"Ava hasn't been assigned a mate yet and can contribute to the family alliance," my brother urged gently. "Ava, have you decided who to choose?"

I pressed hard on my throbbing temples; the malicious roars of that rogue seemed to still echo in my ears.

How could I have imagined that something like rebirth would happen to me?

"Ava must choose our Michael!" Michael's mother suddenly squeezed her way in front of me, her face wearing a calculating smile.

She held the family ring out to me, winking, "They've known each other since they were pups! What bond could compare to theirs?"

Whoever married me would at least become the pack's Gamma – of course she wanted to secure that for her son.

But Michael merely rolled his eyes in disdain, sneering with disgust, "Mother, are you joking? Her? Her combat skills are weak as a kitten, she's not gentle or considerate, and her looks are utterly plain. Marrying her would ruin all the excellent genes the Davises has worked so hard to accumulate!"

Michael's look of disgust was identical to the previous life.

Yet, in that past life, I simply thought it was his habit of bickering with me since childhood and hadn't realized his genuine aversion at that moment.

Snapping back to reality, I immediately took two steps back. "Mrs. Davis, Michael and I are just friends."

Instantly, the entire banquet hall fell eerily silent.

Everyone present knew the century-long friendship between the Molsons and the Davises, and they knew even better how deeply I had harbored an unrequited love for Michael all these years.

"Enough! You insolent brat, what nonsense are you spouting!" Mrs. Davis flushed crimson with anger, shoving Michael hard. "Marrying Ava would be like our family saving the entire universe in a past life!"

Michael seemed unprepared for my words. His icy expression instantly darkened several shades.

Trembling, I turned to my brother for help: "I'm not feeling well, I want to go home. The alliance marriage isn't urgent."

Griffin had just raised his hand to call someone to escort me back when Michael grabbed my hand and pulled me outside.

He said coldly, "Alpha, I'll take Ava home."

The moment we stepped out of the banquet hall doors, Michael callously flung my hand away.

Off-balance, I stumbled backward. Panicking, I instinctively grabbed his sleeve, but the instant I touched it, I recoiled as if burned.

Then, I landed hard on my backside. Pain shot from my tailbone through my whole body, and my vision blurred.

Michael's expression shifted, and he moved forward to help me up.

"Don't touch me! Stay away!" I screamed hysterically, shoving his hand away with all my strength.

Trembling, I yanked off my high heels and stood up barefoot.

I looked at the shoes in my hand – a gift from him for my coming-of-age ceremony. Mrs. Davis had excitedly told me back then that he'd searched every top shoe store in the entire pack to find them.

But now, looking back, those shoes had always been half a size too big. They never truly fit me.

"Hmph, what game are you playing now?" Michael's lips curled into a mocking smile, his eyes filled with contempt. "Playing hard to get? Ava, when did you become so disgusting?"

I lifted my head, tears uncontrollably welling in my eyes, my voice choked: "Michael, you're right. I was so foolish before."

Trembling, I hurled the high heels at his feet. The sharp clack of the heels hitting the ground echoed. I walked away barefoot without looking back, letting tears stream freely down my face.

These shoes... I'd worn them for so long. I should have realized long ago they were never the right fit!

As I walked away barefoot, no footsteps followed me.

Michael surely thought this was just another one of my cheap tricks. After all, in his eyes, I was nothing but a clown desperate to cling to him. Back home, I sank into the bathtub, drowsy.

Images from my past life flashed through my mind like slides: the wolfbane miasma filling the Davis mansion, Michael carrying Abbie out, the searing pain as my skin burned away.

By the time I was rescued, my skin was corroded, my face disfigured beyond recognition.

Afterward, Michael explained,

"I didn't see you. Abbie's legs were pinned down, the miasma was so toxic... I had to save her first."

Water flooded my nose. I choked violently before fully waking and scrambling out. Wrapping myself in a robe, I looked at my reflection in the mirror.

My fingertips traced my smooth cheeks – no hideous scars, no disfigurement. Everything could still be changed.

"How could I have been so stupid?" I sneered at my reflection. "'Didn't see you'? Who would believe that!"

I slapped my own face hard. The sting on my skin was nothing compared to the hatred in my heart.

Perhaps because of the rebirth, I was dreaming about past lives all night long.​

When I woke in the morning, I felt utterly exhausted and unwell.

Maybe sensing something was wrong last night, "Morning, little pumpkin," Griffin called my nickname, his worried eyes peeking over the top of this newspaper. "Come eat something. You look worse than a ghost."

A lump formed in my throat. I suddenly threw myself into his arms.

Griffin stiffened for a moment, then tossed the newspaper aside and patted my back gently. "Hey, what's wrong? Upset about last night? If that man made you suffer, I'll go settle it with him right now!"

"Silly girl, as long as you're happy, what does it matter about the Davis family's friendship? I'll take care of you for life if I have to. Who dares gossip?"

I sniffled, my voice thick with tears.

In truth, our family didn't need an alliance marriage. Griffin had arranged it because he saw my feelings for Michael.

Remembering Griffin dying to save me in the previous life, the pain in my chest intensified, and I held him tighter and tighter,

Until a soft cough drew my attention. I turned, my eyes red, and spotted a man sitting in the corner.

The morning light outlined his sharp profile. He smiled, lips curving. "Morning, little pumpkin."

I froze for a second, then quickly disentangled myself from my brother's embrace. I recognized him: Charles, our pack's Beta.

Back when Griffin died, Charles sought revenge for him, hunting relentlessly for the killer.

The last time I saw him, he said he wanted to take me away. He said Griffin's death wasn't simple; it might be linked to someone in the Davis family.

I was blind then, always believing my mate wouldn't harm my family.

By the time I started believing Charles, I was already dead at the hands of the rogues.

Suddenly, I also realized that the last sound I heard before dying might have been Charles desperately calling my name...

"What are you doing here?" The words burst out, laced with surprise.

Charles merely raised an eyebrow, a faint, enigmatic smile playing on his lips, offering no answer.

"Ahem." Griffin's cough broke the silence. He pushed a bowl of oatmeal towards me. "Eat first, or your stomach will hurt again."

I sat down obediently, stirring the oatmeal absently. My gaze kept drifting towards the intensely present figure behind me.

"Ava," Griffin spoke suddenly, his phone screen lighting up. "Did you see Michael's post this morning?"

It was a Halloween pumpkin photo, the caption seemingly pointed: "Made her angry, how to make it up?"

In my past life, I'd foolishly smiled over that post all night, naively believing the 'her' referred to me.

It was only later I understood that the 'her' who needed appeasing was always his first love, Abbie. It had nothing to do with me.

"Griffin," my voice was so low and trembling it was almost inaudible, "I don't want to talk about Michael anymore."

In this life, those twenty years of self-delusion were finally over.

Griffin was silent, his fingers scrolling through his chat history with Michael.

I saw it clearly: beside the countless messages he'd sent asking about my whereabouts, any mention of me was met with a chilling "Read."

The next second, my brother's long finger hovered over Michael's profile picture. He paused for a fraction of a second over the "Delete" button, then pressed it without hesitation.

"I'm here," he looked up, his smile warm and firm. "No one gets to make you suffer."

Tears instantly blurred my vision. My brother was always like this, standing unconditionally by my side.

After breakfast, Griffin took me to the Council Hall.

Griffin had previously intended for me to take charge of Michael's First Unit.

But I had been solely focused on Michael, wanting only to stay home and take care of him. I never went to the training grounds, leaving everything entirely to Michael.

In my past life, Michael, relying on his marriage to the Alpha's sister while he himself was uninterested in managing things, let the unit deteriorate. Problems arose frequently, and ultimately, it was Griffin who had to step in and clean up the mess.

Inside the training ground, several warriors clearly remembered my obsession with Michael.

One of them, eyes darting nervously, sidled closer, clutching a stack of Michael's training records, trying to slip them to me unnoticed.

Whap!

A hand with distinct knuckles was faster than mine, snatching the papers away.

I looked up, meeting Charles's icy gaze. Without a glance at the papers, he crumpled them into a ball and tossed them accurately into a corner trash bin.

"Listen up," Griffin's voice, though not loud, carried undeniable authority that echoed across the training field. "From now on, nothing concerning Michael is to be brought to my sister. Not even a single strand of his hair."

Inside the office, Griffin instructed his assistant directly: "Notify them. Michael is immediately transferred to the Third Unit at the border. Also—"

"Griffin," I interrupted him, "won't that...? There are still business dealings with the Davis family..."

Family connections were complex; I didn't want him making enemies for my sake.

Griffin saw through my worry and chuckled, shaking his head. "I told you, I won't let you suffer." He raised a hand to the assistant. "Do it."

My brother had an impromptu meeting, leaving the large office suddenly empty except for Charles and me.

We hadn't interacted much. The only thing I'd heard was that he harbored an unrequited love for someone, who apparently belonged to another.

Under the weight of his deep gaze, I felt intensely uncomfortable and instinctively turned my face away.

Just then, my phone rang sharply from my bag.

Pulling it out and seeing the screen, I froze for a second, then pressed the reject button without hesitation.

"Not answering?" Charles's voice held a note of playful curiosity. He had moved closer without me noticing.

"Telemarketer," I replied coldly.

The screen lit up again almost immediately. A text message appeared: "I'm sick. Bring me medicine."

An address followed the text. I stared at the screen, brow furrowed.

"Well, well, who's inviting our little pumpkin?" Charles's voice was suddenly very close to my ear, tinged with mockery.

I jolted, nearly jumping. I was hypersensitive to scents; even my mate's approach would register instantly. But this time, Charles had gotten close without my noticing.

He seemed slightly surprised he'd startled me, patting my back lightly to soothe me, but couldn't resist teasing: "Tsk, so jumpy? But this address... looks awfully familiar. Like the private property of the Davis family's young master?"

The house number – 0726 – of the villa Michael had bought outside the Davis mansion.

I had never thought deeply about it before, but now it struck me: 0726... that was Abbie's birthday.

Charles noticed my reaction. The playful smile vanished from his face. "What's wrong? Did that man really bully you?" His expression turned serious. "I might not have many talents, but I'm good at settling scores. Want me to go 'visit' him for you?"

"No need," my voice was unnervingly calm.

My fingers flew over the screen: Block. Delete Michael's contact. The movements were swift and decisive.

I lifted my head, meeting his probing gaze. "It's not worth causing trouble over someone who no longer matters."

Charles's eyes, which seemed naturally hooked, locked onto me intently, making the tips of my ears feel warm.

Griffin returned from his meeting around noon. Charles stretched lazily and suggested, "How about dessert? I suddenly have a craving."

I looked at him, surprised.

Whenever I felt down, I always craved sweets, as if stuffing myself could push away the troubles.

Griffin, oblivious, saw me nod and immediately had his assistant book a table.

Arriving at the familiar dessert shop, a wave of nostalgia washed over me.

In my past life, during my pregnancy, Michael's words, "Eating too much sugar will harm the baby's development," had become a shackle. I hadn't touched a single sweet for nine whole months.

Screw you, Michael!

As soon as we sat down, I told the shop owner, "Bring me one of everything on the menu! The sweetest ones!"

My voice held an unfamiliar urgency.

The shop owner visibly froze for a moment.

Then I remembered Griffin mentioning Charles didn't like sweets and quickly added, "Um... and a few of the less sweet ones too."

The private room was quiet. I abandoned all ladylike pretenses and dug in. Griffin shot me a questioning look, silently asking Charles what was going on.

Charles just shrugged, leisurely eating the only unsweetened salad on the table.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted outside, shattering the room's peace. I always hated noise and frowned in displeasure.

Seeing this, Charles raised his hand directly to summon the shop owner. "We're taking over the place today. Guests already eating can finish, but no new customers. It's too noisy."

The shop owner looked troubled. "Beta, but... it's young master from the Davis family. He brought people."

My hand, holding the dessert spoon, froze.

Before we could respond, a familiar, grating voice, thick with unwelcome intimacy, pierced through the door: Michael didn't wait for permission. He pushed the door open and beckoned behind him.

Abbie, dressed in an elegant gown, followed him in with a tinkling laugh. "Sorry to disturb!"

Michael pulled out a chair and sat down, facing Charles and my brother's icy stares. He smiled as he explained, "Suddenly craved something sweet. This is Abbie, my new assistant. We're old friends, actually. Thought we could all chat."

They settled in as if they belonged. Michael quickly got to the point:

"Abbie is exceptionally talented, with great management skills. She just lacks opportunities."

"Oh, Ava, I heard the Alpha put you in charge of the First Unit. With your abilities, you won't manage it well."

"Hand the unit over to Abbie and me. We'll take care of it for you..."

"I refuse." My voice was like ice.

Hearing my rejection, Abbie immediately stiffened, her eyes welling up as she looked pleadingly at Michael.

Michael's smile vanished instantly. As if Griffin wasn't even there, he issued me a warning: "Ava, if you keep throwing tantrums like this, don't expect me to ever speak to you again!"

The entire room plunged into dead silence. Even the shop owner nervously wiping sweat held his breath.

Griffin's face darkened. He was about to speak when I grabbed his wrist.

I looked straight at Michael, my voice clear and freezing cold. "That suits me perfectly. Michael, from yesterday—no, from this very moment—we go our separate ways. Whether you live or die has nothing to do with me anymore."

Michael froze completely, seemingly utterly unprepared for my words.

His gaze swept over Charles, lounging casually beside me.

There had always been rumors that Griffin wanted me to marry his Beta.

To avoid Michael misunderstanding, I had never appeared in public with Charles before.

Now, seeing me sitting with Charles, he seemed to instantly 'understand,' a look of vicious sarcasm spreading across his face:

"Hah! So that's why the sudden cold shoulder? Already found your replacement?"

He raked his eyes over me and Charles with open malice. "Ava, you're truly cheap. Yesterday you were still professing your love for me, and today you can't wait to hook up with someone else?"