Chapter 3

I had barely been dragged into the Silvermoon Pack's territory when a guard kicked me onto a training ground covered in sharp gravel.

The Silvermoon Alpha stood on a high platform, his gaze as cold as ice, as if he were looking at a filthy stray.

"Since those hands enjoy throwing filth, she can use them to clear the thorns from the training grounds."

This was the obstacle course used for training young wolves, but today, it was filled with thorny black briars soaked in wolfsbane juice, which weakens werewolves.

And so, under the cold moonlight, wearing only a thin dress, I knelt on the training ground and began to pull up the hard thorns with my bare hands.

The sound of my skin tearing was sickeningly clear. Blood dripped from my fingertips, mixing with the dirt.

The young wolves watching whistled and jeered, mocking the Blackmoon Pack's weakness.

"Is this Blackmoon's idea of an apology? Sending a useless piece of trash like her?"

"What good is Ryker's arrogance? He still has to bow his head to us."

I listened to the insults, mechanically repeating the motion.

I don't know how much time passed. My hands were a mangled mess, and my vision blurred from blood loss.

My consciousness began to drift. I imagined my parents were probably raising a toast right now, celebrating how their precious Ivy had escaped this fate.

My haze was shattered when a leather-booted foot stomped down hard on the back of my hand, forcing a gasp of pain from me.

"Weren't you so arrogant when you threw that soup? Why are you acting like a half-dead dog now?"

The Silvermoon Alpha snorted coldly.

With a wave of his hand, two tall enforcers seized my shoulders and forced my head up.

A glowing red, sizzling silver brand was held before my face.

"My daughter has three scars on her face. You will receive ten in return."

This was the Sinner's Mark, used to punish grave offenders. The scars it left could not be healed, not even by an Alpha's power.

I watched the glowing metal approach and shut my eyes in despair.

A hiss of searing flesh filled my nostrils.

I let out a gut wrenching scream, struggling and clawing at the raw, bloody mess of my face.

On the other end of our mate bond, Ryker suddenly jerked, breaking out in a cold sweat.

He wondered how Harper was doing. But she was one of the pack's best Beta warriors. She would surely be back on her own in a few days.

Three days later, when I appeared before Ryker with my face covered in brands, he froze.

At first, he clearly didn't recognize me.

A full five seconds passed before the searing pain from our mate bond snapped him back to his senses.

"Harper, you..." He stepped forward, instinctively reaching to embrace me, but froze when he saw the ugly, still-weeping brand on my face.

He couldn't bring himself to look at my ruined face any longer. Instead, as if to offer some comfort, he took my hand.

"You've suffered... Don't worry, I'll make it up to you. I'll spend the rest of my life taking care of you!"

He used to be obsessed with my face, calling it the Moon Goddess's most perfect creation.

He pursued me relentlessly, showering me with expensive moonstones and wiping away my tears as I told him about the injustices at home.

He promised me a new life, one filled with happiness and affection.

Back then, his love for me was genuine. But when did things start to change?

It was probably at our bonding ceremony, the first time he saw my sister's face. It was identical to mine, yet softer, more fragile, inspiring a protective instinct.

He had fallen for me at first sight because of my looks, and he felt the same pull toward the sister who was my mirror image.

In fact, her novelty made him even more infatuated.

And now that my face was ruined, his love for me vanished along with it.

I pulled my hand free, pushed him away, and walked upstairs without a word.

I had just reached the top of the stairs when I heard him on the balcony, talking to my parents on the phone.

"It's a good thing it's just her face. She can still walk and move. If her body had been seriously injured, it would have jeopardized the upcoming trial."

Every word was a poisoned dagger, twisting in my already shredded heart.

In that moment, I suddenly felt that death might be a release.

I would finally be free from all this misery.

I pushed open my bedroom door, only to find Ivy sprawled on my bed, wearing my silk nightgown.

When she saw the hideous scars on my face, she first stared in shock, then covered her mouth and burst into laughter, doubling over until she was breathless.

Her rosy cheeks and loud laughter showed no sign of weakness.

I had long known she was faking it. I'd seen her pouring her healing potions down the drain at the wolf academy.

What's more, after my own health began to fail, the healer told me I had a congenital condition, something I'd had since the womb.

It wouldn't show symptoms, and I might even seem stronger than a normal wolf.

But once it manifested, death from spirit failure would be swift.

I had tried to tell my parents, but they never believed me. They were convinced that Ivy was the weak one.

"My dear sister, we finally don't look alike anymore."

She walked up to me barefoot and reached out, maliciously poking at the wounds on my face.

The sharp pain made me suck in a breath, but I didn't flinch away.

"The Alpha will probably have nightmares just looking at you now, won't he?"

I grabbed her wrist and said softly, "That's fine by me."

"He's all yours now."

Three days remained until the Wolf Spirit Regeneration Ritual, and three days until the end of my life.

My body would break down. My wolf spirit would disintegrate in agony. I would become a rotting corpse.

I couldn't help but be a little curious. What would their reactions be then? My parents, my Alpha.

Would they shed a single tear for me?

I doubted it.

It would be a release, to no longer be entangled with people who didn't love me.

They would probably just be disappointed that this 'guinea pig' had failed to pave the way for Ivy.

The three days passed in a blur. My parents and Ryker escorted me to the ancient witchcraft cellar.

At the cellar entrance, a damp, cold wind chilled me to the bone.

My parents were huddled around Ivy, excitedly discussing the celebration they would have after the trial's success.

"Ivy, when we know it's safe for you, Mom will take you shopping in Europe."

"We'll go enjoy a feast in a bit to celebrate early. We'll have your favorite roasted venison."

I was the one walking to my death, yet I didn't cross their minds once.

Ryker didn't say anything, but his gaze fell on me. "The test will be over soon. I'll come get you then."

There was no warmth in his tone. He had spoken to me like this for a long time, but at the end of my life, my heart still gave an uncontrollable pang of pain.

So, I couldn't stop myself from turning back to ask them, "If I go in and never come out… will you miss me?"

Chapter 4

Hearing my question, my parents finally tore their gazes away from Ivy, a flicker of embarrassment on their faces.

My mother frowned, waving a dismissive hand. "Harper, don't be so morbid. You're just testing the safety of a regeneration ritual. This isn't some tragic farewell!"

My father snorted. "Are you trying to back out now? The agreement is signed. You'd better get in there. We'll come get you once the ritual is proven successful."

But Ryker's tone suddenly softened. He stepped forward and took my hand. "Stop making a scene, Harper."

"When the experiment is over, I'll take you to pick out the newest jewelry. You've always wanted that blue diamond necklace, haven't you?"

I looked at him, then at my parents' expectant faces.

Finally, I sighed and slowly pulled my hand from his.

"I don't want the necklace anymore," I said softly. "I don't want anything."

With that, I turned and walked into the dark, damp cellar, and I didn't look back.

The so-called "Wolf Spirit Regeneration Ritual" was nothing but pure torture.

The old witch, Morwen, gave me nothing for the pain.

She chanted her spells, forcing a violent surge of spiritual energy into my body.

My veins burned as if filled with lava, my skin crawling as if devoured by a million fire ants.

This inhuman torment lasted for eighteen long days.

In all that time, not a single person came to see me.

Perhaps they were celebrating with champagne. Perhaps Ryker was taking Ivy to gaze at the stars under the moonlight.

I didn't know.

All I knew was the feeling of my already-fading wolf letting out one final, mournful cry.

And then, it was gone.

As my wolf spirit disintegrated, my heart began to flutter violently before it finally fell still.

I was free.

When Morwen came in to begin the next phase of the ritual, she assumed I had merely fainted from the pain.

She prodded my arm impatiently with her wand. "Get up. Stop playing dead. Today is the final step."

She was met with a deathly silence.

Morwen froze. She reached out to check for my breath, then her face went pale and she stumbled backward.

After a long moment, she dialed the emergency number they had left her, her hand trembling.

"Madam... something has happened... Harper... she's dead!"

The other end of the line was silent for a few seconds.

Then, my mother scoffed. "Are you trying to squeeze more money out of us, witch? Don't play games with me."

Morwen stared at the bruised, stiff corpse on the operating table, her voice trembling. "I'm not joking! Her wolf spirit is gone, and her heart has stopped! She's really dead!"

On the other end, Ryker snatched the phone.

Just moments before, he must have felt the heart-shattering agony of our mate bond breaking.

But he was certain I was just throwing a tantrum.

"Put Harper on the phone."

"Tell her to stop with the cheap tricks, playing dead for sympathy! And she can forget about scaring me by faking a broken bond!"

"Tell her to cooperate with the ritual."

Beep.

The call was disconnected.

Morwen stood there, phone in hand, her face a mask of disbelief.

She tried calling my father's and mother's numbers again, refusing to give up, but every call was immediately disconnected.

Finally, she spat in fury. "A whole family of lunatics."

Since her clients didn't care, she didn't want to get into any trouble.

In the end, Morwen dragged my body to a storage room in the deepest part of the cellar.

It was filled with moldy junk and rat droppings.

She carelessly threw a ragged cloth over my face, locked the door, and left.

And no one knew that this so-called Wolf Spirit Regeneration Ritual was just a scheme orchestrated by Ivy.

All to maintain her frail persona, to keep our parents' love, and to claim the position of the pack's Luna.

My soul floated out of my body, a silent observer as my own broken form was discarded in the darkness like a piece of trash.

Before long, a few large rats, drawn by the scent of blood, climbed onto the stone slab and crawled under the cloth.

Even as a soul, I recoiled at the sight.

Worthless in life, in death my body was left to be devoured by vermin.

My entire life had been a joke.

But I couldn't leave.

My soul was bound to this body by some unseen force, forced to watch day after day as it rotted away.

It wasn't until seven days later that a familiar voice finally echoed from outside the door.

"Morwen, was the trial a success? Is it safe for Ivy now?"

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