I bought my mother's favorite white lilies, preparing to visit her grave one last time. I was dying, and I needed to tell her I wouldn't be coming anymore.

But before that, I went to Silvercrown Tower to retrieve something.

Before my mother passed away, she had visited a Moon Singer and commissioned two carved obsidian wolf totems. They were soul anchors. One was engraved with Silas's birth rune, and the other with mine.

They were meant to protect us, ensuring our souls would always be able to find each other.

Silas refused to take the one with his rune, and instead took mine. He said the little wolf figurine looked exactly like me—stubborn and a little clumsy. He kept it on the massive oak desk in his office.

I was terrified that after I died, Silas would throw it away like garbage. It was a gift from my mother. I had to take it back and have it buried with me.

When I walked into his office, Silas was watching the video of my nosebleed from that morning. Seeing me, he tossed his phone aside, his expression unreadable. He didn't ask how I was feeling.

I glanced at his desk. The spot where my obsidian totem usually sat was empty.

I frowned. "Where is my totem?"

Chloe hurried into the office right behind me. Hearing my question, she smiled brightly.

"Oh, I cut my hand the other day, and Silas was so upset! He said he couldn't bear to see me hurt, so he gave me that little carved wolf to comfort me. He said it was clumsy and cute, just like me."

My hands began to shake. I glared at Silas, my lungs feeling like they were on fire. "What gave you the right to give my things away?! My mother gave that to me! How could you give it to her?!"

A cold smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he leaned back in his chair like a cruel tyrant. "That cheap little trinket was yours? My mistake, I thought it was just a worthless ornament..."

Before he could finish, I grabbed a heavy crystal ashtray off his desk and hurled it at his face.

Silas didn't dodge. The crystal struck his forehead, splitting the skin. A drop of blood rolled down his brow.

Chloe screamed, "Are you crazy?! Attacking the Alpha over a piece of junk wood!"

She ran to her desk and marched back, tightly gripping my obsidian wolf totem. She viciously threw it onto the marble floor at my feet. "Take your trash back! Did you think I'd actually care about something no one even wants?"

The obsidian shattered into jagged, irreparable pieces.

I stared at the shards. My birth rune, my mother's blessing... all broken.

Just like my life. Beyond saving.

A sudden, overwhelming wave of grief crashed over me. I really was going to die.

But I didn't want to die so soon. I was terrified that without an anchor, my mother wouldn't be able to find my soul in the afterlife.

Something inside me snapped. I lunged forward and slapped Chloe so hard the sound echoed off the glass walls. "That was my mom's! My mom's!"

I screamed like a madwoman, tears pouring down my face. I reached out to grab Chloe again, but Silas's massive hand caught my wrist mid-air.

Tears blurred my vision.

I looked up at him, crying and laughing at the same time. "You know I'm dying... You know I'm dying, and you still bully me. Silas, you are a monster."

His thumb brushed my cheek, wiping away a tear, but his eyes remained cold. "First the cake, and now you're dying? Is playing games with me really that fun, Aria? Save your tears. I'm done pitying you."

He couldn't finish his sentence.

A thick drop of black blood dripped from my nose and splattered onto the back of his hand.

Then another. And another. A horrifying stream of blood gushed out, soaking my chin and dripping onto his pristine white shirt.

My legs gave out, my chest feeling hollow as a blinding agony erupted like a volcano.

I collapsed.

Silas caught me before I hit the floor. For the first time, his calm facade completely crumbled, replaced by naked panic.

"Healer! Get the medics! NOW!" he roared, his Alpha voice rattling the glass windows of the entire building.

But he was powerless to do anything but watch as my blood soaked through his clothes, dark and endless.

In the darkness of my coma, I heard Silas crying.

"Why won't it stop? Goddess, please make it stop..." His voice choked. "Aria, please, don't scare me like this."

I smelled the antiseptic scent of the pack clinic, mixed with the faint odor of wolfsbane.

I heard the senior healer speaking to Silas. "Alpha... she could have made it to spring. If she had kept taking the Fae elixir, she might have lived even longer. But she stopped. She said she couldn't afford it anymore."

"Her internal organs are failing. Without her wolf core, her human body can no longer sustain her life. There is nothing more we can do."

Silas's voice trembled with a lethal edge as he asked lowly, "Are you telling me my mate is dying?"

Before the healer could answer, Silas erupted. "I want my mate alive! You cure her whatever the cost, or I will slaughter every healer in this territory!"

That day, Silas nearly tore the clinic apart.

He airlifted in human specialists, witch doctors, and top healers from neighboring packs. He swore that no matter the price, he would save my life.

But a missing wolf core couldn't be replaced by money or power.

Driven by a manic denial, Silas tried to force my discharge, wanting to take me to the Fae Realm to seek a miracle cure. No one in the hospital dared to stop the enraged Alpha.

Until my best friend, Layla, kicked the doors open.

She slammed a legally binding scroll against Silas's chest. "That's her living will, notarized by the High Council."

I had made my wishes clear a long time ago. If I ended up in a vegetative state, unable to move or eat, they were to let me go. Layla knew how much I despised that kind of suffering.

Layla slapped Silas with all her werewolf strength. He didn't even flinch.

"You have all the wealth in the world, where the fuck were you?!" Layla screamed, pointing in his face. "Playing the devoted mate now?! It's too late, Alpha! She's dying!"

Silas stared blankly at the parchment in her hand, unable to move.

After a long, suffocating silence, he fell to his knees.

"Layla," he begged, his voice cracking. "Let me take her. Please. She can survive. She won't die. If she dies... what am I supposed to do?"

Layla looked down at him, her eyes cold and merciless. "A cold-blooded bastard like you will live just fine without her. Stop pretending to care, it makes me sick."

She pushed past him, sat by my bed, and held my freezing hand. The moment she spoke, she broke down in tears.

"Do you really just want to give up?" she whispered.

Her tears sent a sharp pang through my chest. I wanted to lift my hand and wipe them away. I wanted to tell her not to cry for me. I just wanted to sleep—a long, dreamless sleep, until the end of time, feeling no more pain.

"Can you just wake up one more time?" Layla pleaded, pressing my cold hand to her tear-stained cheek. "You always said we have to say goodbye properly, so there are no regrets."

"You haven't said goodbye to your mom, or to me... How can you be so cruel?"

A single tear slipped from my closed eyelids.

The heart rate monitor suddenly spiked. Healers rushed in, urging Layla to keep talking to me. My soul was fighting against the Goddess's call.

That day, Layla held my hand tightly all day, terrified to even get up for water. She talked to me for hours—laughing through her sobs, scolding me, and then crying all over again.

I had been ready to die. But Layla made it impossible for me to accept it. Leaving her like that filled me with overwhelming guilt.

I waged a brutal war against my decaying body.

Until midnight, when my heavy eyelids finally fluttered open.