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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I was the only princess of Royal St. Ashford Academy — the girl with four fathers. After my mother died, her four childhood sweethearts found me still alive inside her belly. And so I ended up with four fathers. My first father, Ethan Sterling, was the head of a hundred-billion-dollar dynasty. He was also the sole trustee of Royal St. Ashford Academy, holding absolute authority over the institution. My second father, Marcus Sterling, was the commander of the world’s largest private military corporation — his army could annihilate a small country with ease. My third father, Julian Sterling, was a universally recognized medical genius — the next Nobel Prize candidate. My fourth father, Liam Sterling, was the most feared legend in the underground fighting circuit — before he even turned seventeen, he had defeated thirty-three elite enforcers from criminal syndicates around the globe. I grew up drowning in the love of four fathers. No matter where I went, I was the center of everyone’s envy. Until the year I turned eighteen, when the four fathers’ shared daughter, Bianca White, was found and brought back. From that day on, these four men became entirely different people. Bianca said I’d verbally abused her. My second father injected me with a hallucinogenic drug — I stripped naked on the school rooftop like a lunatic and danced, then fell and shattered both my legs, missing prom entirely. A video of my naked dance spread across the school’s network in minutes. When my first father saw it, he locked me — a girl with severe claustrophobia — in a pitch-black closet for three days and three nights. When I came out, I discovered that every honor I’d ever earned at school had been transferred to Bianca. She said I’d poisoned her. My third father, Julian, locked me inside his deadly fungal cultivation chamber. I became the perfect host for every pathogen inside — fungal hyphae burrowed through my pores and into my organs. Only when I was on the verge of death did they pull me out and blast me under cold water for an entire night, barely saving my life. But my right eye lost all its vision permanently. After Bianca cried yet again, claiming I’d tricked her into going to a bar where she was nearly attacked by dangerous men, my first father flew into a rage and threw me into an underground bar — where I became the lowest of the low: a stripper. For three years, I went from defiance to submission — because on my eighteenth birthday, my virginity was stolen by eighteen filthy strangers. From that day on, I was reduced to nothing more than the cheapest whore. Whenever my door opened, I instinctively spread my legs and lay back on the couch. That’s when I heard a voice say: “Iris, would you like to come back to your mother?” …… I jerked my head up. There was no one in the room. But the voice came again — I spotted a glowing screen on the floor. An unfamiliar yet somehow warm face appeared on the small display. She said her name was Helen, my mother’s closest friend. She said my mother, Lillian, hadn’t actually died that day. She’d been poisoned — a rare toxin that induced a death-like state — and then smuggled away by people who owed her their lives. And now she knew I was alive. She wanted to bring me home. The grief and pain I’d been suppressing broke free — I sobbed, crying out that I wanted to find my mother. But Helen’s tone was tense. She said the Sterling family’s reach was too vast. If they discovered Mother was still alive, they would track her down. The only safe way was to make everyone believe I was dead. “Only when you ‘die’ will they stop looking for you. Our people will extract you after your ‘death.’ Your mother is waiting on the other side.” “Iris, even a faked death will be extremely painful — are you willing to —” Helen hadn’t even finished her sentence before I was on my feet, grabbing a shard of glass from the broken mirror and pressing it to my throat without a moment’s hesitation. *Yes!* Mother was alive! All I had to do was “die,” and I could see her. Overwhelming joy drowned out every fear of death — this body had already endured too much. If “death” was the only way to reach Mother, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second. But just as I was about to drag the glass across my skin, a massive force knocked it from my hand. The pain made me let go. The shard fell to the floor, and a foot stepped on it. “Iris, trying to kill yourself?” That familiar voice made me look up. When I saw who it was, I called out instinctively. “Fourth Father.” The moment the word left my mouth, I regretted it. Sure enough, the man’s brow furrowed at the title. “Don’t call me that. I cut ties with you a long time ago.” The person standing before me was Liam Sterling. When I was little, I’d been kidnapped by a rival family. He alone stormed into their compound, took three knife wounds without flinching, and carried me out without a scratch on me. After he rescued me, I cried so hard looking at his wounds that I couldn’t breathe. But he just ruffled my hair and said those cuts didn’t hurt at all. What hurt, he said, was watching me cry. Of the four fathers, the fourth was the one who loved me most. But that love vanished four years ago, when my second father Marcus brought an injured Bianca back from a school field trip. I’d always known my four fathers shared a single obsession — a woman they all loved. I just didn’t know that woman wasn’t my mother. It was Bianca’s mother, Celine White. The truth was something I’d pieced together fragment by fragment: my mother, Lillian, grew up alongside the four Sterling brothers. Their father had been destroyed by a corporate conspiracy — framed, bankrupted, driven to an early grave. It was young Lillian who hid the four boys, placing each with a different guardian, a different mentor. They grew into their own. With Mother Lillian’s help, they completed their revenge — Ethan reclaimed the family empire and cleared the Sterling name. Lillian and Ethan were supposed to be together. Childhood sweethearts — two hearts long promised to each other. But on the eve of the wedding, Celine White appeared. The moment she walked in, all four fathers’ eyes shifted. After that, they called Lillian “jealous” and “unstable.” They said she kept trying to hurt Celine. They said she eventually killed herself out of spite. After Mother’s death, Celine disappeared too. It wasn’t until Bianca appeared that the fathers learned — or thought they learned — the truth: Celine had left because she felt guilty about Lillian’s death. Honestly? I never believed any of it. My gut told me Mother wasn’t the villain. Celine was. But the fathers didn’t trust my instincts. The brothers didn’t either. They even thought I was just like my mother — petty, jealous, always competing for attention. So every time Bianca and I clashed, all eight of them stood on her side. Before long, I went from the most pampered princess of Ashford Prep to the lowest creature in an underground bar. My fourth father picked up the glass shard from the floor, glanced at the cut on my neck. Then his hand flicked, and the shard flew straight at me. I stumbled back two steps on instinct. The glass grazed my throat, leaving another thin red line. My fourth father let out a cold laugh: “If you really want to die, why’d you dodge?” “Iris, you’re just like your mother — always hurting yourself to get attention.” “At least she was smarter about it. She always performed in front of us. You picked this dump. Pathetic.”

I was about to explain that I wasn’t acting. But then I remembered — every explanation I’d ever given, they had never once listened. So I lowered my head. “You’re absolutely right, Mr. Sterling. So what brings you all the way to a place like this — here just to watch my performance?” My fourth father paused. “Don’t flatter yourself. Today is Bianca’s birthday, and her heir designation ceremony. She recently said she’s willing to forgive you and start fresh. I’m here to bring you.” He added after a beat, “Ethan wants to see you too.” I’d heard three days ago that my first father, Ethan, was going to formally designate Bianca as the Sterling family heir — the ceremony timed to her birthday, complete with a grand gala. I was a year older than her. *Sterling heir* — that was a title my first father had promised me when I was ten. If this had been the old me, I would have torn the whole thing down before letting anyone take what was mine. But now I just looked at my fourth father, expressionless. “I don’t want to go.” My fourth father stared for a moment, then said: “This isn’t up to you.” He grabbed my arm and dragged me out the door, shoved me into his car. He drove me to his place first — made me shower, changed my clothes — then headed for the Sterling estate. In the car, my fourth father wouldn’t stop talking in my ear — telling me to be kind to Bianca, not to provoke her, not to think about bullying her. My heart ached with a dull, familiar pain. I watched the highway blur past outside the windows, faster and faster, and the desire to see Mother grew louder and louder in my head. Then I sat up, unbuckled my seatbelt, and at a hundred and forty kilometers per hour, I opened the car door. Before my feet left the car, I heard his scream. *At this speed,* I thought, *I’ll definitely die.* But the expected pain never came. Instead, I landed in a warm embrace. My fourth father had caught me. We tumbled across the gravel shoulder, rolling twice before stopping. His furious voice exploded above my head. “Iris, have you lost your mind?!” I looked at him. Blood from a gash on his forehead was streaming down his face. I instinctively reached out to wipe it away. But my fourth father recoiled in disgust, his expression turning vicious: “Can you stop playing these games? You just want to see if I still care, don’t you? Let me tell you — saving you means nothing. I’d save a stranger too. If I’d known this was your angle, I never would have jumped.” “Next time you want to die, go ahead. I won’t stop you.” My hand froze in midair. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the river beyond the highway guardrail. I let out a bitter laugh. “Fine, Mr. Sterling. Remember what you just said.” Before he could react, I was on my feet in an instant. Without looking back, I vaulted over the guardrail and threw myself into the water. My fourth father had nearly drowned in a swimming pool as a child. He was terrified of water. And after saying something that cruel, he definitely wouldn’t come after me. So when the freezing river water rushed into my nose, I felt happy. *Finally — once they think I’m dead, I’ll be free. I’ll get to see Mother!*

I don’t know how much time passed before the darkness lifted. Just as I was excitedly sitting up, thinking I’d find Mother, someone slapped me so hard I hit the floor. “You bitch! All we did was have you wash glasses and carry plates at the bar, and the second you see Liam, you pull this stunt! Do you know he almost drowned trying to save you?!” My third father Julian’s voice came from above me. His face was ashen. Behind him stood Julian, hands in his pockets, watching me like I was some incomprehensible stranger. Of the four fathers, I’d been closest with my third father. The others were always busy, so the daily task of raising and educating me had fallen to him. He taught me to read and write. Taught me chemistry. Taught me to identify plants and compounds. He was the gentlest of them all. No matter how badly I messed up, he was patient. Never once punished me. But my third father — who never even raised his voice around me — hit me the very first day Bianca arrived. That day, Bianca had touched Julian’s lab chemicals on her own. She insisted I’d put them on her. My third father took a belt and whipped me with it. “Iris, I failed you as a teacher. That’s why you turned out this reckless — toying with people’s lives.” Later, when Bianca was poisoned again, my third father force-fed me an allergenic compound, then threw me into his university lab’s hazardous materials room. Countless particles detonated inside my body. Even though Julian treated me afterward, I still lost all sensation in one leg. Seeing that I wasn’t speaking, my third father assumed I was conceding guilt. His anger deepened. He raised his hand to hit me again. But my fourth father caught his wrist just in time. “Julian, calm down. Today Bianca is being formally designated as Sterling heir — of course she can’t handle it. She’s already tried to kill herself three times in front of me.” *Tried to kill herself.* They thought I was suicidal. What they didn’t know was that every time they “saved” me, they were trapping me deeper. I glanced at my fourth father. He’d changed clothes. His wounds were bandaged. But his face was paper-white. I remembered what my third father had just said. So it really was him who’d saved me. But my fourth father couldn’t swim. I couldn’t imagine how much it had cost him to pull me out of that water. My third father scoffed. “Liam, she played you. You’ve been away the past four years — she’s pulled this act on us more times than I can count. It’s just to get attention.” My fourth father blinked, then exhaled a few seconds later as if relieved. “So that’s all it is.” Nolan pushed his glasses up and chimed in: “She’s always been like this. Last time she stood at the edge of the rooftop in the school’s main plaza, she had everyone fooled — students even filmed it and it went viral. Next day she was perfectly fine.” His tone was flat. As if he were describing the weather. My third father turned back to me. “Iris, today is Bianca’s birthday. You can throw your tantrum in front of the two of us, but don’t you dare make a scene in front of Ethan and Marcus. You know how those two are—” Before he could finish, I was already lunging for the medicine cabinet behind him. I’d lived at my third father’s place long enough to know exactly where he kept the dangerous drugs. I opened the cabinet, found the most toxic bottle inside. Took out the most lethal pill. Swallowed it without hesitation. My third father’s face went white.

The pill was bitter. But I was happy. My third father had once told me this compound had no antidote. Once I swallowed it, they would surely believe I was dead. And Helen’s people would come for me afterward. My third father froze for only a few seconds before rushing forward and shoving his fingers into my mouth. “Are you insane?! Do you even know what that was?!” He pried my jaw open, his fingers clawing at my throat. After I vomited it up, he immediately bound my wrists, pierced my artery, and let the black blood drain out. Only when the blood flowing from my body turned bright red did my third father finally breathe. “Iris, it’s just an heir title. Is it really worth dying over?” My fourth father looked even more shaken. He now truly believed I wanted to die — his voice was trembling. “Iris, stop doing this. Listen — yesterday the four of us talked to Bianca. She’s willing to forgive you. After today, you can come home. Ethan will make you co-heir. We’ll treat you like we used to, okay? Please stop trying to end it.” Hearing this, tears fell from my eyes. Both fathers thought I was moved. But the next second, I dropped to my knees before them. “Third Father, Fourth Father — I’m begging you. Stop interfering. Just let me go.” My third father exploded. “Iris, you don’t understand what we’re—” “I understand.” There was no point in hiding it anymore. “But I don’t want to go home. I want to find my mother.” I poured out everything — Helen’s call, the news that Mother was alive — all of it. Their expressions grew more complicated with every word. Finally, my third father helped me to my feet. “Iris, listen to me. Your mother is truly dead.” When Mother died, it was my first father who found her body by the lake. My third father used every ounce of his medical knowledge trying to save her. He failed. After the four of them delivered me from her body, they sat vigil over her for seven days and seven nights. They watched her body grow cold, stiff, and decompose with their own eyes. They watched her vanish from this world. My third father told me that phone call was most likely a scam, or a delusion born from trauma. It wasn’t. I was certain. It was real. But no matter what I said, they wouldn’t believe me. My third father sighed. “If you really don’t want to go home, then stay here with me. As long as you behave, I won’t let anyone hurt you again.” I was about to shake my head. Then urgent footsteps sounded outside the door. A moment later, my first and second fathers burst in, panic written across their faces. “Julian, Liam — have you seen Bianca? She’s missing!” Both fathers in the room went pale. “She was supposed to be at the estate preparing for the gala. What do you mean, missing?” My second father Marcus’s voice was strained. “It’s my fault. This morning she said she wanted to personally go to the bar to bring Iris back. She asked me for the bar’s address. I was busy with training, didn’t take her — she went on her own. It’s been two hours and she still hasn’t—” He stopped mid-sentence. All four of them seemed to remember something at once, and their eyes locked onto me in unison. Facing those familiar accusatory stares — the four fathers’ righteous certainty, the four brothers’ silent complicity — my heart sank. Before they could even voice their suspicion, I was already shaking my head. “No! It wasn’t me!” “How wasn’t it you?” My fourth father stepped forward and grabbed my throat. “No wonder you’ve been trying to die all morning — it was to cover your tracks. Where did you hide Bianca?” His grip was crushing. Between that and the cuts already on my neck, tears came almost instantly. But I kept shaking my head. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen Bianca.” When I wouldn’t confess, my fourth father’s fury surged again. “Still lying? Guess I’ll have to teach you a lesson before you’ll talk.” He grabbed my throat and dragged me into the bathroom. Shoved my head into the full bathtub. Up and down. Over and over. Water flooded my nose, choking out every breath. Just when I thought I’d drown, my fourth father stopped. He slammed me onto the tile floor and tilted my chin up with the tip of his shoe. “I’ll ask you one last time. Where is Bianca?” The truth was on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it. *Iris, when will you learn?* *They’ll never believe you.* *Since they’ll never believe you, you might as well push them over the edge.* *Make them kill you.* With that thought, a smile spread across my face. Casually, I said: “Bianca? Oh — I already killed her.” Sure enough, the moment those words left my mouth, all eight faces went white. The most unhinged was my first father, Ethan. His eyes turned red. “What did you just say? Iris, how could you—” “How couldn’t I?” I threw my head back and laughed. “Her mother killed my mother. She stole my place as heir. All my honors at school became hers. She became the campus Queen. Isn’t that enough reason to kill her? And I didn’t just kill her — I dumped her in the slums and let the dirtiest, most disgusting men have their way with her. You always thought she was so pure, so pristine? She’s dirtier than I ever was now!” “Are you angry? Then kill me!” My words pushed all eight of them past the breaking point. The fathers’ eyes blazed red. My first father called for restraints. My second father brought in his former black-market boxing sparring partner — a man who knew exactly where to hit for maximum pain with minimum lethality. My third father injected me with a drug to keep me conscious at all times, ensuring I’d feel everything, unable to pass out no matter how excruciating it became. They made sure I couldn’t escape into unconsciousness. With that done, my fourth father gave the signal. The pain began. I held on at first, but as the blows intensified, I couldn’t even scream anymore. The worse it hurt, the happier I felt. *Soon — if they just don’t save me this time, Helen’s people will come for me. I’ll get to see Mother.* The four fathers, desperate to find Bianca, ordered the men not to hold back. The four brothers followed them out — Cade was the last to leave, turning back once at the doorway, but he still left. They’d barely stepped outside when a housekeeper came running. “Mr. Sterling — Miss Bianca — she’s been found!” My first father tensed instantly. “Where?” “Alive.” The housekeeper caught her breath. “Miss Bianca got lost on the way to the bar, then stopped at a mall for a while. That’s why she never came back. She’s heading this way now.” My second father blurted: “She’s alive?” The housekeeper looked confused but nodded. “Yes, sir. Alive.” All four faces went white at the same time. They exchanged glances, about to speak. Then my agonized scream — raw and violent — tore through the door behind them. Everyone spun around and threw the door open. My scalding blood splattered across their faces. One of the men was holding a blade — buried squarely in my chest, right where my heart was. **[PAYWALL]**

The blade entering my chest hurt more than anything. I almost couldn’t stop the tears. But this way, they would surely think I was dead. Helen’s people would come for me. Through the haze, I watched everyone rushing toward me. My first father ripped off his jacket and pressed it to my chest to stop the bleeding. My second father kicked the man holding the knife clear across the room. My third father pulled emergency medication from his bag and forced it into my mouth. My fourth father just kept calling my name, over and over. “Iris — don’t close your eyes!” “Iris — Iris, look at me —” The desperate way they crowded around me reminded me of that time I’d had a fever as a child. It was Christmas. All four fathers had cleared their schedules to spend the holiday with me. I’d played in the snow too long and developed a raging fever. I refused to take medicine. The fathers sat around my bed for hours, coaxing me with every sweet word they had. Back then, they really were good to me. The best people in my world. Even after everything they’d done to me because of Bianca, I still remembered those days. I looked at each of their faces one more time — four faces, memorized one by one. Then I closed my eyes. A moment later, the pain dissolved. When I woke, I found myself back in my third father’s guest bed. My wounds were bandaged. All four fathers sat nearby, haggard, looking like they hadn’t slept in days. Bianca was perched at my bedside. When she saw my eyes open, she squealed, “She’s finally awake!” My third father came over to check my pulse. Once he confirmed it was stable, he told me flatly: “The blade didn’t actually reach your heart. It wasn’t as deep as it looked. Combined with the emergency medication keeping you alive, you were only unconscious for five days.” Five days. My third father had driven through the night to his mentor’s private clinic — and used the world’s only state-of-the-art nano-rescue system. All to save me. I laughed bitterly at the news. Such a priceless thing, wasted on me. After all, I was still planning to leave. The moment I got the chance, I would “die” for them again. My second father leaned in. “Iris, if you didn’t hurt Bianca, why didn’t you just tell us? Why go to such extremes and make everyone worry?” This triggered a chorus of agreement from the fathers. They took turns scolding me for being reckless. The only one who spoke up for me was Bianca. “Stop blaming her! It’s all my fault — I wanted to stop at the mall to buy her a gift and then got lost. If I’d gotten to her sooner, none of this would have happened.” Her eyes reddened as she spoke. My first father glared at me. “Iris, Bianca didn’t even celebrate her own birthday because she was worried about you, and this is how you repay her? Apologize. Now.” I almost laughed. “Apologize for what, exactly? What did I do to her? She got herself lost because she’s an idiot. She chose to skip her own party. How is any of that my problem?” The moment I finished speaking. My third father’s brow furrowed: “You’re still this stubborn? Forget the past few days — what about everything you’ve done to her over the years? Don’t you owe Bianca an apology for that?” The mention of “over the years” broke something in me. “No! I’ll say it one more time — I never hit her, never cursed her, never poisoned her, never sent anyone after her. She staged every single incident! She framed me! Why do you always believe her and let her take everything from me?!”

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I was back to the day I chose my son. This time, I walked past my own flesh and blood and picked the runt no one wanted. Everyone said I was the most pathetic omega in the pack. The day I gave birth, the Luna took my son and never gave him back. But I told myself it was fine. Catherine was the Luna, my boy would have a better life with her than he ever would with me. Then I took a blade for the Luna during a rogue attack. The Alpha said I’d earned a reward and let me choose one of the pups in the pack house to raise as my own. So I asked for my son back. I asked for Julian, and Catherine had to hand him over. I raised him until he was twenty, and that year the Alpha named him heir. That same night, Julian forced a cup of wolfsbane tea down my throat. He looked at me like I was filth. “If you hadn’t dragged me away from the Luna, I would’ve been named heir years ago. All you ever did was hold me back.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day I’d chosen him. Alpha Alaric sat at the head of the hall. “Evelyn has shown her loyalty to this pack. She may choose one pup to take into her care.” I followed his gaze. Five boys stood in a line. Julian was at the front, dressed sharp, the Luna’s golden child. He looked at me with something close to disgust. Last time around, I’d been so blinded by the joy of getting him back that I missed the contempt in those eyes. I closed mine and swallowed the nausea rising in my throat, then looked past him to the others. At the very back, below the dais, a scrawny kid stood with his head down. That was Silas. His mother Lillian had tried to seduce the Alpha and been executed as a traitor, and after that he became the runt nobody wanted. The other wolves said he was sullen and strange, that he lived worse than the omegas in the pack house. I looked at that boy standing there all alone and something in me just broke. I knew what it felt like to be thrown away. I took a deep breath and raised my hand, pointing at Silas. “Alpha, I want him.”

The room went quiet. Silas looked at me, his eyes blank with confusion and something like disbelief. He was thin, almost frail, but his back was perfectly straight. I met his gaze and didn’t know what to feel. I’d never been the type to fight for anything. Alaric and I had a thing back in school, but he found his Luna and moved on. Catherine never let me forget it. Five or six years in this pack and I was basically invisible. Last time around, I’d insisted on getting my real son back, and he’d poisoned me for it. This time, I wasn’t hoping for anything. I just wanted a kid nobody else wanted either, so the two of us could keep each other company and get through the days. Alaric paused for a moment, then gave a faint smile. “Alright.” He said, “Silas is a quiet one and you’re steady. Good match. Take care of him.” I could tell he didn’t think much of it. He just figured I’d picked the easiest option and that was that. I thanked him and walked over to Silas, reaching for his hand. When my fingers touched his, he flinched but didn’t pull away. And just like that, Silas became my son and came home with me. That night, I ran a warm bath for Silas. When his clothes came off and I saw his back, my hands went still and I couldn’t move. It was covered in wounds. Whip marks layered over each other, huge patches of bruising and burn scars where the skin had puckered and fused together. My voice shook when I asked, “Who did this to you?” Silas was quiet for a long time before he said, “I fell.” I bit my lip and didn’t push. I wrung out the cloth again and wiped his back as gently as I could, working around every wound. When I was done, I got him clean clothes and helped him into them. Then I put my hand on his head. “Silas, this is your home now, and I’m your mom.”

Silas wasn’t the sullen, difficult kid the rumors made him out to be. He was obedient, just quiet. So quiet that sometimes I forgot he was even there. But that was enough. I’d gotten a second life and I wasn’t going to waste it getting caught up in pack politics or trying to climb any ladders. I just wanted to lay low, raise Silas in peace, and keep my head down. Maybe when I was old, he’d come visit once in a while. That alone would make this life worth living. Silas went to school every day. One afternoon, I had nothing to do, so I baked some pastries and brought them over. I spotted Silas before I reached the school. He was sitting alone under a tree, reading. On the other side of the yard, Julian was tossing a ball around with three other boys crowding him like he was the center of the universe. Right. Julian lived with the Luna. Everything he had was the best of the best, and every kid in this pack treated him like royalty. Last time, I’d been stupid enough to pull him away from all that and make him live with me, a nobody omega with no power and no connections. Him hating me, resenting me for dragging him down, I guess I couldn’t entirely blame him. I let out a dry laugh and looked away. My son was Silas now. All that mattered was that we lived our lives in peace. I carried the box over and sat down next to Silas. He looked up at me with a flicker of surprise. “Hungry?” I set the box on the table. “I just made these. Try some.” I’d barely gotten the pastries out when an impatient voice cut in. “Why do you keep showing up?” I turned around. Julian had already walked up close, not bothering to hide the irritation on his face. He pointed at the pastries, his face twisted in disgust. “The servants at Catherine’s house eat a hundred times better than this. I wouldn’t touch this garbage. Stop bringing this crap around to bother me.” Before I could say a word, Silas stood up. He stepped between me and Julian. “She’s your mother, Julian. How can you talk to her like that?” Julian scoffed. “My mother is the Luna. She’s nothing.” He waved his hand. “Take your garbage and go. Don’t come back.”

If this had been the old me, those words would have left me burning with shame. But now, all I felt was disappointment. I smiled lightly. “Julian, you’ve got it wrong.” I pulled Silas close. “I’m Silas’s mom. These are for him.” I bent down and ruffled Silas’s hair, then handed him a pastry. “Here, sweetie, try it. Tell me if it’s any good.” Julian’s face froze for a second after I said that. He’d probably never imagined that the woman who used to fuss over him would cut him loose and give all that warmth to a kid he thought was beneath him. Silas took a bite and smiled. “Thanks, Mom. It’s really good. I love it.” I grinned. “Good. I’ll make more next time.” I turned around with the pastries and looked at Julian and the other two boys standing there, stunned. “You guys want some too?” Kids are kids. Six, seven years old, always hungry. They perked up when I offered, already tempted. The other two were slowly reaching out their hands. “Don’t you dare!” Julian slapped their hands away. “It’s just some sad little pastry. The kitchen scraps at our house are better than this. Only losers who’ve never had anything decent would want this. I wouldn’t be caught dead eating it.” Then he looked at me and raised his chin. “You better remember what you said today. Don’t ever come looking for me again.” I watched Julian, furious and trying so hard to act like he didn’t care, and almost wanted to laugh. I nodded. “Don’t worry, Julian. My only son is Silas. Anything good I have goes to him.” Julian’s face went pale. He stomped his foot and spun around, shouting at the three boys still standing there dumbfounded. “What are you looking at? Let’s go!” Then he took off without looking back. The three boys scrambled after him. That night, Silas came home from school and I put him to bed like always. Just when I thought he was asleep, he said in a very small voice, “Mom.” He rolled over to face me. “Tomorrow when school’s out, could you bring me pastries again?” My heart went soft. “Of course.” I kept my voice gentle. “I’ll make more tomorrow, and I’ll come pick you up too.” Silas’s mouth curved into a happy little smile and he closed his eyes, perfectly content.

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The door opened. I started undressing. Three years of this had taught me not to think. Not to fight. Just comply. But tonight, instead of heavy breathing and the stench of feral musk, I heard a voice. “Elara, would you like to return to your mother’s side?” I had four fathers once. Four SSS-level Alpha Kings who ruled the four kingdoms. The Dragon King. The Bear Emperor. The Nine-Tailed Fox. The Phoenix Lord. I grew up beloved by all of them. I inherited my mother’s S-level calming power. I was the most envied female in the realm. Until Giselle arrived. The daughter of their former fated female. She whispered lies, and my fathers believed every one. She said I cursed her. The Dragon King stitched my mouth shut. She said I poisoned her. The Nine-Tailed Fox threw me into the Shadow-Spider Cavern, where insects devoured my face and ate my left eye. She said I defiled her. The Bear Emperor threw me into the Feral Dens. I became a rut slave. Mounted, clawed, bitten bloody by berserk shifters. And through it all, I was forced to use my calming power to soothe their savage minds. Three years of that. And now, a voice in the dark was offering me a way out. …… I jerked my head up. The room was empty. The voice came again, echoing inside my skull. It said it was Mother’s guardian spirit. That Mother was a traveler from another realm who’d left in a hurry, not knowing I’d survived. Now she knew. And she wanted me back. All I had to do was die. “Elara,” it murmured, “your mother has been desperate since learning you exist. Are you willing—” I didn’t let it finish. I grabbed a rusted blade and pressed it to my throat. Yes! Mother was alive! I’d see her soon! Pure joy drowned my fear of death. Just as I pulled back to slash— —something massive slammed into my wrist. Pain shot through my hand. The blade clattered to the floor. A taloned foot stomped down on it. “Elara. You trying to kill yourself?” I looked up. My mouth opened instinctively. “Fourth Dad.” I regretted it immediately. His expression darkened. “Don’t call me that. I severed our bond years ago.” The man before me was Rowan, the Phoenix Lord. When I was small, a feral warlord kidnapped me. Rowan tracked my scent alone to the warlord’s lair. He knelt before his sworn enemy in full shift, bared his throat three times, and let the warlord tear six gashes through his wings. All just to get me back unharmed. After I was rescued, I cried over his wounds. He just nuzzled my hair and said those gashes didn’t hurt at all. But watching me cry hurt so much he wanted to die. Of the four fathers, Fourth Dad loved me most. Too bad that love vanished four years ago when Second Dad brought injured Giselle back from the borderlands. I’d always known the four fathers shared an obsession—a female they’d never gotten over. I just didn’t know it wasn’t my mother. It was Giselle’s mother. They say the four fathers were once outcasts, each exiled from their own kind. Young Mother found them and helped each one reclaim their territory and rise as Alpha. They say Mother was their fated female—all four of them. But just before the bonding ceremony, Giselle’s mother Genevieve appeared. The moment she appeared, all four fathers shifted to her. After that, Mother supposedly grew jealous and tormented Genevieve. Finally, consumed by despair, Mother drowned herself in the river. After Mother died, Genevieve vanished too. Only when Giselle returned did the fathers learn the truth. Genevieve left because she felt responsible for Mother’s death. I never believed it. My instincts screamed Mother was innocent and Genevieve was poison. But fathers didn’t trust me. They said I was jealous like Mother, competing for mates. So whenever Giselle and I clashed, they chose her. Before long, I went from the most treasured female in the realm to a Feral Den slave. Fourth Dad picked up the fallen blade and studied the cut on my throat. Then he flipped it and drove the edge toward me. I jerked back. The blade kissed my skin, opening a fresh wound. Fourth Dad smiled coldly. “If you want to die so badly, why dodge?” “You’re just like your mother, Elara. Pathetic. Both of you hurt yourselves for attention.” “She was smarter though—she did it in front of all four of us.” “You picked this shithole. Stupid.”

I started to explain I wasn’t acting. Then I remembered—they never listened anyway. So I lowered my head. “You’re right, my lord. May I ask—did you come all this way just to watch me perform?” Fourth Dad blinked. “Don’t flatter yourself. Today is Giselle’s birthday and her Naming Rite. She’s being declared Sacred Female. She says she’s willing to forgive you. I’m here to bring you to her.” Three days ago I’d heard: First Dad was naming Giselle the Sacred Female. A title the four fathers had promised me since I was ten. Before, if someone took what was mine, I’d tear the whole territory apart. Now I just said, “I don’t want to go.” Fourth Dad stared. “That’s not your choice.” He grabbed me and dragged me out. Then brought me back to his nest, had me washed and groomed. He summoned his sky carriage, a gilded chariot drawn by two winged serpents. On the way, Fourth Dad wouldn’t stop talking. Bare your throat when you see Giselle, don’t provoke her, submit. My chest ached. The higher we flew, the louder Mother’s voice called in my head. So I stood, pushed open the carriage door, and jumped. I heard Fourth Dad’s scream behind me. At this height, I’d surely die. But the impact never came. I landed in warm arms instead. Fourth Dad had caught me. His wings folded around us as we crashed and rolled twice on the ground. His furious roar shook the air. “Elara! Have you lost your mind!” I looked up. Blood from a gash on his forehead dripped onto my face. I reached up to wipe it away. His expression turned vicious. “Stop these games. You just want to see if I still care. I don’t. I’d catch any falling creature. If I’d known you’d pull this, I never would’ve dove after you.” “Next time you want to die, go ahead. I won’t bother.” My hand froze. I caught the shimmer of the river below us. I smiled bitterly. “Good. Remember that, Rowan.” Before he could react, I sprang up and dove straight into the river. Fourth Dad nearly drowned as a cub. Deep water terrified him more than anything. And after what he’d just said? He wouldn’t save me. So when the icy current flooded my lungs, I was happy. Finally. I was going home to Mother.

I don’t know how long the darkness lasted. When it lifted, I sat up—desperate to find Mother. Then someone’s hand cracked across my face. “Selfish bitch! We only had you doing chores at the dens, and the second you see Rowan you throw yourself in the river? You know he almost drowned saving you!” Third Dad’s voice rang overhead, his face twisted with fury. Of the four fathers, I’d been closest to him. The others were too busy ruling their clans, so raising me fell to Third Dad. He taught me to read scent trails, identify healing herbs, mix remedies. He was always gentle. No matter what I did wrong, he never punished me. He only guided me with soft words. But the day Giselle returned, this male who’d never even bared his fangs at me struck me for the first time. Giselle touched one of his venomous spirit beasts and got stung. She swore I was the one who put it on her. Third Dad’s tails lashed the air. He struck me across the back so hard my skin split open. “This is my fault, Elara. I didn’t raise you properly. That’s why you’ve become so rotten, treating lives like toys.” Later when Giselle was poisoned again, Third Dad fed me a pill that attracted shadow-spiders. Then he threw me into the Venom Pit. Thousands of creatures burrowed into my flesh, laid eggs under my skin, burst out in sprays of blood. Even after Third Dad healed me, I’d lost my left eye. Seeing my silence now, he took it as admission. His fury deepened. He raised his hand to strike again. Fourth Dad caught his wrist. “Brother, calm down. Today is Giselle’s Naming Rite. Elara probably can’t handle it. She tried killing herself three times in front of me.” I glanced at Fourth Dad. He’d shifted back to human form. His wounds were bandaged. But his face was deathly pale. Third Dad snorted. “You’ve been away from court too long. She’s pulled this stunt dozens of times over four years. Just another grab for attention.” Fourth Dad paused—then exhaled in relief. “So that’s what this is.” Third Dad turned back to me. “Elara, today is Giselle’s birthday. Throw your tantrum here if you must—but don’t you dare make a scene in front of First Dad and Second Dad. You know how they are…” Before he finished, I lunged for the medicine chest behind him. I’d lived with Third Dad long enough to know exactly where he kept his deadliest poisons. I grabbed the worst one and swallowed it. Third Dad’s face went white.

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In a world where people killed each other over half a can of food, I had four dads who spoiled me like a princess. After Mom died, her four closest comrades found me still alive inside her womb. So I ended up with four dads. First Dad, Ethan, was the Commander of Fortress Eden. Second Dad, Nathan, was the Warden — the most vicious criminals turned obedient in front of him. Third Dad, Callum, was a brilliant scientist, leading the hunt for a vaccine. Fourth Dad, Xander, was the strongest fighter the base had ever seen. I grew up wrapped in their love. Every woman in the safe zone envied me. Until the year I turned sixteen, when they found Jade, the daughter of the woman they had all once loved. From that day on, my four dads became strangers. Jade said I insulted her. Ethan Dad had my mouth wired shut and starved me for three days and nights. She said I poisoned her. Callum Dad strapped me down and injected me with a vaccine still in testing. The serum ravaged me from the inside out, destroying one of my eyes. When Jade claimed I’d hired men to assault her, Xander Dad grabbed me by the collar and threw me into the refugee slum outside the inner walls. Three years passed. I went from fury to submission. Until tonight, my tent flap opened again, I began undressing out of habit. Then I heard a voice say, “Lily, do you want to come back to your mother?” I snapped my head up. But the room was empty. At the same moment, a voice echoed through my mind. It said it was a faint trace of my mother’s consciousness. My mother was from future. After completing her mission, she’d left in a hurry, never expecting that she would have a daughter. Now she knew. She wanted to take me home. All I had to do was let this body die. It spoke again. “Lily, your mother has been desperate since she found out about you. Will you—” It hadn’t even finished when I was already on my feet. Without hesitation, I grabbed a blade and pressed it against my throat. This was wonderful. Mom was alive. And I was about to see her. A joy so massive it drowned out every fear of death. But just as I pressed the blade harder, a tremendous force struck my hand. Pain shot through my fingers. I let go. The blade hit the floor. A boot came down on top of it. “Lily. You want to die?” I knew that voice. My head lifted on instinct. When I saw who it was, I called out without thinking. “Xander Dad.” The moment it left my mouth, I already regretted it. Sure enough, the man’s brow furrowed. “Don’t call me that. I cut ties with you a long time ago.”

The man standing before me was Xander, the strongest fighter in the base. When I was small, a rival faction inside the base had kidnaped me. To make them let me go, Xander stood in front of their leader and took three bullets without flinching — just to bring me back without a scratch. After I was rescued, I cried looking at his wounds. He just stroked my head and told me those cuts felt like nothing to him. But watching me cry, he said, nearly killed him. Among my four dads, Xander Dad loved me the most. It was a shame that love vanished four years ago, the day Nathan Dad brought a wounded Jade back from a supply search. I had always known my four dads had all loved the same woman once. What I never knew was that she wasn’t my mother. She was Jade’s mother. They say my four dads were the son of a legendary warrior named Marcus. The former base commander, General Victor, had feared Marcus’s growing influence and purged his entire faction on fabricated charges. It was my young mother who hid them, smuggling each boy to a different base. When they grew strong enough, she helped them rise up and take back the base. Ethan Dad became the new Commander. Justice was finally done. They say my mother and Ethan Dad were deeply in love. But just before their wedding, a woman named Serena appeared. One look at her, and all four men forgot themselves. My mother kept trying to fight for what was hers. In the end, jealousy consumed her, and she took her own life. After she died, Serena disappeared too. Only when Jade came back did they learn the truth. Serena left because she felt guilty for my mother’s death. Honestly, I never believed any of that. My instincts told me my mother was not the villain. Serena was. But my dads didn’t trust my instincts. They decided I was just like her. Jealous. Petty. Causing trouble. So every time I clashed with Jade, they took her side. It wasn’t long before I went from their beloved little princess to a ghost in the base. Xander 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. Xander gave a cold laugh. “If you want to die that badly, why did you dodge?” “Lily. You’re just like that mother of yours. Pathetic. Always hurting yourself to get someone’s 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 was about to explain I wasn’t performing. Then I remembered. Every explanation I had ever given, they ignored. I lowered my head. “You’re right, Xander. And may I ask why you’ve come all the way here? Was it specifically to watch me perform?” Xander paused. “Don’t flatter yourself. Today is Jade’s birthday. She said recently that she’s willing to forgive you and be friends again. I came to bring you to her.” Three days ago, word had spread that the Commander intended to name Jade his successor. He had arranged a ceremony at the base on her birthday to make it official. I was one year older than her. That was a promise Ethan Dad had made to me when I was ten — that one day, I would lead after him. In the past, if anyone tried to take something of mine, I would have burned the whole place down before letting them have it. Now I simply looked at Xander without expression. “I don’t want to go.” Xander paused. Then he said, “That’s not your choice to make.” He grabbed me by the arm and hauled me out. He shoved me into the SUV and drove toward the command hall. Sitting in the SUV, Xander talked into my ear the entire time. I needed to kneel when I saw Jade. I needed to stop angering her. My chest ached quietly. I watched the road blur faster and faster outside. The thought of seeing my mother grew louder and louder in my mind. I stood up, shoved the door open, and jumped. Before I hit the ground, I heard a shout. I thought, at this speed, I would finally manage it. Instead of the impact I expected, I fell into something warm. Xander had caught me. We rolled across the ground twice together. His furious voice broke over my head. “Lily. Are you insane?” I looked at him. Blood from a cut on his forehead ran down his face. I reached up to wipe it away. His expression turned vicious. “Can you stop this? You just want to see if I still care about you. I’m telling you right now, rescuing you means nothing. I would have done the same for any stranger. If I’d known what you were thinking, I never would have jumped.” “From now on, if you want to die, go ahead. I’m not stopping you.” My hand froze in the air. From the corner of my eye, I spotted the lake just off the road. I smiled faintly. “Okay, Xander. Remember what you said.” Before he could react, I was on my feet. I turned and threw myself into the water. Xander had nearly drowned as a child. Water was his one fear. And he had just said those words. He was not coming in after me. So when the freezing water rushed into my lungs, I felt nothing but relief. Finally. I was going to see Mom.

After some time, the darkness cleared. I sat up eagerly, ready to find mom. Then someone slapped me hard onto the floor. “You worthless girl. All we did was send you to the slum to reflect. And you pull this stunt the moment you see Xander. Do you have any idea what you’ve done? He almost drowned trying to pull you out.” Callum Dad’s voice came from above me. His face was dark with fury. Of my four dads, I had been closest to Callum. The others were constantly occupied. So the task of raising me had fallen on him. He taught me to read. He taught me biology and medicine. He was always gentle. No matter how badly I misbehaved, he guided me with patience and never once punished me. But the Callum who never raised his voice at me struck me on Jade’s very first day back. That time, Jade had contaminated Callum’s pathogen samples herself. Then she told him I did it. Callum took a belt to me. “Lily, this is my failure. I raised you to be reckless and careless. Do you have any idea how many lives depend on those samples?” Later, when Jade claimed I’d injected her with an untested serum, Callum did the same to me — strapped me down, pumped his experimental serum into my body, and locked me in the ward as a test subject. The serum burned through me like acid — every nerve screaming, my skin splitting open, my body convulsing until I nearly stopped breathing. Though Callum treated me afterward, I still lost an eye. Now he stood over me, silent fury building. He raised his hand to strike again. At the last moment, Xander caught his wrist. “Eli, calm down. Today is Jade’s ceremony. She apparently can’t handle it. She’s already tried to kill herself three times in front of me.” I glanced at Xander. He had changed clothes. His wounds were bandaged. But his face was pale. I remembered what Callum had said. Xander couldn’t swim. Whatever it had cost him to pull me out of that lake, it wasn’t nothing. Callum scoffed. “Xander, you’ve been fooled. Four years ago you were away on a mission. She pulled these tricks constantly in front of all of us. She just wants our attention.” Xander relaxed slightly, as if something inside him unclenched. “So that’s what it was.” Callum looked back at me. “Lily, today is Jade’s birthday. If you need to act out, do it in front of us. Don’t take it to Ethan Dad or Nathan Dad. You know how those two are…” He didn’t finish. I was already lunging toward his medicine cabinet. I had lived with Callum long enough to know where he kept his most lethal drugs. I found the worst one and swallowed it before anyone could stop me. Callum went white.

The drug was bitter. But I felt light. Callum had once told me there was no antidote for this one. If I swallowed it, it was over. Callum only froze for a moment. Then he was in front of me, forcing his fingers into my mouth. “Do you know what you just took?” 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. Only when the blood turned red did he breathe again. “Lily. It’s just a position. Was dying really worth it?” Xander was still shaking. He had finally accepted I was serious, and his voice trembled. “Lily, don’t do this again. Actually, yesterday all four of us spoke with Jade. She said she’s ready to forgive you. After today, you can come back to live with us. We’ll treat you the way we used to. Okay?” Hearing that, tears fell from my eyes. Both men assumed it was relief. The next second I dropped to my knees before them. “Callum Dad. Xander Dad. Please. Just let me go.” Callum’s face reddened. “Lily, do you understand what we just said…” “I understand.” I no longer wanted to hide it. “But I don’t want to go back. I want to find my mother.” I told them everything the voice in my head had said. Their expressions shifted and twisted as they listened. Finally, Callum helped me up. “Lily, listen to me. Your mother is truly gone.” She had drowned in the lake years ago. Ethan Dad pulled her out, but Callum had used everything he knew and still couldn’t save her. Afterward, all four of them removed me from her womb and kept vigil for seven days. They watched her body rotten until there was nothing left. Callum said the voice in my head was probably a trauma-induced hallucination. It wasn’t. I was certain. But no matter how I insisted, they refused to believe me. Callum sighed. “If you truly don’t want to come back, then stay here with me. As long as you behave, I won’t let anyone hurt you again.” I was about to shake my head. Heavy boots came pounding from outside. Moments later, Ethan Dad and Nathan Dad rushed in. “Callum, Xander, have you seen Jade? She’s missing.”

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My name is Haley Sterling. When I was seven years old, Julian Sterling brought me home from the orphanage. He saved me. He gave me a home. But when I fell hopelessly in love with him and kissed him, he coldly turned his head away. “Haley, you disgust me.” After waking up from a car crash, I lost my memories. Everyone let out a sigh of relief. But in the dead of night, Julian broke into my room. He bit my earlobe and whispered, “Haley, you’re just sick. That’s why you forgot about us.” I pushed him away. “Julian, I’m cured. Even my sickness of loving you is gone.” It hurt. My head throbbed so badly… Just before I opened my eyes and fully regained consciousness, I heard a polite, gentle voice. “Mr. Sterling, your daughter has minor head trauma. We can’t rule out the possibility of amnesia.” I froze. Amnesia? Images flashed through my mind. My parents’ disappointed eyes, a man’s cold indifference. And in the mirror, my own twisted, frantic face, filled with resentment and hatred. Then let it be amnesia. Forget everything, just like everyone wanted. I opened my eyes. A second later, several anxious figures rushed to my bedside. My mom held my hand, her eyes rimmed with red, her face full of worry. “Haley, how are you feeling? Does anything hurt?” I stared at her, my eyes blank and confused. “Who are you?” Shock flashed across her face. She frowned, panicked. “Haley, it’s me. I’m your mother.” I repeated the word softly. “Mother?” Then I shook my head, looking at her helplessly. “Mom, my head hurts so much. I’ve forgotten so many things. I can’t remember anything.” I leaned my cheek against her hand, rubbing against it like a stray kitten. “It’s okay, sweetheart. If you can’t remember, don’t force it. Mom is right here,” she soothed. I nodded obediently, then turned my gaze to scan the other people in the room. Looking at the man standing beside her, his powerful aura intact but his face softened with pity, I whispered, “Dad?” He wasn’t used to showing affection, but he still gave me a gentle nod. Suppressing the sting in my nose, I looked at the last man. His face was an icy mask, his brow slightly furrowed. His dark eyes were like a black hole, ready to swallow any emotion. “And you are?” The hospital room fell dead silent. You could hear a pin drop. Everyone’s expressions shifted, thick with tension. “It’s… it’s Julian, Haley,” my mom spoke up, breaking the suffocating silence. I let out a relaxed smile and called out obediently, “Julian.” My parents looked shocked. Tears of relief actually welled in my mother’s eyes. For some reason, I thought I saw a flash of emptiness on his cold face. My eyes, however, were completely calm. A peaceful surrender. Julian, in this life, I will be exactly what you want. I will be your sister. A sister who will never, ever cross the line.

My mom whispered a few more soothing words, but her eyes kept darting toward the door. Finally, she spoke softly. “Haley, Seraphina is outside. Do you want to see her?” I froze. My head started throbbing again, like someone was slicing it with a dull knife. In my mind, the screeching of tires and the violent crash echoed. All I could see was a blinding flash of red. But I still forced a sweet, obedient smile. “If you want me to see her, Mom, I will.” A relieved smile appeared on my mom’s face. Seraphina Vance walked in. She stopped at the foot of my bed, clutching her designer bag tightly, her face stained with tears. She started crying the moment she opened her mouth. “Haley, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you with my car, I swear! Please don’t hate me, and please don’t come between Julian and me. I love him so much. I’ll get down on my knees and beg you if I have to!” My heart felt ice-cold, but my face remained blank and innocent. She made a show of lowering herself to the ground, but her eyes kept darting to me. Her half-bent knees froze, making her look incredibly foolish. Eventually, Julian grabbed her hand and pulled her back up. Seraphina leaned into his chest, sobbing softly. His arm wrapped around her waist, but his sharp, piercing eyes were locked onto me. “You can’t entirely blame Seraphina for this. Haley ran out out of nowhere. Seraphina didn’t have time to brake.” Was that really what happened? When I ran into the street, your car was moving slowly. We were at least twenty feet apart. Through the windshield, I saw Seraphina’s face clearly. She was smiling. A cruel, triumphant smile. And what about you, Julian, sitting in the passenger seat? You looked at me with nothing but coldness and disgust. What were you thinking back then? Were you thinking that I would get out of the way out of fear? Or did you want this disgusting sister—the one who dared to love you and tried to stop your engagement—to just die? If Julian hadn’t grabbed the steering wheel at the last second and slammed on the brakes, I really would have died under those tires. I averted my eyes first, looking at the weeping, delicate Seraphina in his arms. “Seraphina, even though I’ve forgotten some things, Julian is right. I must have been at fault too. Why would I want to break you two up? We’re going to be family soon anyway.” Seraphina was so shocked she stopped crying. Pure joy flashed in her eyes. Julian still stood like a statue by my bed. He was tall, his expression dark. When those cold eyes looked down at me, it was like he was looking at something worthless. And he was right. My life was cheap. It was only because of the scraps of charity Julian had thrown my way that I became the heiress of the Sterling family. How could someone as lowly as me ever dare to crave someone so far out of reach?

Before I became the pampered Haley Sterling, I was just an orphan girl in a run-down shelter in this city. On the day the Sterling family came to adopt, the director gathered all the girls in the courtyard, lined up like products for inspection. I was small and malnourished. I was easily pushed into the very back by the bigger, healthier kids. Every child there knew that being chosen meant escaping hunger and cold. It meant a ticket to heaven. Gradually, I found it hard to breathe. Survival instinct kicked in, and I started waving my arms frantically, trying to be seen. After what felt like forever, the suffocating crowd suddenly parted. I opened my eyes, and Julian was standing right in front of me. I remember that day clearly. The old oak tree in the courtyard had just sprouted its first green leaves of spring. A gentle breeze swept across my face, carrying the scent of damp earth and fresh grass. The young boy looked down at me, placing a pale, slender hand on my head. “Her. I’ll take her.” Those simple words, like a divine decree, changed my life forever. I went from an ugly duckling stuck in the mud to the high-society daughter of the Sterling family. Only later did I find out why Julian chose me. The Sterlings’ biological daughter, Angelica, had drowned. Before she went under, she had waved her arms helplessly, just like I did. My adoptive parents were always busy, and Julian didn’t really have any feelings for me. I was basically raised by the nannies. But while the nannies could provide gourmet meals and a warm, luxurious bed, they couldn’t stop the bullying at school. Back then, my classmates called me a charity case, a parasite, and a thief who stole someone else’s life. I kept my head down and let them drag me through the dirt. I knew protesting was useless; no one would stand up for me. Until the day Julian was sent by our mother to attend my parent-teacher conference. He saw them throwing trash and broken pencils at my head. He heard the vulgar insults they hurled at me. Only then was I rescued from that never-ending nightmare. The kids who bullied me were forced to kneel in a row, apologizing to me. They cried, slapping their own faces. But I knew they weren’t kneeling to me. They were kneeling to the terrifying, cold-faced teenager standing beside me. Julian had saved my life once again. When did I start developing those forbidden feelings? Was it when he shielded me from the bullies, holding my shoulders? Was it when his hand covered mine, teaching me my first piano piece? Or was it during my first extravagant birthday party, when he looked at me with such tenderness amid the crowded room? I wasn’t greedy or shameless. I never intended to expose this dirty, secret crush. If only that accidental, intoxicating kiss had never happened. That day, I thought I saw a glimmer of hope. Like a drowning person, I reached out, thinking he would save me again. But instead, I got his freezing words: “Haley, you’re sick. You disgust me.” Julian, you saved me, only to drag me down to hell with your own hands. You made me, and you destroyed me.

Except for my fake amnesia, my physical injuries weren’t severe. At my request, my mom handled the discharge papers and took me home. Up until the day I left the hospital, I never saw Julian again. It was an unspoken agreement. No one mentioned him in front of me. My forgetting him was a blessing the entire Sterling family was incredibly grateful for. After all, the elite Sterling family couldn’t afford a scandal about a twisted girl who fell in love with her own brother. On the day I got home, my mom and the chef prepared a massive feast. Julian showed up too. At the dinner table, Julian was a carbon copy of our stern, silent father. He kept his head down, acting mature and composed, not saying a single unnecessary word. Only my mom kept talking, trying to make me feel comfortable. But every time my eyes accidentally drifted toward Julian, she would tense up. I suppose the trauma of her adopted daughter falling in love with her biological son had left a deep scar. I felt a pang of guilt, which only solidified my decision. “Mom, Dad, I want to go to grad school in London.” The moment those words left my mouth, all clinking of silverware stopped. In my peripheral vision, I felt Julian’s pitch-black eyes locking onto me. My body stiffened, but I didn’t look at him. My mom put down her fork, looking puzzled. “Why the sudden decision to study abroad?” “I just want to further my education.” Honestly, when I graduated high school, my parents wanted to send me abroad. But back then, I only wanted to stay by Julian’s side. “Well, if that’s what you want, I…” Before my mom could finish, a deep voice cut her off. “No.” Everyone looked at Julian. His face was expressionless, but his throat bobbed with difficulty. “Mom, Haley just got out of the hospital. She hasn’t fully recovered, and her memory is still hazy. Are you really comfortable sending her across the world right now?” My mom nodded, turning to persuade me. I offered a reassuring smile. “I’m not leaving tomorrow. It’s only July. I wouldn’t leave until September at the earliest. Mom, please let me go.” My mom had always spoiled me. But that affection was never pure. Every time she looked at me, I felt like she was looking at someone else through me. Probably her poor, deceased child. She hesitated, glancing at Julian, but eventually, she sighed. “Alright, sweetheart.” She told me to pick a university soon so she could make the arrangements. “Are you really that desperate to leave?” Julian spoke, his eyes dark and unreadable. Julian, you wanted to get rid of me so badly. Now that I’m leaving, shouldn’t you be thrilled? I smiled. “Don’t worry, Julian. I’ll make sure to fly back for your wedding.” He froze. His grip on his fork tightened until his knuckles turned white. A flash of pure fury crossed his eyes before vanishing. “Do whatever you want.”

“Haley, did you really lose your memory?” In my bedroom, my best friend, Chloe Montgomery, was circling me, inspecting my head with deep concern. I blinked innocently. “Really.” She looked skeptical, tapping my forehead. “Then do you remember me?” I smiled. “Of course. You’re Chloe.” She looked even more confused. “Then what did you forget?” My smile faded. “Just some meaningless things. Things that only brought me pain.” She went quiet, understanding the unspoken implication. After a long pause, she asked cautiously, “So, are you going to Julian’s birthday party the day after tomorrow?” Julian’s birthday. In the past, I cared about his birthday more than he did. I would make his gifts by hand, never repeating a concept. I would design every detail of his party. He never cared, but I minded every little thing. I always felt Julian’s birthday held a sacred meaning for me. Because of him, my life had been saved. But this year, I had almost forgotten it. I guess no pain is too deep to be erased after a clean slate. Humans are wired to avoid pain, after all. “What are you planning to get him this year?” I thought about it. “I’ll just buy a watch from your family’s brand.” Chloe stunned, clearly not expecting this. For his birthday last year, I had literally flown to France to learn his favorite French recipes, and I even hand-designed a custom watch strap, hiring a master craftsman to make it. The contrast in effort was staggering. “What? Don’t want my money?” I teased. Chloe snapped out of it and laughed. “Are you kidding? I’d love nothing more than for a Sterling heiress to boost my family’s sales.” Julian, I hope you like this year’s gift. The birthday party was just a glorified networking event for the city’s elite youth. Julian was surrounded by a crowd, wearing his trademark polite but distant smile. He held his champagne glass high, looking like an undefeated general. He was always so powerful, so invincible. He navigated the room with effortless grace. The flashing lights were giving me a headache, so I put down my glass and slipped away toward the second-floor balcony for some fresh air. “Seraphina, I heard Julian’s adopted sister is a real piece of work. You won’t let her bully you once you marry into the family, right?” Behind the heavy green velvet curtains, I froze. “I heard about her too. Apparently, she’s obsessed with Julian. Is that true? He’s literally her brother. That’s so disgusting.” “She’s adopted, though. They aren’t blood-related.” “Still gross. Crushing on her own brother? She’s a freak.” Then came a malicious laugh. “She’s just a street rat playing dress-up. She actually thinks she’s a real Sterling. Imagine trying to seduce Julian. She should look in the mirror and see if she’s even worthy.” It was Seraphina’s mocking voice. “Shh, keep it down. If someone hears us… no matter what, she’s still a Sterling. We can’t afford to mess with them.” “What heiress? The Sterlings don’t care about her. I literally hit her with my car, and they didn’t do anything to me. Julian even defended me. That proves she has zero status in that house.” Even through the thick curtains, I could picture the smug sneer on Seraphina’s face. After a brief silence, a timid voice asked, “Wait… you mean you hit Haley on purpose?” “I only regret not hitting her harder. A freak like her who lusts after her own brother…” Before she could finish, I ripped the curtains open. I grabbed Seraphina by her hair and slammed her face straight into the brick wall. Thud. Her forehead split open, and blood began to trickle down her face. The balcony erupted into high-pitched screams. Someone tried to drag me off her, but I violently shook them off. I leaned down, whispering right into Seraphina’s ear, “Not hard enough, you say? Want to see if I have the guts to throw you off this balcony?”

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At seven years old, I got lost in the city. That was when I met Vivian, who was starving on the streets. I lied to my mom, telling her I wanted a sister. Because of that lie, my mother adopted her. Eighteen years later, Vivian graduated from an Ivy League school, became the darling of high society, and had countless suitors. But she never dated. She always told everyone that love was a distraction for the weak. Until I accompanied her on a business trip, and our plane hit once-in-a-century severe turbulence. Thinking my life was ending, my hands shook as I dialed my fiancé, Julian Vance. I wanted to tell him that if I survived this, I wanted to marry him as soon as possible. I called him one hundred and thirty-two times. Not a single call went through. Just as I was about to record my final voicemail in despair, Vivian started sobbing hysterically from the row in front of me. “Julian, I regret it… I regret rejecting your confession back then just because I didn’t want to hurt Clara!” Julian’s voice came through her phone. It was filled with a panicked, desperate worry I had never heard before. “Don’t be scared, baby. The moment you land, we’re going public. Nobody is going to stop me from marrying you.” At that moment, my blood ran cold. The two people I loved most in the world had been screwing around behind my back all along.

The plane shook violently. Screams echoed through the cabin. Luggage tumbled from the overhead bins, mirroring the collapse of my entire world. I clutched my phone so hard my knuckles turned white. The screen still showed the call log of my unanswered dials. In the row ahead, Vivian’s loud crying gradually died down into soft whimpers. “But what about Clara? She’s my best friend…” Just then, the PA system crackled to life. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have successfully cleared the turbulence. We expect to land at JFK in twenty minutes.” The cabin erupted into cheers of relief. Some people hugged and cried. Others folded their hands in prayer, thanking God. Vivian instinctively turned around. The moment our eyes met, she panicked and tried to cover her phone screen. “Clara… how much of that did you hear?” I pressed my lips together. “Every single word.” Even without the speakerphone on, I could hear Julian’s frantic voice bleeding through the receiver. “Vivian? Don’t be scared! I’m already contacting emergency services—” I snatched the phone from her hand and spoke into it, my voice icy. “The plane is stable, Julian. Nobody is dying.” “But since you’re both so lively, tell me—when did this start?” The other end fell into a long, heavy silence. When he finally spoke, his first instinct was still to protect Vivian. “I fell for Vivian first. If you want to blame someone, blame me.” “The wedding in three months is off. I’ll pay whatever compensation you want.” Yet just yesterday, when I excitedly told him I was coming to see him, Julian had counted the days on his fingers. He had whined like a lost puppy, saying he hadn’t seen me in a month and three days. Suddenly, a memory flashed in my mind. During our last FaceTime call, Vivian had been sitting on the edge of my bed, drying her hair. Julian’s gaze had seemed so intense, but it had never actually focused on my face. At the time, I thought he was just busy with work while talking to me. But now I realized that deep, passionate look staring through the screen was actually focused on the blurry silhouette behind me. Vivian snapped out of her shock and stumbled over, throwing herself at me. “Clara, please don’t misunderstand!” “I was just so terrified… my hands were shaking and I dialed the wrong number!” “Julian and I… there’s nothing between us!” Julian must have heard the commotion over the line. His voice raised defensively. “Clara Miller! Don’t you dare take this out on Vivian. This was all my doing.” “If you want to scream, scream at me. Don’t hurt her!” I hadn’t even raised my voice, yet Julian was already convinced I was going to abuse Vivian. With a cold laugh, I shoved the phone back into her hands. I went back to my seat, pulled the blanket over my head, and let my tears fall in the dark. The year my mom adopted Vivian, she held me and cried, saying she finally had a real family. A year ago, when Julian and I got engaged, his eyes had welled up as he swore I was the only woman he would ever marry. But three people in a relationship is just too crowded. The two people who only met because of me had now locked me out of my own life.

Twenty minutes later, the plane taxied smoothly onto the runway. As we slowed down, Vivian poked my shoulder through the blanket. “Clara, are you still mad at me?” “Take the blanket off, you’re going to suffocate.” Her voice was soft, carrying her usual submissive, apologetic tone. I didn’t answer. The moment the seatbelt sign dinged, I grabbed my carry-on and was the first to walk out of the cabin. Through the massive glass windows of the airport, I spotted Julian standing by the arrivals gate immediately. Usually the picture of aristocratic composure, he was now anxiously pacing, checking his watch every five seconds. As if sensing my gaze, he looked up. When his eyes met mine, a flash of disappointment crossed his face. It was quick, but I caught it. Then, he saw Vivian walking out behind me. In an instant, his anxiety melted into pure, unadulterated tenderness. “Vivian!” Julian pushed right past me, rushing to wrap a sobbing Vivian into his arms. “Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? You must have been so scared!” I had just survived the same near-death experience. Yet Julian didn’t even spare me a glance. “Julian Vance,” I called out, my voice flat. Julian stiffened, finally remembering I existed. “I admit I did you wrong, Clara. But now that it’s out in the open, I’m not marrying you.” “Besides, when our families arranged this merger alliance, they never specified it had to be you.” “Vivian is also a daughter of the Miller family. Swapping brides won’t affect the business deal.” Swapping brides? So he and Vivian could live happily ever after in the light. And what about me? Was I just supposed to quietly accept being betrayed by both my fiancé and my sister? Was I supposed to become the laughingstock of New York high society? A fire raged in my chest, burning my throat. I raised my hand and slapped Julian across the face, hard. He froze, utterly shocked that I had dared to lay a hand on him. Vivian shrieked, instantly dropping to her knees in front of me. “Clara, hit me instead!” “It’s all my fault! I’m the shameless one. I fell for someone I shouldn’t have!” Julian quickly hauled Vivian up from the floor, shielding her behind his back. “Clara Miller! Have you lost your mind?” “Do you have any idea that six months ago, Vivian aborted our baby just to spare your feelings?!” I froze. A loud ringing filled my ears. Six months ago, Vivian had come to me crying, saying she was pregnant. I asked her who the father was. She said they had no future and that she wanted to get rid of it. I had cried tears of sympathy for her. I scolded her for not using protection while simultaneously booking her the best private OB-GYN in the city. To protect her reputation, I had signed the abortion paperwork under my own name. After the surgery, I was the one who stayed by her bedside, nursing her back to health for a solid month. I even went to church every Sunday for a month to light candles for her unborn child. And now, Julian was telling me that the baby was his. I had literally nursed my fiancé’s mistress back to health after her abortion, and prayed for their dead bastard. My hand flew up again. But Julian grabbed my wrist, throwing me to the side with utter disgust. “I took the first slap because I owed you that.” “But do you know how much I wished you would just find out about us sooner?” “I would rather you hit me and curse at me than force Vivian to keep living as my secret lover in the shadows!” My elbow slammed violently into the hard marble floor. The skin scraped open, and blood began to seep out. But that pain was nothing compared to the feeling of my heart being ripped to shreds. I should have seen the signs. Whenever Julian came to visit me, he always “accidentally” went to Vivian’s room first. Whenever our dates became outings for three, they would talk about things I didn’t understand. Whenever he bought me a gift, he always brought a duplicate for Vivian… But I had been blinded by trust. I had mistaken Julian’s kindness to Vivian as him loving me enough to love my family.

I didn’t go to the hotel we had booked. Instead, I sat in the airport lounge and booked the earliest flight back home. My phone vibrated. It was my dad. “Clara, did you meet up with Julian?” I choked back a sob. “I’m calling off the wedding.” My dad asked cautiously, “Did you two have a fight?” I wiped my nose. “He’s cheating on me. With Vivian.” The line went dead silent for so long I thought the call had dropped. “Clara, don’t take it too hard,” When my dad’s voice returned, he sounded almost… relieved. “You can’t force these things.” “You know how Vivian is. She’s had a hard life since she was a kid, and she’s always had a strong personality.” “If they fell for each other, it just means they were meant to be.” I froze. My fingers tightened around the phone. “Dad, what are you talking about?” I shook with rage, my voice turning sharp. “Meant to be? Vivian seduced my fiancé! That’s called being a shameless home-wrecker!” My dad’s tone turned accusatory, as if I were the one in the wrong. “Clara, don’t be so selfish. Since they love each other, why can’t you just bless them and step aside?” My temples throbbed violently. I couldn’t believe these words were coming from the father who had spoiled me my entire life. “She stole my fiancé, and I’m the selfish one for not giving him to her?” “Dad! I’m your biological daughter! Vivian is just an outsider we adopted!” My dad sighed, his voice dripping with forced helplessness. “Silly girl. How could Vivian be an outsider?” “She’s your older half-sister.” The noisy chatter of the airport seemed to fade into absolute silence. But my dad kept twisting the knife. “Vivian’s mother was my first love. After we broke up, she kept the pregnancy a secret and raised Vivian alone.” “The year you ‘accidentally’ got lost at seven years old? I planned that. I needed you to find Vivian and beg your mother to adopt her.” “She suffered so much in her childhood. Just let her have this one.” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. So that was it. No wonder Vivian was my dad’s favorite the moment she stepped into our house. No wonder every time we argued, I was always the one who got scolded. No wonder after my mom passed away, my dad treated Vivian like she was his entire world. “Clara? Are you listening? Just let this go. Don’t make a scene and make our family look bad.” I swallowed the metallic taste of blood in my mouth before finding my voice. “You and Vivian… you really are father and daughter.” “One is a cheating bastard, and the other is a husband-stealing whore!” I slammed the phone down and canceled my flight home. While waiting for an Uber, my phone chimed with an Instagram notification. Vivian had just posted. It was a photo of a man cutting a steak for her. The caption read: [It feels so good to finally love each other out in the open.] The likes below the photo included my dad, Julian, and all of our mutual friends from our social circle. They were all leaving comments, wishing the “happy couple” the best. So, everyone knew about their affair. Only I, the stupid fool, had been celebrating my “perfect” life of friendship and love. I turned off my phone, completely unable to sleep. The moment I closed my eyes, memories of Julian’s “love” filled my head. Last month, when I had a fever, he ran out in the pouring rain at midnight to buy me stomach medicine. He had come back soaked to the skin, but the medicine was kept dry in his jacket. But as I replayed the scene in my mind, I remembered the bag didn’t just have stomach medicine. It was mostly filled with Ibuprofen for menstrual cramps. Vivian had laughed when she saw it. “Clara, Julian is so sweet. He bought every medicine you could possibly need.” Back then, my heart had melted, and I had handed the Ibuprofen to her. “Here, you can use these too!” Vivian had taken them and fallen silent. I thought she was just jealous of my attentive boyfriend, so I told her that when she found a boyfriend, he would treat her like a princess too. Vivian had just stroked my hair with a bitter smile. “Clara, even if I love someone, we can never be together in this lifetime.” I asked her why. She just clutched the box of Ibuprofen and refused to answer. I didn’t get it then. I just thought she was being dramatic. But now I understood. The man Vivian loved was Julian. And the “casual hookups” she always talked about had only ever been one person.

A wave of intense nausea hit me. I rushed to the bathroom, but I could only dry heave. My phone buzzed again. It was a Snapchat from Vivian. It was a photo of her and Julian’s fingers intertwined. During our five years together, Julian had always refused to hold my hand or kiss me. Whenever I tried to initiate intimacy, he would gently push me away, saying he wanted to respect me and save it for marriage. But in reality, he was saving all his intimacy for Vivian. Then came a voice message, her tone dripping with smugness. “Oh, Clara, I’m so sorry! I meant to send that to someone else. My hand slipped.” “It’s been over a minute, so Snapchat won’t let me unsend it. Sorry!” I recorded a sixty-second voice reply. Using every vile curse word I knew, I wished those two disgusting pigs a painful death. Less than a minute after I sent it, a loud, angry pounding shook my door. I opened it to find Julian, his face dark with fury. “Do you have any idea how hurtful your words are?!” “Vivian only has you as a friend. Can’t you be a little kinder to her?!” Hearing his self-righteous accusations, I lost all my sanity. “Did I lie? Her mother was a home-wrecking mistress, so of course her daughter is—” Before I could finish, Julian’s palm crashed against my face. “Clara Miller! Shut up!” “Vivian’s mother met your dad first! Vivian was born before you!” “If we’re talking about who came first, your mother was the mistress, and you are the bastard!” The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, but it paled in comparison to the agony in my chest. I held my burning cheek, staring in absolute disbelief at the man I had loved for seven years. Julian took a step closer, his eyes cold and mocking. “So, what are you crying about? Go apologize to Vivian right now!” I bit my tongue, my voice hoarse. “You want me to apologize to the woman who stole my fiancé and sent me photos to mock me?” “Go to hell, Julian. In your dreams!” Julian let out a cold sneer. “Don’t regret this.” By midnight, a massive scandal erupted on social media. Rumors flew that I had a wild sex life and had secretly undergone an abortion six months ago. The medical records I had signed to protect Vivian became the “indisputable proof” of my loose morals. The entire internet was screaming abuse at me. Before I could even draft a response, my door was kicked open by men in dark suits. My dad stormed in, grabbed my phone, saw my draft statement, and smashed it to pieces. “Julian was right. You won’t behave.” “Since you want to ruin our family’s reputation, you can spend some time reflecting on your actions!” I fought back frantically, my fingernails scratching deep marks into the floorboards, but I was no match for the professional bodyguards. In the end, they dragged me back to our estate in the Hamptons and locked me in a room. Fearing I would do something drastic, my dad forced me to swallow pills that left my limbs weak and useless. I stared at the framed portrait of my late mother, tears streaming down my face. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so useless.” On the eighth day of my confinement, Vivian walked in, holding a designer bridesmaid dress. “Clara, we promised each other when we were kids. Whoever got married first, the other would be the maid of honor.” “So, you’ll do this for me, right?” My instinct was to scream at her. But looking at my dad and Julian standing right behind her, I forced a fake smile. “Of course. I wish you both the best.” The wedding venue was lavish, drowning in the scent of fresh roses. It was exactly the grand wedding I had always dreamed of. My dad stood at the altar, smiling from ear to ear. He leaned in and whispered to me, “Clara, make sure you give your sister a beautiful toast later. Let’s put this whole drama behind us.” I nodded submissively. “I will. I actually prepared a very special wedding gift for her.” My dad waved his hand, dismissing me to go get it. Taking advantage of the distraction, I slipped away and climbed up to the high balcony overlooking the outdoor venue. After being betrayed by love, friendship, and family, I didn’t want to live anymore. But if I was going down, I was going to leave them a gift they would never forget. Below me, the officiant’s voice boomed through the speakers: “You may now kiss the bride.” At that exact, spotlighted moment, I whispered into the empty air. “Mom, I’m coming to see you.” I closed my eyes and jumped. Amidst the collective, blood-curdling screams of the guests, I crashed violently onto the center of the stage.

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