I had just left the group when Ethan's call came through. As he was an Alpha, I couldn't refuse him.

"Ivy, come over right now," he demanded.

"Where?"

"You know where. The pack house."

I scoffed. "What for?"

"To apologize to Ella."

"Why should I apologize?"

"You leaving the group like that is an open provocation. Do you realize how the other families will see her now?" Ethan's tone was harsh, carrying the usual forcefulness of an Alpha.

"I don't want others to slander her. My wolf chose her as my mate, and I need to give her the rightful status. She's innocent. She shouldn't bear the reputation of a homewrecker because of your recklessness."

Even though I no longer let his actions rattle my emotions, the phantom ache of being rejected now spread through my chest.

My fingers trembled slightly as I gripped the phone, and my nails nearly transformed into claws, threatening to pierce my palms.

When I spoke, my voice trembled too. "Ethan, you can't use your Alpha authority to bully someone like this. What right do you have to treat me this way? You were the one who first abandoned our fated bond. I felt your rejection, yet I did nothing. I even congratulated you. Isn't that enough?"

I stubbornly refused to cry or show weakness to him, but my voice still carried a sob.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone. It was as if the wolf inside him felt unsettled in that instant.

"Ivy, I can let your disrespect slide this time, but I hope you remember—Ella is innocent. Don't take your anger out on her or hurt her."

He then ended the call.

I sat on the carpet as my whole body shook. On the nightstand was a photo of my mother. In the picture, she was looking at me gently and lovingly.

My mother had been a highly respected and high-ranking healer of the previous generation.

Suddenly, I burst into tears and threw myself over, hugging the photo frame tightly. Through a layer of cold glass, I lightly pressed my face against my mother's.

My tears kept falling, and in the photo, my mother seemed to grieve for me too.

I didn't want to cry anymore. I didn't want to worry Mom, who had already returned to the Moon Goddess's embrace.

Once the anniversary of Mom's passing was over, I would take the moonstone necklace she left me and leave the Silvermoon pack forever—whether it was to become a lone wolf with freedom, or the Luna of another pack.

Ella soon moved into my bedroom.

Meanwhile, I didn't choose to live in her small, dark room. Instead, I temporarily stayed in a guest room I picked at random.

The maids, after judging who was the current favorite, prepared bedding for me that was damp and musty-smelling. It was pure torture for a werewolf with a keen sense of smell.

I simply decided to sleep in my going-out clothes.

It was only for a few more days, after all. I just had to endure it, and everything would be completely over soon.

But the next morning, as soon as I got up and went downstairs, I found the side hall—where a memorial altar had been dedicated to Mom—in utter chaos.

Mom's photo had been thrown on the floor, the frame shattered, and the picture smudged with muddy footprints. My once-smiling mother appeared to be gazing at me, now weeping in anguish.

The evening primroses meant for the altar—flowers of great significance to my mother—were scattered across the floor, while the mutt Ella kept was tearing at the petals.

Ella stood to the side, clapping and cheering with a malicious gleam in her eyes.

As I took in the scene, I felt my blood boil and rush to the top of my head.

All my rationale and thoughts of restraint vanished in an instant. I felt my nails lengthening and my fangs itching.

I snapped and grabbed the crystal candlestick nearby before throwing it at the dog.

The little dog, terrified, tucked its tail and ran. Ella screamed as shards from the candlestick cut her arm.

"Ivy! What are you doing? How could you hit someone!" Dad's voice rang out, carrying the roar of a Beta and an Elder.

Ella had already tearfully thrown herself into his arms. "Dad, save me! Ivy's wolf is losing control! She wants to kill me…"

"Ivy, you're going too far!" Dad yelled.

"Are you blind? She destroyed my mother's memorial and ruined her photo…"

My whole body shook as tears streamed down uncontrollably. I felt aggrieved and heartbroken for Mom.

But Dad only glanced at the mess on the floor and frowned. "That doesn't give you the right to hurt someone! In the pack, we have our rules!"

I opened my mouth to speak up. "Dad…"

"Ivy, your mother has been gone a long time. The dead aren't as important as the living! And anyway, Ella is the one Ethan cares about now."

As a pale-faced and timid Ella spoke, she emitted submissive pheromones. "Dad, it was my dog who accidentally knocked things over. I was going to apologize to Ivy, but as soon as she came downstairs, she unleashed her dominance and charged over to hit me. I didn't even get a chance to say anything…"

She raised her bleeding arm, looking pitifully at Dad. "Dad, maybe Mom and I should just move out of the pack…"

I scoffed. "Even if the mutt doesn't know better, shouldn't you?"

Dad glared at me, suddenly raised his hand, and delivered a heavy slap. I forgot to dodge—or rather, I didn't bother to.

The crisp sound echoed through the hall.

Dad seemed to freeze for a moment, but in the end, he said nothing. He turned away and led Ella off to call a healer for her wound.

I watched their backs as they walked away. Only after a long while did I feel the burning pain on my face.

The humiliation I felt ran deeper than any physical hurt could within me.

I raised my hand to cover my slightly swollen face. As tears fell, I let out a mocking laugh. I knew that this pack and the Turner family no longer had a place for me.

…

That afternoon, I accidentally overheard Dad's conversation with the pack's Elder Council.

"Yes, Ella's bloodline may be mixed, but her bond with Ethan could bring new genetic advantages. As for Ivy… Her mother's lineage is indeed noble, but our alliance with the Nightblood pack has been precarious in recent years. We need new ties."

I leaned against the wall and dug my nails deep into my palms.

It turned out to be more than an emotional betrayal—it was a meticulously planned political maneuver. To them, I was worth no more than a bargaining chip.

That same night, I contacted a diplomatic envoy of the northern Nightblood pack through an encrypted channel.

"Tell Lucas Knight that I'm willing to accept his offer to bond as mates, but on one condition. I want the Silvermoon pack to pay for their betrayal."

In the middle of the night, I was suddenly awakened by crying and screaming. My heightened hearing as a werewolf even allowed me to hear the frantic footsteps downstairs.

I had just sat up when my door was kicked open from the outside.

Linda rushed in crying. Before I could even gather my thoughts, several heavy slaps landed on my face.

"How could you be so cruel? Where's your conscience? Wasn't hurting her during the day enough? Now you even want to kill her?"

Linda threw herself into Dad's arms, wailing. "She knew very well that Ella—despite being a werewolf—has an extremely weak constitution and is severely allergic to high concentrations of evening primrose pollen. And yet, she deliberately sprinkled that pollen on Ella's bed and pillow.

"She wanted to take our daughter's life! This is murder! Just because Ella accidentally allowed the dog to ruin her mother's evening primrose, she has to take revenge like this!"

"Alright, don't cry. Luckily, Ella took the antidote in time and is fine." Dad soothed her gently while looking at me with disgust. "Ivy, you've disappointed me too much.

"Move out of the manor tomorrow. Keeping you here will only bring chaos to the whole family. I can't let a dangerous being like you harm the future Luna."

Linda's crying stopped immediately at those words.

I looked at the man before me. He used to be my closest family member in this world and an Elder of the Turner family.

He once loved me immensely—I was his only pure-blood descendant and was treasured like a gem.

But later, everything changed. I was like a protagonist in a drama who had all her glory stolen away, gradually becoming left with nothing.

At first, I couldn't understand why things turned out that way. I cried, I made scenes, and I fought back.

But now, I finally understood—the father-and-daughter bond between us had completely run its course.

…

On the day I moved out of Turner Manor, Dad said to me, "Once your mother's memorial is over, I'll bring you back home. You need to reflect on yourself and learn to control your wolf."

I didn't respond to him.

Once they left, I took all the photos from over the years—the ones of Ethan and me, of Dad and me—and cut them into pieces before throwing them into the fireplace.

Finally, I burned the white gown that I had sewn three years ago. I had it secretly made from the most precious lunar silk after Ethan's family proposed our mating.

It was the sacred gown I had imagined countless times since I was a pup, the one I would wear during the marking ceremony on a full moon night.

But now, I burned it with my own hands, along with my last bit of attachment to this pack.