I followed Cruz Ellis back to the derelict cabin where he had been living.

The cabin was a crumbling structure, once a safe house for the pack. It had been abandoned for years, its roof caved in, its walls bare, and the cold wind whistling through the gaps, making me shiver uncontrollably.

Inside, Cruz quickly gathered some dry wood and lit a fire to warm me up. He then reached behind a broken shelf and pulled out a chicken leg, wiped it clean, and handed it to me.

But my heart was heavy, filled with regret that I hadn’t ended my life earlier.

Was this how Tallulah Ellis was going to live the rest of her life?

I was Tallulah Ellis, the eldest daughter of Beta Jerry Anderson from the Silver Moon Pack. Just this morning, I had shattered a crystal vase that could have bought a small house.

That night, I cried until I fell into a fitful sleep. When I woke, the cabin was still the same, and Cruz, with his scarred face and damaged aura, was still by my side.

I refused to mark him as my mate, and he didn’t dare bring it up.

For half a month, we lived in silence, keeping our distance from each other. During those days, I cried and raged, blaming the Moon Goddess, fate, and myself.

No matter how much I lashed out, Cruz never said a word. Only when my sobs became unbearable would he lower his head and mutter a quiet, “I’m sorry.”

Every morning, before dawn, he would leave to hunt in the woods. By evening, he would return with a few scraps of food, enough to keep us alive. On good days, he might bring back a small animal.

After two weeks, I finally exhausted my tears. I decided to pull myself together, drawing on the dignity of a Beta’s daughter to face this new reality.

“Mate, how old are you this year?”

That day, when Cruz returned home from pack training, he found me standing with a stern face, glaring at him coldly.

“How old?” Cruz paused, like a distracted student suddenly called out by a teacher. He quickly lowered his head and counted on his fingers. “I’m twenty.”

“The prime of youth, full of ambition and vigor,” I said, mimicking the tone of a Luna, speaking with measured seriousness. “Mate, don’t you want to learn a skill while you’re young? Rogue hunting might keep us alive, but it’s barely enough to survive. And it’s… undignified.”

“Why not learn a trade? Tracking, combat training—it might not bring in much, but with careful planning, we could save enough. With some capital, we could establish a territory. If we’re lucky and make a big profit, we could build a den, maybe even… expand our pack. What do you think?”

I pondered.

Mabel’s truth-speaking power was cruel, no doubt. But her words—“You’ll be childless, yet surrounded by pack members”—made me think. Even if I couldn’t have pups of my own, any children born to Cruz’s chosen mates would still be part of my pack. Didn’t that mean Cruz would rise to greatness, with mates and offspring to show for it?

But my earnest advice fell on deaf ears.

“I started with nothing, just a rogue hunter,” Cruz said, shrugging. “And that’s not something I can change overnight.”

“As for the rest… we’ll take it one step at a time.”