My only friend was a time traveler. She said her mission in this world was to save me.

She trusted me, protected me, and even helped my mate ascend to the throne of the Lycan King.

In the end, she found a man who loved her deeply.

She said this world made her feel warm, and she wanted to stay here.

But later, when I rushed back from the borderlands,

all I saw was her pale, frail body lying alone in the crystal coffin, cold as ice.

Beside the coffin, her mate stood frozen, silent.

Her young son whispered in relief, "Good, I never wanted a crazy mother like her."

I looked at the woman standing beside them, pretending to wipe away tears.

I thought to myself, I didn’t need to pretend anymore.

After today, they would learn what true madness looked like.

==============================

When Malia Hughes slit her wrist, she didn’t hesitate for a moment.

The healer who examined her wounds said the cuts were so deep that only someone with a true will to die could have inflicted them.

Especially for someone like Malia, who was usually so afraid of pain.

She would come to me with tears in her eyes over the smallest scrape, just to trick me into giving her my favorite honey cakes.

Now, as I looked at Malia lying in the crystal coffin, her face pale but otherwise untouched, I felt a cold fury settle in my chest.

Her mate, Shawn Price, stood beside the coffin, a delicate girl in pink at his side, holding the hand of a young boy who bore a striking resemblance to Malia.

I took in the scene, finally understanding why Malia had chosen to leave this world.

The girl stepped forward and gave a graceful bow.

"Your Majesty, the Luna, blessings upon you."

I stared at her, my expression icy, and made no move to acknowledge her greeting. Instead, I focused on her slightly bent knees.

Behind me, a guard stepped forward and kicked the back of her knees. The sound of her hitting the floor was sharp and satisfying.

My expression softened slightly.

"Tess!"

Two voices cried out in shock. Rhys Price moved to help her up but hesitated when he saw my cold gaze. Shawn, meanwhile, seemed lost, his eyes fixed on the coffin as if the world around him had ceased to exist.

But Elizabeth Warren said nothing, bowing her head even lower.

"Your Majesty, Luna of the Silver Crescent Pack, forgive my ignorance. I meant no disrespect."

I narrowed my eyes. Elizabeth was clever.

She knew I was in no mood for anyone’s excuses, especially not from Shawn or his son. Bowing her head and admitting her fault was her way of trying to disarm me.

Malia would never have been able to handle her.

I stepped forward, the shimmering fabric of my dress brushing against her as I took a seat that was quickly brought for me.

I reached for Elizabeth’s wrist, where a silver bracelet rested.

The bracelet itself wasn’t particularly valuable, but I knew it was the prize Rhys had won at the pack’s school. He had declared in front of everyone that he would win it for his mother.

I had instructed the teacher to give it to Rhys.

But now, it was on Elizabeth’s wrist.

I grabbed the bracelet and yanked it off her wrist with no regard for her pain.

"My hand slipped. Forgive me."

Two red marks immediately appeared on her pale skin, stark and ugly.

"I would never dare to blame Your Majesty," Elizabeth said, her voice trembling.

Her lips were pressed tightly together, her expression pitiful, just like her name. Malia had always fallen for such acts.

Whenever she was mad at me, all I had to do was put on this expression, and she would soften, her anger melting into a smile. Then, I could coax anything I wanted from her.

But Elizabeth Warren was nothing.

I reached up and touched her ear, where a pair of large pearl earrings hung.

They were the gift I had given Malia on her marking ceremony.

I ripped them off without hesitation, blood immediately streaming down Elizabeth’s ear. Rhys could no longer hold back and knelt beside her.

"The pearls were a gift from Tess. My mother approved of it. Please, Your Majesty, don’t blame Tess!"

I played with the blood-stained pearls, my expression indifferent.

"And what if I choose to blame her anyway?"

Without Malia, Rhys was nothing more than flesh and bone to me.

I rarely spoke to him in such a cold tone, and he reached out to tug at my dress, trying to win me over as he always had.

My eyes flashed, and a guard stepped forward, his claws aimed at Rhys’s arm.

"What lowly creature dares to touch the Luna!"

I ignored Rhys’s pale, terrified face and waved for Malia’s coffin to be taken away. Shawn suddenly seemed to awaken, baring his claws and blocking the path.

"I won’t let anyone take Malia away!"

Shawn was, after all, the Beta of the pack, and his close ties to Rayan Carr made the guards hesitate to act against him.

But it didn’t matter. I would do it myself.

I lunged at Shawn with my claws, not a moment of hesitation in my movements. Just as my claws touched his body, something heavy struck the back of my neck, and everything went black.

It was Rayan Carr who gave the order.

Though the pack members dared not say it outright, there was only one person in the entire pack who would dare move against me—Rayan Carr.

He didn’t have the courage to face me himself, instead sending a Beta with a pack decree, posthumously honoring Malia Hughes as the Luna of the Silver Crescent Pack.

I shredded the decree with my claws, the golden necklace Rayan had once gifted me glinting in the dim light. The pack members knelt in silence, the grand hall of the Silver Crescent Pack’s headquarters eerily quiet until Rayan finally arrived.

“Giselle, Malia is gone. If you’re not satisfied, I can grant her an even more honorable title.”

“What if I kill Elizabeth Warren and then posthumously name her Luna? How would that sit with you?”

Rayan remained silent.

“I want them to pay with their lives.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Fine.”

My response came too quickly, catching Rayan off guard. He looked up sharply, his piercing gaze locking onto mine.

“What did you say?”

“I said, ‘Fine.’”

I would do it my way.

I forbade anyone from setting up a memorial for Malia. None of them deserved to mourn her. Then, I sent my warriors to reclaim everything that belonged to Malia.

Shawn Price stood in my way, claws unsheathed, refusing to let us pass.

Elizabeth Warren knelt to the side, her teeth clenched tightly over her lower lip, not daring to speak a word.

With a mere flick of my hand, my warriors flooded the room, pinning Shawn to the ground, his knees slamming hard against the polished floor.

Years ago, when he had begged for Malia’s hand, he had knelt before me just like this.

He and Malia had been caught in secret meetings, and to protect Malia’s reputation, I had forbidden them from seeing each other. Shawn had knelt in front of the entire pack, begging me to allow their mate bond.

If I didn’t give my approval, no matter how close he was to Rayan, he would never have been granted the marking ceremony.

Back then, I had asked Malia,

“If you mark him, you can’t go back.”

Malia’s cheeks had flushed pink.

“Giselle, he promised he would only ever have me. I want to try.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

“Then I’ll accept it.”

Malia might have seemed gentle, but she was clever and stubborn—a lesson I had learned firsthand.

Her decision to choose Shawn had been as firm as her resolve to leave when the time came.

As children, she had always taught me, “The greatest victory is to conquer without fighting.”

I was only eight years old when my half-sister stole the heirloom my mother had left me—a luxurious fur coat. I went to my father, the Alpha of the Silver Crescent Pack, to complain. He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "The coat was ruined by a rogue’s claws. I’ll buy you a new one." Later, as I passed by my half-sister’s quarters, I saw her flaunting the coat, boasting about its exquisite craftsmanship and the precious gems adorning it. The other pack members oohed and aahed, their admiration fueling her arrogance.

In a cold fury, I shifted my claws and tore the coat to shreds, right off her back. When my father arrived, she was pinned beneath me, too stunned to cry, until she saw him and screamed for help. I held my bloodied claws, my gaze steady as I looked at him. "The rogue ruined my coat, Father. Don’t forget to buy me a new one." My calm demeanor unnerved him so much that he forgot to scold me. I walked away, the crowd parting silently before me.

The next day, an identical coat was delivered to my quarters. I heard my half-sister’s mother had spent all her savings to treat her wounds. After that, my half-sister never dared to come near my part of the packhouse again. Rumors spread through the pack—tales of my ruthlessness, how I prowled the streets at night, seeking revenge. It was around this time that Malia Hughes appeared in my life.

Malia, the daughter of the Beta, pushed me into the lake during a pack gathering. I clawed my way out, grabbed her, and threw her back in. She nearly drowned. Her father went to the Lycan King, demanding that my father punish me severely. The King summoned me, and when he asked for witnesses, no one came forward to defend me—except Malia. "It was Malia who provoked Giselle first," she said firmly. "If there’s to be punishment, it should be fair." The King, after hearing the full story, didn’t punish me. Instead, he ordered Malia’s father to discipline his own daughter.

Before Malia, my philosophy had been simple: hurt those who hurt me. But she taught me something different. "Don’t sacrifice yourself to punish others," she said. "It’s not worth it. Make them suffer without giving them a reason to blame you." I warned her to stay away from me. "I’m toxic," I said. Malia just smiled. "That’s fine. I’ve got an antidote."

From then on, whenever I got into trouble, Malia was there to clean up the mess. The pack stopped calling me a monster and instead pitied me as a motherless girl tormented by her stepfamily. I asked Malia once why she helped me. She shrugged and said, "With your reputation and lineage, you might end up as the Luna someday. I’m just securing my future by sticking with you." I didn’t believe her—not until the day of my Come of Age Ceremony, when my mate bond with the future Lycan King, Rayan Carr, was formally recognized. That’s when Malia told me the truth.

She confessed that she was from another world, sent here to save me. Without her intervention, she said, I would have destroyed the entire kingdom. But now, with my life on the right path, she was ready to leave. "When this body dies, I’ll return to my world," she explained. "I love it there. You can’t keep me here." I was glad, for her sake, that she could go back. I didn’t try to stop her.

But it was Shawn Price who made her stay. At the time, I was happy about it. I didn’t know then that Elizabeth Warren would come into our lives and change everything.