I was dying.

People have premonitions when death is near.

When Lina pushed my wheelchair to the seaside, I knew this was the end.

A month ago, I was poisoned by wolfsbane. The witch doctor told me my time was short.

I didn't want to die in that cold house. Lina packed our bags without a word and left the Vaelgorr Pack with me. We traveled aimlessly until we reached this coastline.

In recent days, the pain gnawed at my nerves. The painkillers from the witch doctor had long since lost their effect. My skin had taken on an unhealthy grey pallor; even the thickest foundation couldn't hide the dark circles under my eyes.

My legs had completely lost sensation; I could only curl up in the wheelchair, letting Lina push me along.

I knew I would die.

"Don't say that!" Lina suddenly crouched down, grabbing my withered hand, her eyes red-rimmed. "You're still so young! We can find other witch doctors—"

I shook my head weakly. "It's no use, Lina. I can't hold on anymore... Tell Chris to be gentle when he dissects me. You know how afraid of pain I am."

Chris was Lina's mate, a sorcerer skilled in memory extraction magic.

The Alpha had assigned him to study the brains of fallen werewolves, attempting to mine battlefield intelligence from the memories of the dead.

But this technique required a large number of experimental subjects, and werewolves willing to donate their bodies were scarce—after all, who didn't have secrets they wanted to take to the grave?

The day I was diagnosed with wolfsbane poisoning, I signed a donation agreement with Chris. This was the only way I could repay him and his wife.

Lina's tears fell onto the back of my hand. I wanted to wipe them away, to tell her that death was a release for me.

But my arms felt heavy as lead.

My eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and finally, darkness swallowed my vision.

I had thought death would either be eternal nothingness or the legendary cycle of reincarnation.

But I never imagined my soul would neither dissipate nor ascend to heaven. Instead, it drifted eerily to my father's side.

He was in the pack's tailor shop, accompanying Jasmine and Colin as they tried on wedding attire.

Through the shop window's reflection, I saw Jasmine twirling in a pearl-studded wedding dress, Father and Colin standing beside her like two loyal knights.

Jasmine was my stepsister, the daughter of the pack's former Beta—that Beta had died saving my father, a Gamma. So, Father poured all his guilt into compensating her.

Since childhood, right or wrong, she was always justified.

After she developed depression due to her Omega status, Father became even more excessive.

Just because Jasmine couldn't bear Colin choosing me, Father ordered me to give up my fated mate.

Colin had resisted at first, until Jasmine slit her wrists in the bathroom.

Now, the three people I least wanted to see were right before me. I tried to float away but found my soul chained by invisible shackles; I couldn't move if I drifted more than five meters from Father.

"Is the old man's favoritism not enough? Even Death is on her side?" I roared into the air. "Is Jasmine the illegitimate daughter of the universe's ruler?"

No one answered.

I could only watch helplessly as Jasmine was treated like a princess, showered with adoration. The man who always wore a stern face for me, who always spurred me on with 'not good enough', was now personally adjusting Jasmine's veil.

And Colin... He had once looked at me that way too. But the way he gazed at Jasmine now made me realize I had never been special to him.

After Jasmine finally selected her gown, Father pulled out his phone and called Lina.

His reflection in the glass showed a deeply furrowed brow. "Is Jane with you? A twenty-year-old still throwing childish tantrums? Tell that girl if she dares to ruin Jasmine and Colin's Marking Ceremony, she can forget about calling me her father!"

I floated above Father's head and suddenly laughed until tears streamed down my face.

"I'm already dead..." The soul's sob scattered in the wind. "Why do I still have to make way for your 'precious daughter'?"

I screamed at my father, but he couldn't hear me.

I drifted over to Colin. "If you liked Jasmine all along, why did you accept the fate arranged by the Moon Goddess back then? Why did you acknowledge me as your fated mate?"

Sadly, he couldn't hear me either.

He and Father always put Jasmine first. They hadn't even noticed me growing weaker from the wolfsbane poisoning.

Now that I was dead, they were even less likely to notice me.

Defeated, I floated over to Jasmine, looking at the pearl-studded wedding dress she wore.

That was a design I had spent three months on, the position of every pearl painstakingly revised.

After the fitting, Father prepared to leave. My soul, like a dog on an invisible leash, was dragged along.

Back home, Father sat on the sofa, constantly checking his phone.

After failing to reach me via mind-link, he made three more unanswered calls.

"Throwing a tantrum, won't even answer calls," he complained, frowning. "Always so unreasonable, never as sensible as Jasmine."

"I'm dead! How could I answer?" I retorted reflexively, then realized, "Oh right, you don't even know I'm dead."

A more pathetic truth struck me: given Father's level of neglect towards me, he might not realize I was gone for another two years.

Whereas if Jasmine didn't reply to a message for ten minutes, he'd turn the entire Pack upside down in panic.

The following days felt like prolonged torture. I was forced to watch Father fuss over Jasmine, watch Colin shower her with tenderness.

Fate was truly ironic. When I was alive, I could barely get them to see me; dead, I had to witness their happiness 24/7.

"Aren't you the one who hates seeing me most?" I taunted, floating right in front of Father. "Go find a sorcerer to exorcise me! Didn't you always wish I'd disappear?"

Even as I said it, I felt a flicker of fear. How painful was soul-scattering? No one had ever told me.

I turned to Colin. "Forget it, you bury me instead. Maybe then I can go to heaven. Marry whoever you want. But why lie to me saying it was forced? It's not like this is the first time she's taken what belonged to me."

I rambled on for a long time, but they couldn't hear a single word.

Their world consisted only of Jasmine, Jasmine, Jasmine.

As if she were the Moon Goddess incarnate.

Soon, Colin and Jasmine's Marking Ceremony arrived.

That morning, Pack social media exploded—news of 'Chris Successfully Extracts Dead Memories' flooded every feed.

The report said Chris would conduct a public demonstration at 10:30 AM.

Father and Colin saw the news but paid it no mind. They were busy with final preparations for the Marking Ceremony.

When I saw the ceremony venue, I nearly exploded with rage—not only had they used my wedding dress design, but the entire venue layout was copied straight from my blueprints.

Father and Colin knew full well I'd spent countless sleepless nights drawing those.

"Shameless!" I roared.

Father was instructing the guards: "If you see Jane, under no circumstances let her in."

"Beg me and I wouldn't come!" I was furious. "Who wants to watch your disgusting performance?!"

Colin said to Lina, who had come for the Marking Ceremony: "After the ceremony, I'll explain to Jane personally. She's so understanding, she'll surely comprehend."

"Comprehend? When pigs fly!" I swung a fist at him, but it passed harmlessly through his body.

Lina's tears suddenly spilled over. "You... you bastards!"

Seeing her cry made my heart ache. I tried to wipe her tears, but my fingers passed through her face again and again.

Then Lina raised her phone with trembling hands; the screen showed Chris's live broadcast.

My corpse lay quietly on the experimental table, wearing my favorite floral dress.

But the long illness had ravaged me beyond recognition; now I looked like a skeleton draped in skin, horrifying even to myself.

Lina trembled as she raised her phone. "Maybe it's better Jane died! At least she doesn't have to suffer your injustices anymore! With the way you people are, no wonder she didn't even want to leave her body to you!"

Father stared at the phone screen, his face instantly turning deathly pale.

His lips trembled for a few moments before he managed a dry, brittle sentence: "What does Jane's death have to do with Jasmine? Why must you cause a scene at her Marking Ceremony? Don't you know Jasmine has depression? Even dead, Jane won't let me have peace, really..."

Thud.

Colin's bouquet fell to the floor, but he didn't pick it up.

His gaze was glued to Lina's phone screen. The hand gripping the table was knuckle-white, veins bulging, just barely steadying his swaying body.

"Jane's funeral..." Colin took a deep, shuddering breath, "...can be held after the ceremony. We can't let her death affect Jasmine's emotions. Jasmine shouldn't bear responsibility for this."

I floated between them and suddenly laughed out loud.

So my life wasn't even worth Jasmine's ceremony.

"The ceremony? The ceremony?!" Lina's voice rose sharply. "Fuck your Marking Ceremony!"

She violently overturned the nearest table. Glasses shattered on the floor with a piercing crash. Guests gasped and scrambled back; chaos erupted instantly.

"You like playing favorites?" Lina stormed onto the stage, connecting her phone to the projection equipment. "I'm demanding justice for Jane today!"

On the large screen, Chris was preparing the memory extraction experiment. The image flashed back, showing seven-year-old Jasmine. She held a pair of scissors in one hand, my mother's cloth bunny rabbit in the other.

"Give it back!" Five-year-old me jumped, trying to reach it. "That's what Mom left for me!"

My mother was the Alpha's sister, but she died on the battlefield.

Jasmine waved her trophy triumphantly. "No! Who told you to fight with me for Daddy?"

Snip. The scissors cut off the bunny's ear.

"He's my daddy!" I cried, charging headfirst into Jasmine. As she fell, the scissors sliced across her palm.

My stepmother's shriek pierced the air immediately: "If Jane doesn't want us here, we'll leave right now!"

Father didn't even ask what happened.

Smack! A slap stunned me.

"Daring to hurt someone at such a young age? Go to the storage room and reflect!" Father grabbed my collar and threw me into the pitch-black closet.

I cried until my voice was hoarse in the dark. No one came.

Finally, Father only said: "Apologize to your sister."

That night, the family of they three went to the amusement park. As punishment, I was left alone at home.

The scene switched to when I was eight. In front of the Pack school's achievement board, I pointed excitedly at the top name: "Dad, look! I'm second in physical combat, first in marksmanship!"

Jasmine stood beside me, clutching a failing report card. Suddenly, she burst into loud sobs.

"Why aren't you first in combat?" Father snatched my report card. "So careless and still bragging?"

The paper shredded in his hands.

But then he turned and hugged Jasmine. "Grades don't matter. My daughter just needs to be happy. I'll take you to buy a new dress."

I crouched on the floor, picking up the pieces of paper. When Lina came over, I was clumsily trying to tape the report card back together.

"Next time, do worse on purpose," Lina advised me. "Then your dad won't scold you."

I believed her. On the next test, I deliberately missed the target. But what awaited me wasn't comfort; it was the sting of a leather belt on my skin.

"From first place to dead last? What were you doing all day at school?"

Laughter drifted from the next room: "Jasmine improved from last time, so great! Daddy bought you a new doll."

That night, curled under the blankets, I asked Lina: "Do you think... maybe Jasmine is actually Dad's real daughter?"

At thirteen, I finally couldn't take it anymore. Lina gave me an idea: "Next time, when she's not paying attention, deliberately provoke her in front of your father. Let him see her true colors!"

I waited for the perfect moment. Finally, I found one: Jasmine thought Father wasn't home. She shoved me hard to the ground and strutted off.

I ran upstairs excitedly to tell Father, whose face was grim: "Now you know her true colors!"