I own. Five years. Not one new piece of clothing. Because Sebastian said, “Be frugal.” I’ve been living like a nonperson. I’m still packing when the door opens. Sebastian walks in. He sees the empty dinner table and frowns. “Leah. What the hell?” “Did you feed Sammy? Why isn’t the fish ready?” He fires question after question—none of them asking if I’ve eaten. I look at him. My face is blank. “Why should I do any of it?”

Sebastian’s face freezes. He looks at me like I’m a complete stranger. “What did you just say?” His voice is sharp. “What do you mean, ‘why should you’?” “Leah, have you lost your mind? Are you insane? Do you even hear yourself?!” He snaps out of it fast. Then he swings his bag right at my face. I turn my head just in time to take it on the cheek, but he’s already yelling louder. “I bust my ass every single day! Who do I do it for?!” “I asked you to make one stupid fish dish, and now you’re having a breakdown?!” I feel blood on my lip. It’s split open. I wipe it slowly. Then I look at him. Not quite smiling. Not quite not. “First of all,” I say quietly. “Was that fish really for your employees?” “Second. Sammy is your sister. Not mine. Feeding her? Taking care of her? That’s your job.” Then Sammy hears the yelling from the other room. She starts crying. Stumbling out of bed. She trips and falls flat on the floor. And then she just wails. Loud. Loud enough that the neighbors come out to see what’s going on. Sebastian doesn’t go help his own sister. His face just turns red. Embarrassed. “Leah,” he hisses. “You really want to do this in front of everyone?” I don’t flinch. I pull out our marriage license. And I tear it in half right in his face. “Do what? Finally see you for what you are?” I let out a quiet laugh. “God, I really had you wrong.” “We’re done.” I grab my bag and head for the door. But the neighbors block me. “Sweetheart, we’ve known Sebastian for years,” one of them says. “That man works so hard.” “It’s your job as his wife to support him. Take care of his sister. Don’t make a scene on Christmas.” A few older women snicker. “Sebastian’s a CEO,” one of them scoffs. “And you? What do you even do all day—sit around and live off him? You should be thanking your lucky stars he married you.” “Without him, what would you even do?” I feel sick. They don’t know. None of them know. Sebastian gives me a thousand a month and calls it “frugal.” I work three jobs just to pay for Sammy’s medication and all the household bills. I’m not even angry anymore. I just turn to Sebastian. “Hey,” I say. “Do you really think I’m your wife? Like they all just said?” “Because from where I’m standing… you already have a wife. And it’s not me.” Sebastian stares at the torn pieces of paper on the floor. For a second, his face goes pale. Then something clicks behind his eyes. He laughs. A nasty little laugh. “Oh, I get it,” he says. “You’re mad about the wedding. The ceremony. That’s what this is about.” He pulls out his wallet. Throws fifty dollars on the ground. “Here. Go buy yourself something sweet, hand it out to the neighbors—call it a celebration or whatever.” “I have work to do. I don’t have time for your drama.” He walks away. Fast. Like he’s running. I don’t say anything else. I just turn to leave. But then I see Sammy, still on the floor, crying so hard she can barely breathe. She didn’t ask for any of this. I sigh. Help her up. Walk her back to bed. And when I’m changing her clothes, something falls out of her hand. A photo. A small wedding photo. And in it? Sebastian. In a tux. Holding hands with Felicity. In a white dress. Sammy sees the picture and lights up. “Lici!” she says, grinning. “Lici’s wedding! Lici gave Sammy candy!” I freeze. So much for being “too busy for a ceremony.” So much for “saving money” and “not caring about tradition.” They had a wedding. A real one. And I never even knew. Even Sammy was there. For five years, she’s never once said Felicity’s name like that. With happiness. Now she’s looking at a picture of Felicity with Sebastian… and smiling. The last bit of warmth inside me goes dark.

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My mother was the the heroine of a tragic novel. When she died, the four men who’d been at her side found me alive inside her. That’s how I ended up with four fathers. One of them became a don—Don Julian Ashford, a man whose name makes men straighten their collars. One of them ran the muscle and the private army—General Marcus Ashford. One of a medical genius who could cheat death—Dr. Silas Ashford. The last was the chief enforcer, a martial arts master—Sir Cedric Ashford. They spoiled me like a princess. Every girl in the Millbrook city envied me. Until the year I turned eighteen. That was when they found her. Jade Sinclair came back—the daughter of their lost love. From that day, my four fathers became strangers. Jade said I insulted her; Don Father had my mouth sewn shut and starved me for three days. Jade said I poisoned her. Doctor Father threw me into the Pit—his underground chamber of venomous insects. The venomous insects chewed through my face and ate one of my eyes. When Jade claimed I hired men to assault her, Sir Father dragged me by the collar to the family camp—forced me into sexual servitude. Three years. I went from fighting to accepting. One night, my door was opened again. I started taking off my clothes like I always did. Then I heard someone say, “Ivy. Do you want to go back to your mother?” …….. I snapped my head up. There was no one in the room. At the same time, a voice appeared in my head again. It said it was my mother’s System. That she had left in a hurry years ago and never knew I survived. Now she knew, and she wants to bring me home. If this body dies, I can see my mother. Then *The System* said, “Ivy, your mother has been so worried since she learned you exist. Would you be willing—” I didn’t let it finish. I grabbed a blade and pressed it to my throat without hesitation. Yes. Finally. My mother is alive! And soon I was going to see her. I was so happy I forgot to be afraid of death. But before I could cut, something slammed into my hand. The pain made me drop the blade. A foot stomped on it. “Ivy Lane. are you trying to kill yourself?” The familiar voice made me look up. “Sir Father.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. As expected, the man frowned at the name. “Don’t call me that. I cut ties with you long time ago.”

He was Sir Cedric Ashford. When I was little, a rival boss kidnapped me. Cedric climbed the enemy’s family on his knees, and took three stab wounds, six holes through his body, just to bring me back unharmed. After I was rescued, I cried at the sight of his wounds. He patted my head and said the cuts meant nothing to him. He said when he saw me cry, he hurt with it. He used to love me the most. Nut that love disappeared four years ago, when General Father brought Jade back from the Mafia war. I always knew my four fathers shared a lost love. But I didn’t know it wasn’t my mother. It was Jade’s mother. They were said to be the four sons of one of Millbrook City’s most feared mafia kings. Because the Rival Mafia Family feared of the boys would one day rise to power, their enemies sent mercenaries and killers to hunt them down. My mother, still a child then, hid the four boys and sent them to masters to train. After learning their skills, and with my mother’s help, they rose up and succeeded. Don Julian became the new mafia boss in the Millbrook City and cleared their group name. People said my mother and Don Julian had been in love. But when she was about to marry him, Jade’s mother appeared. The moment she arrived, she drew the four men’s attention. After that, People also said my mother very jealous, she often hurt Jade’s mother; and later, my mother killed herself out of jealousy. After my mother’s death, Jade’s mother vanished. Only when Jade returned did the fathers learn that Jade’s mother had left because she felt guilty over my mother’s death. To be honest, I don’t believe those stories. My instinct tells me my mother was not the villain; Jade’s mother was. But the fathers don’t trust my instinct. They even think my mother and I are the same, fighting for their attention. So every time Jade and I clashed, they sided with her. Soon I went from the pampered little princess to a whore to a thousand men. Sir Cedric picked up the blade and glanced at the wound on my throat. Then his wrist turned. The blade came straight for me. I stumbled back two steps on reflex. The flash of steel passed. A new cut appeared on my neck. Sir Cedric sneered, “If you want to die that badly, what are you hiding from?” “You’re just like your mother—cheap, always hurting yourself to get attention.” “She was smarter than you, at least. She always did it in front of all four of us. You pick this kind of miserable place. You’ve really lost your mind.”

I am about to explain that I am not acting. But then I remember—no one ever believed my explanations before. I bow my head. “You’re right, Sir Cedric. May I ask why you bothered to come all the way here? Was it to watch me put on a show?” Cedric freezes for a moment. “Don’t flatter yourself. Today is Jade’s birthday. She said she’s willing to forgive you and make peace. I am here to take you to see her.” Three days ago, I heard that Don Julian would name Jade Princess of Mafia and there’d be a parade today. I’m a year older than her; that title is the one Don Julian gave me when I was ten. If this were before, if someone tried to take what was mine, I would have made a scene. No one would have had a good time. Now I just tell Sir Cedric without expression, “I don’t want to go.” Cedric pauses, then says, “That’s not up to you.” He grabbed me by the arm and hauled me out. He takes me back to his place to cleaned me up, dressed me, and then rushed me toward the toward the manor. Sitting in the carriage, Cedric talks nonstop in my ear. He tells me to kneel before Jade. Not to make her angry again. My heart aches. I watch the carriage go faster and faster. The thought of seeing my mother grows stronger and stronger in my mind. Without thinking, I lift the curtain and jump out. I haven’t hit the ground before someone gasps. I think at that speed I’ll surely die. But the pain I expect never comes. Instead, I fall into a warm embrace. Cedric catches me. We roll on the ground twice. His furious voice explodes above my head. “Ivy, are you insane?” I look at him. He’s bleeding—bright red across his face where my head struck him. I reach up to wipe it off. His face goes hard. “Can you stop playing these games? You want to see if I care? I’ll tell you—me saving you means nothing. I’d save a stranger the same way. If I’d known you were planning this, I wouldn’t have jumped. ” “From now on, if you want to die, go ahead. I won’t stop you.” My hand freezes in midair. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the moat not far away. I smile bitterly. “All right, Sir Cedric. Remember what you said.” Before he can react, I spring up and, without looking back, hurl myself into the water. He had nearly drowned as a child. Water was his one fear. He said those cruel things knowing he might not jump in after me. So when the freezing water rushed into my lungs, I felt nothing but relief. Finally—I am going to see my mother.

I don’t know how much time passes. Then the darkness fades. I sit up eagerly, ready to find my mother—but someone slaps me across the face. I fall to the ground. “Bitch!” Doctor Father’s voice snarls above me. His face is twisted with anger. “All we asked was for you to do some light work at the camp. And the moment you see your Sir Father, you put on this act? Do you know he almost drowned because of you?” Of all four fathers, Doctor Father and I were the closest. The others were too busy, so almost he raised me. He taught me to read, to write, to recognize herbs and practice medicine. He was always gentle. No matter how badly I messed up, he guided me patiently. He never once punished me. But the day Jade came back, he hit me for the first time. Jade had brushed against one of his venomous insects and claimed I’d planted it on her. He took a whip to my back. “This is my fault for not teaching you better—treating lives like a joke?,” he said. Later, when Jade said I poisoned her again, Doctor Father fed me a pill that attracted insects and threw me into the Pit. Tens of thousands of bugs crawled into my body. they ate through my flesh and took one of my eyes. He tried to save me afterward, but I still lost one eye. I don’t say anything for now. He thinks my silence means I agree. His anger rises. He raises his hand to hit me again. Sir Father stops him. “Silas, calm down. Today is Jade’s enfeoffment ceremony as Princess of Mafia. Ivy can’t handle it. She’s already tried to kill herself three times in front of me.” I glance at Sir Father. He has changed his clothes. His wounds are bandaged. But his face is pale. I remember what Doctor Father said: “he almost drowned because of you.” He saved me again. Sir Father can’t swim. He must have used every bit of strength to pull me out. Doctor Father snorts. “Cedric, you were fooled. She’s used this stunt before—just to get attention.” Sir Father hesitates. Then, as if relieved, he says, “So that’s it.” Doctor Father looks at me again. “Ivy, today is Jade’s birthday. Make a scene in front of us if you must, but don’t drag it up to the another fathers—you know how they are…” Before he can finish, i have already lunged toward the medical case behind him. I have lived with Doctor Father long enough to know exactly where he keeps the poisons. I open the case. Find the deadliest one and swallowed it before anyone could stop me. Doctor Father’s face goes white.

The poison is bitter. But I am happy. Doctor Father once told me this poison has no antidote. If I take it, I will die. Doctor Father only freezes for a few seconds. Then he shoves his fingers into my mouth. “You’re insane. Do you know what that is?” He wrenched my jaw open and shoved his fingers down my throat. His large hand patted my back forcefully. Black blood trickled out of my mouth. He watches. Waits. When the blood running from me fades from black to red, Doctor Father lets out a breath. “Ivy, it was just a title. Was it worth dying over?” Sir Father looks shaken too. Now he believes I really want to die. His voice trembles. “Ivy, don’t do anything stupid. Yesterday the four of us talked to Jade. She agreed to forgive you. After today, you can come back to the mansion. Julian will make you the anther Princess of Mafia. Just stop trying to die. We’ll go back to how things used to be. Okay?” Hearing that, tears spill from my eyes. They think I’m moved. Then I drop to my knees in front of them. “Doctor Father. Sir Father. Please. Just let me die.” Doctor Father explodes with rage. “Ivy, didn’t you hear what we said—” “I heard.” There is no point hiding it anymore. “But I don’t want to go back to the house. I want to find my mother.” I tell them everything I heard in my head today. Their expressions grow more and more complicated. Finally, Doctor Father pulls me to my feet. “Ivy, listen to me. Your mother is really dead.” He tells me my mother jumped into a lake. Don Father pulled her out. Doctor Father used every skill he had and still couldn’t save her. After she died, the four of them cut me out of her belly. Then they stayed by her body for seven days and seven nights. They watched her rot. Watched her disappear from this world. Doctor Father says what I heard might be a hallucination from shock. He suggests I stay with him if I won’t return to the house—if I behave, he won’t let anyone hurt me again. I am about to shake my head when the sound of hooves slams through the courtyard. I am about to shake my head when the sound of hooves slams through the courtyard. Moments later Don Father and General Father rush in. frantic. “Silas, Cedric—have you seen Jade? She’s missing!”

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Before our Mating Ceremony, my mate Damien withdraws our Mating Application overnight, then submits one with Nora. Nora, the younger sister of his late Beta. When I hear the news, there is only one day left before the deadline. Warrior Sam looks troubled as he explains for Damien. “Luna, Alpha says saving a life is the highest honor for our kind.” “It is a fake bond, just to let Nora stay in the Blackwood Pack for treatment. Only you can understand his intention.” I tear the application that was meant for our honeymoon into pieces. “I don’t understand, but I’ll let him have his way.” The scraps scatter across the floor. Sam’s face turns red. “Luna, Alpha, he also…” “Call me Healer Lola,” I say calmly. Sam freezes. His mouth opens, then he lowers his head. “Yes, Healer Lola.” “Alpha asked me to tell you, once Nora settles in the pack, he will end the bond with her and form a mate bond with you right away.” “He says you are the only one in his heart.” I gather the herbs on the table and place them into a box. “Who he keeps in his heart is his business.” “My application can only be submitted once.” “Go tell him, my mate slot has no backup.” Sam’s face goes pale. He wants to say something, but my phone rings. “Healer Lola, a patient’s condition just turned critical. We need you now.” “I’m on my way.” I hang up and put on my healer robe. Before I leave, I glance at Sam. “Anything else?” He shakes his head and steps aside. I walk out of the office. At the end of the hallway, I see Damien. He is in his combat uniform, standing by the window. Nora stands beside him, holding a coat, about to drape it over his shoulders. Damien does not turn around. He just looks out the window. Nora sees me. Her hand pauses in midair, and she gives me a smile. I look away and walk into the ward. Memories flood my mind. I have known Damien for twenty-two years. We grow up together. He drives away the male wolves who bully me. I mend his torn battle gear. He becomes Alpha, respected by the entire Blackwood Pack. I become the best healer. In everyone’s eyes, we are fated mates. He sets the largest room in the Pack House as our mate residence. The day we get the key, he lifts me up and spins me three times in our new home. He laughs. “Lola, this is our home from now on.” I wrap my arms around his neck. “Damien, welcome home.” I handle the entire renovation myself. As Alpha, Damien often goes to the border. I take half a month off and run across the whole territory to find materials. The day he returns, I cover his eyes. He opens them and looks at the new home. He says nothing for a long time. Then he pulls me into a tight hug. His eyes turn red. “Lola, you worked so hard.” I shake my head. “It’s not hard. I want to do it.” The day we submit our Mating Application, the whole pack celebrates. Damien’s mother holds my hand and places the Luna crown on my head. “Lola, I am your mother now. If Damien ever hurts you, tell me. I will deal with him.” I smile and nod. My eyes grow warm. Damien puts a ring on my finger and whispers in my ear. “Lola, you are my only mate.”

Nora appears one month after we submit our Mating Application. She is the sister of Ryan, Damien’s Beta who died. Ryan dies in a battle with another pack while protecting Damien. It has always been a thorn in Damien’s heart. Nora’s parents are long gone. Ryan is her only family. By pack rules, a lone wolf with no family is sent to the Neutral Lands. The conditions there are harsh, and there are no professional healers. Nora was born with a weak wolf. Damien brings her back from the Neutral Lands and settles her in the pack guesthouse. He tells me, “Lola, this is my responsibility.” I nod. “I understand.” I go with him to visit Nora. The girl is small and thin, wearing old clothes that do not fit. When she sees Damien, her eyes light up, then she lowers her head and speaks softly. “Brother Damien.” Damien hands her the food. “From now on, treat this place as your home.” Nora shakes her head. Tears fall. “I don’t have a home anymore.” Damien’s body stiffens. I walk over and take Nora’s hand. “Don’t cry. From now on, we are your family.” I take her to buy new clothes and bring her to eat good food. I even want her to move into our mate residence. Damien refuses.“It’s not convenient.” I think he is worried about me. Now I realize, he is worried about himself. Nora starts to look for Damien often. Today it is a headache, tomorrow a stomachache, the day after she cannot sleep. No matter what Damien is handling, he goes to her right away. Rumors start in the pack. They say Damien treats Nora better than me, his mate. I do not care. I trust Damien. I trust the bond we build over twenty years. Until the day we submit our Mating Application, we have a party. I wear a white dress and hold Damien’s arm. He looks handsome that day. Standing together, we receive nothing but blessings. A pack elder just walks up to us with a glass of wine when Damien’s phone rings. He glances at it. His expression changes. He says “Excuse me” and walks out with his phone. I stand there. My smile freezes on my face. The hall falls silent. All eyes are on me. Damien’s mother walks over and presses my hand. “Lola, ignore him. We continue.” I force a smile and drink the wine. It burns. Damien comes back soon. He walks to me and lowers his voice. “Lola, I need to go.” “Nora is at the guesthouse. Her wolf loses control. She hurts herself and loses a lot of blood.” My heart sinks. “How is she?” “I don’t know. The staff called. They say it is serious.” There is panic in his voice I have never heard before. I look at him. “Damien, today is our application day. She has been taken to the Healer House, and the healers will take care of her.” He avoids my eyes. “I know.” “But she’s in bad shape. She needs me now.” “I will explain when I come back.” He does not look at me again. He turns and leaves. I watch his back disappear at the door. I almost drop the glass in my hand. That night, I drink the rest of the wine alone. Damien does not come back. Early the next morning, I get a call from the Healer House. A wolf warrior is badly injured. I rush there, change into my healer robe, and work for eight hours straight. When it is over, it is already dark. I take off my robe and get ready to go home. In the hallway, I see Damien and Nora in a ward. Nora wears a hospital gown. Her face is pale. Her hands are wrapped in thick bandages. Damien holds a bowl of soup and feeds her one spoon at a time. “Eat a little more. You haven’t eaten all day.” Nora shakes her head. Her eyes fill with tears. “Brother Damien, I can’t eat.” “Am I useless? I only bring you trouble.” Damien puts the bowl down and gently touches her head. “Don’t think like that. I am here.” “Your brother is gone. I will take care of you for the rest of my life.” Nora cries harder. She leans into his arms, her shoulders shaking. “Brother Damien, you are so good to me.” Damien holds her and pats her back softly. I stand there and watch them. My phone alarm rings. It reminds me that today is my birthday. Damien hears it and looks up. He sees me. His expression stiffens for a moment, then he stands. “Lola, let me explain.” Nora sees me too. She peeks out from behind him and calls softly. “Healer Lola.” I look at them and suddenly feel it is ridiculous. I say nothing and turn to leave. Damien chases after me and grabs my hand. “Lola, don’t be mad.” “Nora, she just…” “Let go.” My voice is cold. He freezes. I shake off his hand and walk away without looking back. That night, I go back to our mate residence alone. I open a bottle of wine and sit on the floor. My phone is filled with dozens of messages from Damien. “Lola, I’m sorry.” “Lola, where are you?” “Lola, reply to me.” I do not reply to any of them. I just hold the bottle and drink it slowly. “Happy birthday, Lola.” I whisper to myself.

After that, we fall into a cold war. Damien comes to the Healer House every day to see me. I ask the other healers to tell him I am busy. So he waits outside my office from morning till night. Everyone in the Healer House sees it. One healer quietly asks me, “Lola, did you fight with Alpha Damien?” I shake my head. “No.” It is not a fight. It is disappointment. A week later, Damien blocks me in the parking lot. He leans against my car door. “Lola, what do you want?” His voice is tired. “Let’s talk.” I look at him and say nothing. He pulls the door open and pushes me into the passenger seat. Then he gets into the driver’s seat and starts the car. He drives fast. In the end, he stops in front of our mate residence. “Lola, I know I was wrong.” “That day, I shouldn’t have left.” “I shouldn’t have stayed with someone else on your birthday.” “But I had no choice.” “Nora, she… she is too pitiful.” “She has no parents since she was young. Her only brother is gone.” “She is alone here, with no one to rely on.” “If I don’t take care of her, she will die.” I listen to him and stay silent. He turns and looks at me. “Lola, you are the most generous, the kindest.” “You are not like her.” “You are strong and independent. Even without me, you can live well.” “But she can’t.” “If she leaves me, she won’t survive.” I finally lift my head and look at him. “So?” “So you sacrifice me to make her whole?” He is stunned by my question. “That’s not what I mean.” “Then what do you mean? Damien, tell me, what am I to you?” He falls silent. The air in the car turns cold. After a long time, he speaks. “Lola, you are the only she-wolf I want to form a mate bond with in this life.” “I love you.” He says he loves me. But those three words sound like a joke to me.

After that talk, Damien still gives Nora everything she asks for. Nora still accepts his care like it is only natural. The only change is that they start to avoid me. Damien stops coming to the Healer House to see me. He stops texting me and calling me. We are in the same pack, yet it feels like we are far apart. Sometimes, when I get off work and go home, I see his car parked under the guesthouse where Nora lives. It stays there the whole night. Sometimes, when I eat in the dining hall, I hear some wolves talking. They say Damien takes Nora to see a new movie. They say Damien buys Nora an expensive bag. They say Nora has already moved into our mate residence. I do not go to check. I am afraid they are all true. My heart feels like it is burning on fire. It hurts, but makes no sound. I cannot sleep. Night after night, I stay awake. When I close my eyes, I see Damien and Nora together. I lose a lot of weight. All the healers can see it. The Chief Elder of the Healer House calls me in. “Lola, something is wrong with you lately.” “Did something happen?” I shake my head. “No.” “Maybe I am just too tired from work.” The elder gives me leave and tells me to rest well. My heart feels empty. I do not know where to go. In the end, I go back to our mate residence. I think I need an answer. I also need an ending. I open the door. A scent that is not mine hits me. A pair of high heels sits by the shoe cabinet. Pink, with lace. It is Nora’s style. Damien’s coat is on the couch in the living room. I walk in step by step. The bedroom door is slightly open. Inside, there is a woman’s laughter and a man’s low voice. My legs feel heavy. I stand at the door, but I do not have the courage to push it open. At that moment, the door opens from inside. Nora walks out wearing my pajamas. When she sees me, she freezes for a second. Then she smiles.“Healer Lola, you’re back.” Her hair is wet. She smells like body wash. I look at her, my whole body shaking. “Where is Damien?” Nora feigns a shy look and points behind her.“Brother Damien is in the shower. He says he is very tired today.” I follow where she points. Inside the bedroom, our bed is a mess. Two empty glasses sit on the nightstand. A loud crack goes off in my mind. My wolf roars inside me. I turn and run. I do not know how long I run or where I go. There is only one thought in my head. I never want to go back to that place again.

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I was born with a large chest. My body was cursed. That’s what the wood nymphs whispered behind my back, my breasts like ripe figs, so full they looked ready to burst, my waist thin as a grapevine you could snap with one hand. When I walked, those two soft mounds would sway, and even the wind stopped to stare. My mother was a priestess in the Temple of the Moon. She got pregnant at the sacred altar and died giving birth to me, refusing to the very end to name my father. The night she died, twelve laurel trees bloomed silver outside the temple. By dawn, every last petal had fallen. The priestess gathered around my cradle and called me an omen. A nymph too beautiful, they said, in the sacred grove of Artemis, was a disaster waiting to happen. I grew up in that grove, treated like a slave. They wrapped me in thick wool robes from neck to ankle, made me hunch my shoulders and lower my head, forbade me from ever looking a man in the eye. “Thena,” the high priestess Teya said, jabbing her finger into my forehead. “You think that body of yours is for seducing men? This is Artemis’s sacred grove. Step out of line, and I’ll feed you to the sea monster Scylla myself.” I didn’t know what stepping out of line meant. All I knew was the ache in my chest from the bindings they made me wear. In summer, the fabric rubbed my skin raw. In winter, the cold turned my fingers blue. But no matter how tight I wrapped, those two stubborn mounds pushed through, refusing to disappear. I cried into the spring more times than I could count, begging my mother to tell me why she gave me this body. The spring never answered. Only the wind rustling through the laurel leaves. Everything changed on a spring evening. Helios’s chariot had just crossed the sky, painting the grove gold and rose. I was walking back from the stream with a clay jug on my shoulder, water sloshing, when I heard sounds coming from the olive grove behind the temple. Muffled sounds. The kind you’re not supposed to hear. I put down the jug and crept closer. Teya was on her knees. Her robe had slipped down to her waist, exposing the dry, wrinkled skin of her back. And standing in front of her was a man I’d never seen before… No. Not a man. A god. He was shirtless, his body carved like a statue, every muscle holding enough force to level a city. Dark brown curls hung past his shoulders. His eyes were amber, burning like twin fires in the twilight. He had Teya by the chin, tilting her old face up to his. “Tell me,” he said, his voice low, like a blade dragging across a shield. “Who’s the most beautiful nymph in this grove?” Teya trembled. “The… the moon goddess’s handmaidens…” “No.” He let her go, his gaze sweeping past her, past the olive branches, past the floating dust motes in the golden light, and landing straight on me. My blood turned cold. His eyes moved down my face, past my trembling lips, and stopped at my chest, pressed tight against the edge of the clay jug, rising and falling with every panicked breath. “You.” He walked toward me, and with every step, the leaves on the ground seemed to shrink back. “What’s your name?” “Thena…” “Thena.” He rolled the name across his tongue like he was tasting it. The corner of his mouth lifted. “Are you afraid of me?” I nodded. Then shook my head. His scent was too much, iron and blood, the smell of a battlefield. It made my knees weak. “I’m Ares,” he said. “God of War.” I knew who he was. Son of Zeus and Hera. Every nymph knew the stories, once a god like him set his sights on you, there was no escape. My knees buckled. The clay jug slipped from my fingers. Ares reached out. His fingers hooked the strip of fabric binding my chest, moving so slowly I had all the time in the world to run. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. He pulled.

The linen tore like butterfly wings. My body, bound and hidden for seventeen years, broke free and stood naked in the twilight, bare to his eyes, to the fading sunlight, to the wind. I gasped. Tried to move back, but my feet wouldn’t obey. His gaze dropped to my chest. His pupils flared. His amber eyes filled with something I didn’t understand, something hungry and wild, like a man who’d been walking through a desert for a thousand years and finally found water. “Teya,” he said, his voice gone rough. “You were right. This body really is cursed.” He paused, bent his head, and brought his nose within a breath of my collarbone. “Cursed by me.” He inhaled. The warmth of his breath hit my skin, setting off a ripple of goosebumps down my neck, my arms, my spine. “You smell like…” His lips brushed my earlobe. “Spring.” I shoved him. I don’t know where the strength came from, but my palms hit his chest solid. I felt his heartbeat, loud and fast, just like a mortal man’s. I staggered back, stumbling over shards of the broken jug. Blood welled from my foot, but I didn’t feel it. “Don’t touch me!” I screamed. Ares didn’t follow. He stood there, watching me flee, watching my hair whip in the wind, watching my bare shoulders disappear into the trees. Then he bent down and picked up the torn strip of linen, still warm from my skin. He lifted it to his nose. “Thena,” he said, like a spell. The sound followed me through the olive grove, through the laurel trees, through the dying light. It sank into my bones. That night, every nymph in the grove heard me crying. I curled up in the darkest corner of the moon temple, moonlight falling cold through the high windows. I tried to wrap my chest again with the torn cloth, but my fingers shook too badly to tie the knots. Tears soaked my knees, my dress, the stone floor. Teya found me. The marks from Ares’s fingers were still fresh on her cheek, purple and swollen. She looked down at me with eyes that held nothing but disgust. “You think you can run from this?” Her voice echoed off the temple walls. “When a god like Ares wants something, no one stops him. No one.” I looked up through my tears. She bent down, close enough that her lips almost touched my ear. “I heard Ares was badly wounded at Troy. A spear went through his thigh. Right through the tendon.” She didn’t finish. She didn’t need to. A god who couldn’t perform. “Lucky you,” she said, her voice turning light, almost cheerful. “Better a broken god than a beast. At least you won’t have to bear children.” She patted my cheek. “Besides, they say men who can’t do it in bed make up for it in other ways.” “I don’t want to marry him…” “Don’t want?” Teya’s face went dark. “Who do you think you are? A bastard with no father. Ares wants you, that’s more than you deserve. If it weren’t for that body of yours, that slut’s body, a war god wouldn’t even look at you.” She spat the word slut like it was poison. I cried again. That night I dreamed. Ares’s hands moved up my legs, and everywhere he touched, my skin caught fire. His lips pressed against my stomach, and I heard his voice, low and shaking, like the ground opening up beneath me: “Thena. You can’t escape me.” I woke soaked in sweat. My hair was plastered to my face, my neck. The blanket had slid to the floor. Between my legs, a heat I’d never felt before, spreading through me like spring floods breaking through ice. I bit my lip until I tasted blood. Shame shook me down to my bones. Outside, the moon hung cold in the sky.

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It was the summer I turned eighteen that I tried to seduce my godfather for the first time. And he pressed his gun under my chin. I wore a white slip dress so thin it might as well have been water, straddling the lap of Sicily’s most ruthless godfather, pressing his own Beretta 92F against my jaw. Cold metal. Burning palm. That cross tattoo on his hand branded my skin like it was trying to sear itself into me. “You are crossing the line, Lola.” His voice came through clenched teeth. His throat bobbed. But his eyes—those Mediterranean-deep eyes that hid whirlpools beneath still surfaces—stuck to the hollow below my collarbone. To the mole there. The one he’d seen when he bathed me ten years ago. I leaned forward. My lips grazed the gun barrel, tasting oil and leather and something darker. “Then kill me,” I whispered. My legs tightened around his waist. Through his towel, I felt him harden—felt the war in his body between protector and predator. “Or claim me. Your choice… Uncle Asher.” His pupils blew wide. Black swallowed the blue. * The ocean crashed against the cliffs outside. Same sound as that night ten years ago. I still remembered everything. The gunshots tearing through cicada songs. The blood hitting piano keys—warm, so warm it steamed. The rough hands dragging me from a pile of corpses, fitting headphones over my ears, playing something loud and ancient. “Count to one hundred,” he’d said. “Then I’ll be back.” I counted to thirty-seven. He kissed my forehead—his lips burning, his hands shaking. I counted to sixty-eight. More gunshots. I counted to one hundred. He returned covered in blood, lifted me into his arms, carried me to the car. Since then, I never celebrated another birthday. And never looked forward to summer. Except for him flying back to this seaside villa every July to spend this damn anniversary with me. Ten years. Ten summers. Then times he handed me gifts, said “Happy summer vacation, little princess,” then vanished into his study like I was something to be locked away. But this year I was eighteen. Legally adult. And physically— I looked down at my dress. The fabric clung like a second skin, nipples visible, hipbones sharp. I knew I was ready. The shower stopped. Also stopped my heart. The doorknob turned. I pushed the door open. Steam poured out, and there he was. Thirty when he saved me. Forty now. Time had carved him—fine lines at the corners of his eyes, a sharper jaw, that permanent five-o’clock shadow. But those eyes. God, those eyes. Mediterranean depths. Surface calm. Undercurrents that could drag you under and drown you underneath. His towel sat low. Water tracked from his collarbone, down his chest, over the ridges of his abs, disappearing into— “Lola.” He pinned me in place with my name. “What are you doing in my room?” “This year I prepared a special gift.” I untied my robe. Silk slid off my shoulders with a whisper. The slip dress left nothing hidden. His gaze moved over me like touch—shoulders to waist to thighs. I watched his throat work. Watched his hand tighten on the towel. “I’m eighteen,” I said, stepping closer. “Not a little girl anymore.”

Close enough to smell him. Mint soap over tobacco and leather — the scent of him that haunted my dreams. I caught his wrist, guided him toward the bed, felt the tension in his muscles. Like a leopard deciding whether to snap his prey’s neck. I fell back onto the mattress, looking up at him. “Lola, I’m your…” “I know who you are,” I said. “The godfather. My father’s best friend. The man who raised me. But remember that summer night, that summer night you saved me? It’s not just my life.” I took his hand. Pressed it to my chest — my heart hammering against his palm. “You didn’t just save my life. You stole my soul. It’s been yours ever since.” His eyes went dark. Dangerous. Then his hand moved— Not to caress me. To the pillow beneath my head. Then the gun barrel pressed under my chin. I didn’t close my eyes. I stuck out my tongue. Licked the metal. His breath hitched. His finger whitened on the trigger. That cross tattoo swam in my vision—the one I’d seen a thousand times over these ten years. The one on the hand that held the pen when I handed him the document; on the hand that supported my waist when I was taught to swim; on the hand that fed me medicine when I had a fever last summer. Now this hand trembled. “I don’t care,” I breathed, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Next summer, I’ll come again. The summer after. Every summer.” I wrapped my lips around the cold steel, staring into his eyes. “Claim me. Or kill me.” Silence crushed us. Outside, waves beat the cliffs like a heartbeat, just like they had ten years ago. Then he threw the gun. The Beretta hit the carpet with a dull thud. His towel fell. In one violent motion, he snatched the bedsheet, wrapped it around me—rough, angry, tucking the edges against my shoulders like he was trying to sew me inside. Hide me from the world. From himself. “Say that again,” his voice rasped, “and you’ll learn what happens when you provoke me.” He killed the lights. Walked out. The door slammed in the dark. I sat on the bed, sheet clutched to my chin, counting my heartbeats. One hundred seven. One hundred eight. One hundred nine— “I won’t give up, Uncle Asher!” I shouted into the darkness, laughing to tears. “Next summer. I’ll be here. Every year! Until you say yes!” Footsteps paused at the stairs’ end. One second. Two. Then faded away. Moonlight spilled through the window, landing on the nightstand. On the battered teddy bear he’d given me ten years ago. Nose chewed bald by me. Ear sewn back three times. I curled around it, buried my face in familiar fur. Couldn’t smell lavender. Couldn’t smell blood. Only smelled myself. Exactly like ten years ago.

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On my mating day to Prince Ronan, his true mate slips Barrenbane into my wine. That day, I become barren. When they catch her, she just sobs, “Just a joke! I didn’t think she’d really drink it.” “I’m sorry, my Prince. Let me give you pups. She can raise them.” Ronan turns to me and says, “Aurora, you’re my Luna. In name, and that’s enough. Show some grace. You don’t have to carry pups now. Seraphina will do that for you. What more could you possibly want?” My father’s pack never bowed to any Lycan. We made kings. And we broke them—with our own claws.That’s why the crown wanted this bond. Seraphina and Ronan rule the pack together. She gives him four pups. Everyone knows Seraphina—his true mate. Nobody remembers me. The political Luna. The placeholder. I wither away in the back rooms. Seraphina smiles down at me. “You’ve kept the Luna’s seat warm for me long enough, you barren bitch. If we hadn’t needed your father’s warriors to put my Prince on top, you’d never have touched that title. Not for one night.” “Aurora, tomorrow I become Lycan King. My true mate will be Queen. You’re still breathing—why?” Seraphina grabs my jaw and wrenches my mouth open. Ronan tips the bowl. The poison pours down my throat. My wolf thrashes inside me，then goes still. Darkness takes everything. No sound. No scent. No pack bond. Just… nothing. Then,my heart slams back into my chest. I gasp. Air floods my lungs. My eyes snap open. I’m back on my Mating Day. “Please—Prince, Luna—drink the Rite Wine,” the elder announces from the center of the mating chamber. I stare at the cup in front of me. Seraphina was sloppy. There’s still powder dusting the rim. A cold smile curls across my lips. Without anyone noticing, I pick up Ronan’s cup and slide mine toward him. “I’d like to swap cups with you, my Prince. They say it binds two wolves into one. Your scent in my nose. Mine in yours.” The elder nods. “Your scents will mix. Your wolves will recognize one mate forever.” Ronan lifts the cup. We drink together. The guests erupt in cheers. Before the cups even touch the table, the doors swing open. “Oh my—you’ve already drunk it?” Seraphina glides in with a breathless little laugh. She’s dressed like she’s here to seduce, not celebrate. Her eyes land on my empty cup. She claps a hand over her mouth—the picture of shocked innocence, and tears spring to her eyes on command. Then she turns to Ronan, wearing terror like a costume. “I’m so sorry, my Prince. I didn’t mean any harm. I just wanted to play a little trick on your Luna, that’s all. I… I put something in her cup.” I gasp, letting the color drain from my face. “Who are you? Why would you put that in my wine?” The guests break into murmurs. Someone speaks up: “Seraphina, I know you grew up with the Prince, but this is his Mating Day. How dare you joke about poison?” Ronan rises and steps in front of Seraphina like a shield. He frowns at me. “Luna, this is Seraphina. She grew up in the palace. We’ve known each other since we were pups. She’s a little spoiled, that’s all. Just let it go.” Then he turns to her, voice sharp. “What are you doing here? I told you—no trouble today. How dare you pull something like this?” I ignore how close their bodies are. I fix my stare on her, cold and unblinking. “Seraphina. Tell me. What did you put in my wine?” My handmaiden finally snaps out of it. “Someone fetch the Royal Healer! Now!” Seraphina clutches Ronan’s sleeve, weeping prettily. “My Prince, I’m not a bad person. I was on my way here and I passed a shop selling Barrenbane. It looked… interesting, so I bought some. I thought I’d give your Luna a little scare on her mating night—teach her to mind her Prince.” “I was going to stop you before you drank. But I tripped outside—I was late. I had no idea she’d already finished it.” “Barrenbane?” I press a hand to my chest and sink into the chair. “That potion will leave a wolf barren—no pups, ever. And this wine was blessed by the King himself.” My voice cracks through the room. “Guards—take her away.” Seraphina shrieks and throws herself into Ronan’s arms, crying beautifully, artfully. “My Prince, I didn’t mean it! I really, truly didn’t! And who even knows if this Barrenbane is real? What if it’s fake?” “Is your Luna really going to have me killed over a counterfeit potion?” Ronan holds her gently—tenderly—and looks at me. “Aurora, Seraphina is young. It was just a joke. She never wanted this to happen.” “Don’t worry. You’re my Luna. Even if you drank Barrenbane, I won’t reject you. The title is yours.” Seraphina drops to her knees, eyes red-rimmed, tears streaming in perfect rivulets down her cheeks. “It’s all my fault. It’s too late for words now. Let me make it right.” “Your Luna can’t bear pups anymore. Then let me be the one to carry your bloodline. I’ll give you pups—and she can raise them. That’s how I’ll atone.” The exact same words as last time. But this time, I won’t be that fool. My eyes narrow to slits and my voice cuts through the chamber like a blade. “You tried to end my bloodline. That’s a crime against the royal family. You deserve death.”

Ronan pulls her to her feet and turns on me with a scowl. “That’s enough. She said she was sorry. She didn’t mean it. Today is our mating day—are you really going to have her killed over some stupid potion?” “A Luna should have some grace, Aurora. You’re being petty. What kind of Luna are you?” He says it like I’m the unreasonable one. I laugh, quietly, to myself. Last time around, he said the exact same things. No grace. Too petty. I swallowed my pride back then. I told myself I was being the bigger person. Being smart. All I did was walk right into their trap. That’s how I ended up where I did. I remember dying. It claws at my chest. My hands curl into fists. “She tried to poison your Luna. And you just let her go? Is that fair??” “Where’s my pack’s honor when a low-rank omega’s daughter can pull something like this and just walk away?” Ronan’s jaw tightens. “It’s done. What—you want me to rip her throat out? She didn’t mean any harm.” The whole room is buzzing now. Word has already reached the guests outside. One of the Royal Council elders steps forward to mediate. “Her Grace, Luna Aurora, the Council agrees this is a serious matter. Seraphina will be punished. But today is your mating day. Don’t let this spiral. Think of the kingdom’s unity.” Right. All they care about is keeping the peace. I look at Ronan. “You truly think what she did is nothing?” He’s too busy stroking Seraphina’s hair, murmuring comfort to his precious true mate. He waves me off without even looking at me. “She apologized. She’ll scrub the palace floors for a month. That’s the end of it.” She tries to poison the Luna—and the punishment is mopping floors. I nearly laugh out loud. Good thing I’m not the one who drank that poison this time. A few of the female guests lean close and whisper, “Luna, call the Royal Healer anyway. Perhaps he can still reverse it.” Seraphina cuts in immediately. “No! Call the Healer on mating night? That’s bad luck for everyone.” Ronan nods. “Seraphina’s right. Tomorrow is soon enough.” My handmaiden shakes with fury. “Luna, you’ve been poisoned. And he wants to wait until tomorrow?” “Luna, let me send word to your father. Let Alpha Lord Vance handle this.” I look at Ronan one last time. “You’re really not going to punish her?” He flicks his wrist like he’s swatting a fly. “I already told you—it was a joke that went too far. She even offered to give you her pups. What more do you want?” “You’re making a scene over a cup of wine. If you don’t want to be my Luna, fine. Someone else will. Someone who isn’t so petty and selfish.” I smile. Slowly, I run my finger along the rim of the cup. Then I look him dead in the eye. “Petty? I did this for you, my Prince.” Word by word, I say: “That cup you just drank from? That was mine.” The room goes dead silent. Ronan’s face turns purple. “What… did you just say?” I point at the cup sitting in front of him. You can still see the powder clinging to the rim. “We exchanged cups,” I say calmly. “Remember? For good luck. You drank from my cup. I drank from yours.” “The one Seraphina poisoned?” I pause, letting it sink in. “You drank it.” Seraphina stares at me. Then at the cup. She snatches it off the table with trembling hands. She breathes. “You drank this?” Ronan can’t even form words. Seraphina screams—raw, ugly—and jabs a finger at me. “Bitch! You evil, scheming bitch! That poison was for her! She made you drink it—on purpose!”

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I drained my pure white wolf soul to build my Alpha’s empire, only for him to sever our mate bond, claim my best friend, and leave me to die on a muddy battlefield. But the Moon Goddess granted me a second chance. Reborn on my eighteenth birthday, the day of the Mate Selection Ceremony, I stand before the elite Alphas of North America. Lucius expects me to fall into his arms again so he can leech my power. Instead, I walk past the golden boy and point to the rusted iron cages on execution row. I claim Ryker, a poisoned, battle-scarred rogue chained in the shadows. Everyone thinks I have lost my mind. They assume my new mate is a dying stray who will drag me down to the dirt, leaving me vulnerable and weak. They couldn’t be more wrong. My feral rogue is hiding a world-shattering secret. He is the exiled Alpha King. …… Aurelia POV I drained my pure white wolf to build my Alpha mate’s empire. In return, he severed our bond, claimed my best friend, and left me to be torn apart by his warriors. But the Moon Goddess gave me a second chance. And this time, I am not choosing the golden Alpha. I am claiming the poisoned rogue in the iron cage. — Blood filled my lungs. I dragged my broken body across the soaked mud, reaching for the man I loved. My white wolf had completely vanished. I had drained every drop of my power into our Mate Bond, sacrificing my own life force to secure Lucius’s victory. “Lucius, we won,” I gasped, lifting my trembling, blood-stained hand toward him. Lucius calmly wiped his silver broadsword. He looked down at me, his eyes holding zero warmth. Then, he took a deliberate step back, intentionally avoiding my bloody fingers. He did not offer his hand. A pair of pristine white boots stopped beside him. Chloe. She was my best friend. “Ew, she’s a mess,” Chloe whined, scrunching her nose. She leaned her head against Lucius’s armored shoulder. Lucius wrapped a protective arm around her waist. He looked down at me. His eyes held zero warmth. “What are you doing?” I coughed, spitting a glob of black blood onto the mud. “Chloe? Help me up.” “Help you?” Chloe laughed, a high, grating sound. “Why would I help a dead weight? He doesn’t need you anymore.” “Thanks for the power, Aurelia,” Lucius sneered. He kicked dirt onto my face. “A supreme Alpha needs a real Luna. Not a dried-up husk. You have no wolf power left. You’re useless. Chloe is my true love. She will be my Luna! ” “What?” I widened my eyes and looked at my best friend. “Why? Chloe! We grew up together! You are my best friend!” My vision blurring. “I shared everything with you.” “I was your shadow!” Chloe spat, her face twisting into an ugly snarl. “The charity case Omega. ‘Look at Aurelia, so generous to the poor little Omega’. I hated every second of it!” “Your father even gave me a terrifying rogue captive as a mate. He expected me to share my power with a lowly prisoner! ” “But look at you now, Crystal Moon’s proud princess. You’re more pathetic than that dead rogue. ” I turned to Lucius. “Lucius, I choose you to be my mate! I shared my power with you! How could you betrayed me?” My lips trembled. Tears filled in my eyes. Everyone thought he was a prodigy. A once-in-a-generation talent. They didn’t know the truth. My Mate Bond possessed a rare genetic trait, Power Amplification and Sharing. I offered him the bond willingly. I let him siphon my strength, turning my pure wolf power into his destructive force. He built his entire reputation on my life force. But he was a parasite! Lucius smirked and spat out the cruel words. “I, Alpha Lucius Ramsey from Shadow Moon Pack, hereby, rejects you, Aurelia Delaney from Crystal Moon Pack, as my mate!” The golden thread of the Mate Bond in my chest snapped. A physical tear ripped through my heart. I screamed, arching my back. He severed our mate bond! Lucius turned to the five warriors of his pack behind him. They reeked of stale sweat, cheap liquor, and unwashed bodies. “Have fun with her, boys,” Lucius ordered, tossing them a pouch of gold coins. “She has no wolf left. She won’t last long.” Those warriors shifted into human forms. They grinned, revealing rotting teeth. They unbuckled their belts. “No,” I pleaded, trying to crawl away. My limbs felt like lead. “Lucius, don’t do this!” He walked away. He kissed Chloe passionately. They didn’t look back. Rough hands grabbed my hair. They tore my armor, ripping the leather from my skin. I fought. I bit a man’s wrist. I scratched another’s face. A heavy fist slammed into my jaw. The metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth. My vision swam. A rusted blade pierced my stomach. Pain eradicated all thought. The men laughed, pulling at my clothes. I stared at the red moon hanging above the slaughter. My blood soaked into the earth. I swear on the Moon Goddess, I vowed in my mind, my spirit fracturing. If I get another chance, I will tear their throats out. I will make Lucius beg for death. Darkness swallowed me. A sharp gasp tore from my throat. The scent of roasted pine and expensive floral perfume flooded my nose. My eyes snapped open. I stood upright. No mud. No blood. No freezing rain. I touched my stomach. Smooth silk. No stab wound. I ran my hands over my arms, feeling warm, unbroken skin. Crystal chandeliers blazed above me, casting golden light across a massive marble floor. A live string quartet played a cheerful waltz in the corner. Hundreds of wolves in tailored suits and designer gowns stared at me, waiting. The Crystal Moon Pack’s grand hall. My 18th birthday. The Mate Selection Ceremony. I closed my eyes, pressing a hand to my chest. The suffocating Mate Bond with Lucius did not exist. My pure white wolf soul roared inside me, full, powerful, and pristine. I was alive. I was eighteen again. Alpha Silas, my father, placed a heavy, warm hand on my shoulder. His voice boomed across the silent hall, vibrating with pride. “Aurelia, my sweetheart. Today you become a full member of our pack. Look at these Alphas. The strongest heirs in North America stand before you. Who do you choose for a mate?” I opened my eyes and scanned the crowd. Chloe was standing near the towering dessert table. She bit her lower lip, playing the innocent, supportive best friend. She wore the pale blue dress I bought her last week. Her eyes tracked Lucius with hungry desperation. I saw Lucius standing in the front row. He wore a custom-tailored black suit. His golden hair caught the chandelier light perfectly. He stood tall, projecting the aura of a genius Alpha. He looked confident, exactly like the man who left me to die in the mud. My inner wolf Snow bared her teeth. Kill him, she snarled in my mind, her claws scraping against my ribs. Not yet, I answered my wolf. Death is a mercy. Snow, I will strip them of everything they desire. Let’s watch them rot. I squared my shoulders. The naive, love-struck Aurelia died on that battlefield. The woman standing here was forged in betrayal. I lifted my chin, meeting the expectant gaze of the crowd. “It’s time to choose,” my father urged.

Aurelia POV My father’s question hung in the air. The grand hall buzzed with hushed whispers. Lucius stepped forward, his polished shoes clicking on the marble. His Shadow Moon pack members cheered from the sidelines, raising their glasses. He adjusted his silk tie and walked toward the dais with the swagger of a king claiming his throne. He extended his large hand to me, flashing that arrogant, practiced smile I once thought was charming. “Aurelia,” Lucius purred, his voice dripping with fake affection. “We both know there’s only one choice. Come to your Alpha. Let’s unite our packs and rule together.” The crowd murmured in agreement. It was the expected outcome. The perfect political match. The strongest Alpha and the only white wolf. I looked down at his outstretched hand. I remembered the blood on his armor. I remembered his cold eyes as the warriors tore my clothes. I felt a wave of nausea. I raised my hand and slapped his palm away with all my strength. The sharp smack echoed like a gunshot through the silent hall. Lucius’s smile vanished instantly. His hand dropped to his side. His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking near his ear. The cheering from his pack members died in their throats. “What are you doing, Aurelia?” Lucius hissed through his teeth, trying to maintain his composure. “You’re embarrassing yourself.” “Don’t touch me,” I ordered. My voice carried a freezing command that made several lower-ranking wolves in the front row flinch. “Are you joking?” Lucius leaned closer, his eyes flashing with suppressed anger. “Stop playing games. We grow up together! Take my hand. Everyone is watching.” “You flatter yourself, Lucius,” I mocked, scanning him from head to toe with utter disgust. “I would rather mate with a rotting corpse than tie my soul to yours.” Gasps erupted across the room. My father gripped the armrest of his chair. “Aurelia! What happened? He is the strongest Alpha here!” Chloe stepped out of the crowd, her face pale, playing the sweet peacemaker. “Aurelia, Lucius is the famous genius Alpha. He is rich and strong. He can protect you. Don’t be foolish and ruin your future.” “Keep your advice, Chloe,” I snapped, glaring at her fake innocent face. “If you want him so much, take him. You two deserve each other.” Chloe’s eyes widened in feigned shock, but I caught the greedy spark hidden in her pupils. She took a half-step closer to Lucius. Lucius looked at me, his pride visibly bruised. He sneered, “You’ll regret this. Aurelia. No other Alpha here will dare to accept you as the mate after you insulted me.” “I don’t need your protection, and I don’t want any Alpha,” I said. I turned away from the elite crowd. I walked down the marble steps, heading toward the far wall of the hall. The iron cages lined the shadows. The execution row. My father displayed captured rogues and criminals during major ceremonies to show his absolute power. Tomorrow at dawn, they would be beheaded. The crowd parted for me, whispering in confusion and horror as I approached the filthy cages. I stopped in front of the last one. Inside sat a rogue. Ryker. Thick silver links pierced his collarbones, pinning him to the iron bars. Dirt and dried black blood coated his heavily scarred, muscular torso. He sat in the shadows, radiating a lethal, wild heat that made the surrounding air feel heavy. As I stepped closer, he lifted his head. Matted, jet-black hair stuck to his forehead, framing a razor-sharp jawline and hollowed cheeks. Silver poison made his massive frame tremble. Yet, thick, lethal muscles coiled across his broad chest and abdomen with every heavy breath. Jagged knife wounds carved through the intricate, dark runic tattoos covering his torso. A low, guttural growl vibrated in his chest, rattling the iron bars. He looked like a cornered beast, ready to rip my throat out the second I got within striking distance. He was Chloe’s mate in my past life. Chloe called him a terrifying monster. I remembered he was died of wolfsbane in my past life. It must be Chloe poisoned him to escape a lowly bond. But now I looked at him, my pulse hammered against my ribs. I felt zero fear. The brutal scars and archaic ink wrapping his muscular body looked primal. Intoxicating. Dangerously sexy. The heavy scent of pine, and dark iron flooded my lungs, overriding the sickeningly sweet perfumes in the room. My inner wolf whined, pacing in my mind. Not in fear. She said. “He will be our mate!” “Aurelia, step away from that filth!” my father roared, abandoning his throne and rushing forward. “He’s a rabid rogue! He’ll kill you!” “No, Dad!” I reached through the rusty bars. I grabbed the silver chain binding Ryker’s wrists. His golden eyes snapped to mine. They burned with a feral, terrifying intensity. He yanked the chain, pulling me flush against the iron bars. The metal bit into my collarbone. His face was inches from mine. His breath, hot and smelling of copper, fanned my cheek. “Leave, little princess,” Ryker rasped, his voice rough like grinding stones. “Before I bite your pretty face off. My blood is poison. You come any closer, and I will tear you apart.” I tilted my chin up, refusing to break eye contact. I saw his rage. The silver poisoning burning his veins. “Do it,” I challenged, tracing a finger over his bruised, bloody knuckle. “Bite me.” Ryker’s pupils dilated until his eyes were almost entirely black. His massive chest heaved. He leaned in, his nose brushing my jawline. He inhaled my scent, a possessive rumble vibrating in his throat. He didn’t bite. He didn’t push me away. I turned my head, looking back at the stunned crowd. Lucius stood frozen, his face purple with humiliation and fury. Chloe stared with her mouth open, unable to comprehend my actions. My father looked ready to order his guards to shoot the rogue. I raised my voice, ensuring every single person in the hall heard my final decision. “My mate,” I announced, pointing at the bloodied rogue in the cage. “It’s him. Rogue Ryker!”

Aurelia POV “Have you lost your mind?” Alpha Silas slammed his fist against the marble pillar. A hairline crack spider-webbed across the white stone. “Rogues are trash!” Silas roared, pointing a trembling finger at the cage. “We hand them to Omegas as punishment. You are my heir, Aurelia. Step away from that filthy cage. Stop joking!” I kept my hands wrapped around Ryker’s rusted chains. The jagged metal cut into my palms. Warm blood trickled down my wrists. I felt no pain, zero hesitation, only the thrumming anticipation of my wolf. “I am not joking, Dad,” I said, my voice echoing off the high ceiling. “I possess the only white wolf. I carry Alpha-level strength in my blood. I refuse to let another Alpha control my life. I claim this rogue.” Lucius’s face turned a violent, mottled red. The elite crowd stared at him. Whispers erupted behind crystal champagne flutes. The golden boy of the werewolf elite stood rejected. He needed a lifeline for his shattered pride. He grabbed Chloe’s arm. He yanked her out of the crowd and pinned her against his chest. “Fine! You want to breed with garbage?” Lucius sneered, his lip curling in disgust. “Go ahead. I will take this Omega. Chloe knows how to respect a real Alpha.” Chloe let out a high-pitched gasp. She played the startled, innocent victim perfectly. Her hands slid up his chest, resting flat against his tailored lapels. They settled against each other with practiced ease. A breeze from the open balcony swept past them. Their scents hit my nose. Sour musk of wolves who shared a bed. My stomach churned. The puzzle pieces from my past life clicked together. They had been sleeping together for months right under my roof. They made a fool of me while planning to drain my wolf force. “Oh, Lucius,” Chloe murmured. She projected her voice to ensure the entire hall heard her. She cast a pitying glance my way. “I accept. I will honor our bond. I would never shame you like she did.” Lucius leaned down. He bit the crook of her neck. A faint, anemic silver thread materialized between them. It signified their weak bond. Chloe winced. A flash of pain crossed her features. Lucius was already draining a fraction of her energy to soothe his bruised ego. Let her enjoy her prize. She would learn the true cost soon enough. The iron cage rattled behind me. Ryker yanked his wrists apart. The heavy chains groaned under the pressure. Black veins pulsed along his scarred collarbones, tracing the toxic liquid silver in his bloodstream. His golden eyes burned into mine. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Back off, crazy girl,” Ryker rasped. His massive chest heaved against the rusty bars. “I am pumped full of liquid silver and wolfsbane. My blood is toxic waste. You link your wolf soul to mine, the poison will travel through the bond. It will rip your heart apart. You will die.” He bared his fangs. I read the tension in his rigid shoulders. He worried the mate bond would pass his agony to me. This terrifying captive, beaten and poisoned, possessed more honor and kindness than the polished Alpha standing in the center of the room. I stepped closer and grabbed his bare shoulders. His skin scorched my palms like an open furnace. I shoved my hands into his matted hair. I dragged his face forward until his forehead hit the iron bars. I crashed my lips against his. Coarse stubble scraped my chin. He tasted like copper, rain, and raw danger. He froze. A guttural groan vibrated up his throat, rumbling directly against my mouth. His massive hands shot through the bars. He gripped my waist. His thumbs dug into the silk of my dress, pressing into my hip bones. He branded my skin with his feverish heat and pulled me flush against the iron, eliminating every inch of space between us. A low growl vibrated in his chest, claiming the bond. I pulled back a fraction of an inch. Our lips still brushed. “I dare the poison to try,” I whispered. I tilted my head. I sank my fangs into the thick muscle of his neck. Ryker roared. A raw, earth-shattering sound tore from his chest. I tasted the bitter ash of the wolfsbane rushing through his veins. My white wolf surged forward to meet it. Pure, blinding light erupted from my core. Thick golden threads burst from my chest. They wrapped around Ryker’s massive torso. Our souls fused in a violent collision of magic. The golden light rushed into his bloodstream. It struck an invisible wall inside Ryker. A heavy seal locking away his true nature. My white wolf slammed into the barrier. The seal trembled under the impact. A single, jagged crack split the surface. Only a tiny fragment of the lock broke away. But a shockwave of suffocating pressure exploded from the cage. The rusted iron bars warped outward, groaning under the force. Marble tiles cracked and spider-webbed beneath my feet. The crystal chandeliers above us swayed, sending glass raining down onto the screaming crowd. The pressure hit the hall like a physical blow. Alphas dropped to their knees. They clutched their chests, fighting to breathe. Betas collapsed onto their stomachs, gasping for air against the floorboards. Gammas and omegas whimpered, covering their ears and curling into balls. The terrifying aura crushed the room. It forced every single head to bow. I stood inside the center of the storm, remained perfectly safe, anchored to Ryker’s chest. The air around us hummed with lethal electricity. Ryker’s golden eyes glowed. The black veins on his neck vanished, replaced by the gold of our unbroken bond. Lucius fell to one knee. He grabbed his throat, struggling to pull oxygen into his lungs. His golden aura flickered under the rogue’s power. His face turned an ashen gray. He stared at the chained man in the cage. “That pressure…” Lucius choked out, his whole body trembling. Blood dripped from his nose, spotting the pristine marble floor. “That is no rogue… What the hell is he?”

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Mom called me a evil kid for the breaking, the shaking, the screaming. She cursed me, beat me, she wished she’d never had me. And then I really died. Mom says I’ve always been a troublemaker. But I’m not. I swear I’m not. It’s just—my body won’t listen to me? The very first time Mom tried to nurse me, I nearly bit her nipple off. She screamed. Dropped me right on the bed. She still brings it up. Like it’s evidence. Like it proves I came out wrong. “Ava.” Smack. The wooden spoon cracks against my palm.”If you were half as easy as your sister—half, Ava—I swear I’d actually have a minute of peace in my life.” She’s not even raising her voice. Somehow that’s worse. She’s just… done with me. Completely over it. I dropped my soup again. My hand just—opened. Like it forgot how to hold things. I didn’t mean to. This is my thing. My stupid, broken, unfixable thing. At three, I couldn’t grip a crayon without launching it across the room. At eight, my pen would shoot off the page mid-word, like my fingers had a mind of their own. Now I’m ten. And it’s getting worse. Way worse. She dragged me to to her hospital. They stuck me with needles. Taped electrodes to my head. Ran every test you can think of. Everything came back clean. So that was that. She made up her mind: I was faking. A liar. A needy little brat begging for attention. And after that? Every time my body did the thing—the spasm, the jerk, whatever it was—she’d hit me, until my arms go numb. Until I stop crying. Because crying just makes her hit harder. I’ve stopped counting how many times. I hurt all the time now. Every breath, every move. But Mom’s a doctor. And doctors don’t lie. So if she says I’m faking… then I must be faking, right? It has to be my fault. So maybe she’s right. Maybe I really am just a bad seed. Then Mia had her asthma attack. Mom was screaming. “Ava! The inhaler! Now!” I ran. God, I ran so fast. And then, my hand jerked. The inhaler shot out of my fingers, sailed through the open window. Gone. Mom’s whole face went scarlet. She backhanded me so hard my ears rang and my cheek bounced off the wall. “Are you out of your mind?! If your sister dies because of you, Ava—I swear, I will never forgive you. Never.” She scooped up Mia. Slammed the door behind her. I heard the deadbolt slide. I crumpled to the floor. The sobs just ripped out of me. “Mommy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please. I’m sorry…” I can’t breathe now. Not like panic. Something else. It’s like the air itself is draining out of the room. Like someone pulled a plug somewhere and all the oxygen is leaking away. I try to stand. My legs are rubber. They buckle under me. My hands. My arms. The spots that always throb during an episode don’t even hurt anymore. They’re just gone. Numb. Dead weight. I squeeze my eyes shut. I wait. This always passes. Few minutes. Ten. Fifteen, tops. My stupid, broken body always settles down eventually. Hands me back the wheel. But this time something’s different. My head. Oh God, my head. It’s splitting open. I’m gonna be sick. No. No, no, no. I need to call her. I need to tell Mom something’s really wrong this time. I drag myself to the coffee table. My phone’s right there. I grab it. Hit her number. She picks up already irritated. “What now, Ava? Mia’s still on the nebulizer. Can you please—for once in your life—just leave me alone?” I fight to push the words out. “Mommy… I don’t… something’s wrong…” She scoffs. This awful, hollow little laugh. “Oh, here we go. Faking sick again? Trying to one-up your sister? You’ve pulled this a hundred times, Ava. A hundred. Every single test came back normal. So you tell me—why the hell should I believe you?” Mia’s voice drifts through in the background. “Mommy, I’m thirsty.” And just like that, Mom’s whole tone shifts. Warm. Gentle. “Hang on, baby girl. Mommy’s getting you water right now.” Then she’s back on me. Cold again. “I’m done, Ava. I already shortchange Mia because of you. I see fifteen patients a day. I come home dead on my feet. And you still won’t cut me a break. Every single time you pull something, I have to drop everything and deal with you. And Mia gets nothing. She’s actually sick right now, Ava. So what do you want from me? Huh? What more could you possibly want?” She hangs up. All I want is for her to believe me. Just once. I have never been lying.When my stomach hurt so bad I was rolling on the floor all night, crying into the carpet? She said I was dodging a math test. When I spiked a hundred-and-three fever? She said I’d pressed a heating pad to my forehead to trick the thermometer. Even the breathing thing—she says I’m just copying Mia.Putting on a show. But Mia wasn’t even having a real attack today. She was messing around with slime, accidentally inhaled some powder. That’s literally it. Mom said she’ll be home tonight. She promised she’d come back. I just have to hang on till then. She’ll see me. She’ll know. She’ll fix it. She has to. My eyes drift to the wall across from me. Mia’s wall. Plastered with her ribbons and trophies and photos. First place, piano. First place, spelling bee. Lead dancer in the spring recital. There she is in that picture. White tutu. Hair swept into a perfect bun. Beaming like the whole world belongs to her. My throat closes up. There’s a family photo tucked in the corner. The four of us—Mom, Dad, Mia, me. Except I look like I wandered in from a different family. I’m drowning in some cousin’s hand-me-downs. My hair’s a wreck. I’m smiling, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. Anyone can tell. Everybody loves Mia more. And honestly? I get it. If I had to choose between a kid like me and a kid like her—I’d choose her too. That white dress she’s wearing in the photo. God, it’s beautiful. If I could dance like that. If I could wear something that pretty. If I could stand on a stage and not have my body betray me in front of everyone. Would Mom love me then? The thought hits me somewhere deep, this raw, hollow ache that I don’t have words for. And then, out of nowhere, something sparks inside me. This tiny, desperate flame. I want to wear that dress. Just once. Just to know what it feels like. I start crawling. I pull myself across the floor. My fingernails catch on the wood. Everything hurts. But I think about that dress. How pretty it is. How it smells like Mom’s hugs. Mia’s room. The closet. The tutu. I’m almost there. Inch by inch. Dragging myself forward. My arms are trembling. My skull is throbbing so hard my vision blurs. But I keep going. My fingers find the tutu. I rip it from the hanger and wrap my whole body around it. I press it against my face and breathe. It smells like Mom. Her perfume. Like the hug I’ve been dreaming about for years—the one she used to give me. The one she stopped giving me so long ago I can barely remember what it felt like. I close my eyes. Breathe it in. Let it fill me up. And then I exhale. Long and slow. Like something inside me is finally, finally letting go. The pain drains away. Everything fades to black. I open my eyes—no. Wait. That’s not right. I’m not opening anything. I’m above. I’m curled up on the floor next to Mia’s bed. The white dress is bundled in my arms. My lips are parted. My eyes are half-shut. I look… peaceful. Like I’m sleeping. But I’m not sleeping. I’m floating. Right here. Right above my own body. I reach down and try to touch my face. My hand passes straight through. No. Mom is going to walk in and find me like this. Clutching Mia’s dress. She’s going to think I was going through Mia’s things again. Causing trouble. Being the problem child. She’s going to be so angry. I try to move. Try to shove myself back inside my body, back into my skin. I can’t feel anything. I can’t reach anything.

Mom doesn’t come home that night. Mia finishes her breathing treatment at the hospital. Then she spots some girl from her class in the waiting room. She latches onto Mom’s sleeve, bouncing. “Can I go to her house? Please? Pleeeease?” The girl’s mom is standing right there, all friendly. “She’s welcome to sleep over. Just one night. No big deal.” Mom says yes without blinking. Doesn’t even pause. The other mom tilts her head. “Don’t you have another daughter? She should come too.” Mom flicks her wrist. “Nah, that one’s tough. She can fend for herself.” Tough. That’s the word Mom gave me after every test came back clean. Like a label she slapped on and never peeled off. Like she resents herself for ever losing sleep over me—so now she overcorrects. Hard. I’m not sick. I’m not fragile. I’m not worth worrying about. I’m just tough. Mia’s the delicate one. Mia’s the one who matters. Mia stubs her toe and sobs for an hour straight. Mom scoops her up. Kisses her forehead. Holds her like she might shatter. I quit waiting for that a long time ago. I got used to it. The broken promises. The way she picks Mia over me, every single time, without flinching. Mia needs her. Work needs her. There’s always something bigger. Something better. Always a reason that isn’t me. Mom and Mia roll in the next afternoon. I drift toward the door before I even realize I’m doing it. My arms reach out—force of habit—ready to pull her shoes off the way I always did. It was never about love. It was survival. The thing I trained myself to do so she wouldn’t start yelling. My hands pass straight through her. Mom squints around the living room. “Ava? You still in bed? Get out here. Now.” She toes off her shoes. Wanders into the kitchen for water. The kettle is bone dry. Her whole face hardens. “Ava! Seriously? You do nothing. Absolutely nothing. You can’t even boil water? What the hell is wrong with you?” I hover behind her. Watching the rigid set of her shoulders. “Mom,” I whisper. “I can’t boil water anymore. I can’t do anything. I can’t move.” She doesn’t hear me. She never hears me. Then Mia starts screaming from the bedroom. “Mom! MOM! Get in here! Ava took my dress! My white tutu! I told her nobody’s allowed to touch it!” Mom bolts down the hall. And then she sees me. My body. Her eyes zero in on the white dress crumpled against my chest. Her face goes crimson. She wrenches the tutu out of my arms. Without it, my body just—collapses. Tips sideways like a sack of trash someone forgot to take out. Mom doesn’t even glance down at me. She’s too busy turning the dress over in her hands, hunting for damage. When she spots the creases where my fingers had been clutching the fabric, something in her snaps. She snatches a hardcover textbook off Mia’s desk and cracks it against my skull. “Don’t you EVER touch your sister’s things!” My body rocks to the side. Settles back. “How many goddamn times do I have to say it? Are your ears just decoration?” “Oh, you wanna play dead? Fine. I’ll give you a reason to be dead.” She grabs a wire hanger off the floor and starts swinging. Again. And again. And again. I don’t move. I just float there and watch. Watch the hanger come down. Watch my body absorb every blow. No twitch. No whimper. Nothing. I can’t feel any of it. So this is what dead feels like. No pain. No fear. No nothing. Mom finally burns herself out. She’s doubled over, chest heaving. She delivers one last kick to my shin. “Get up. Take that dress to the dry cleaner. Then sit your ass down and write me five pages on why you’re grounded. You don’t eat till it’s done.” I don’t move. She stands over me. Waiting. Her jaw clenches. I can see her gearing up for round two— Her phone goes off. The hospital. “Dr. Taylor? The little girl in bed seven is asking for you again. She’s saying you’re the only one she’ll let hold her during her shot. Any way you can swing by?” And just like that, Mom’s voice transforms. Honey-warm. Gentle. “Of course, sweetheart. Tell her I’m on my way.” She reaches for Mia’s hand. “C’mon, baby. You’re coming to the hospital with Mommy. We’ll grab pizza from the cafeteria tonight—whatever toppings you want, okay?” Mia hesitates. Looks back at me on the floor. Blinks. “But… what about Ava?” Mom rolls her eyes so hard her whole head moves. “Leave her. She wants to play dead? Let her play dead. She’ll come crawling out the second she’s hungry enough. Trust me.” Mia shrugs, lets out a little cheer, and skips out the door. It slams shut. The apartment goes still. I sink down beside my own body. The textbook cracked my head open. But there’s nothing leaking out anymore. Not a drop. Mom, I won’t stain the carpet this time. I won’t cry for food. I won’t be a troublemaker anymore.

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