Antonella:

"Jerk! You spineless sheep!" How dare he insult me like that? I did everything he ever asked of me because I loved him deeply. I was ready to give him my all, yet he dismissed my sacrifices and used such degrading words to describe me. My heart was ablaze with anger. Jaziel's sharp claws were ripping into it, leaving wounds that bled slowly, transforming into tears that silently rolled down my cheeks. The quiet sobs left me feeling cold and alone.

Once I managed to calm down, I turned back into my human form, feeling the chill on my skin. I hugged myself, my nails digging into my arms. Sweet memories surfaced, wrapped in delicate bubbles, one by one in my mind.

After my father, Mateo, agreed to let us date, I had cooked a candlelit dinner, despite barely knowing how to cook. I burned my hand on the boiling water, and Jaziel was there instantly, gently touching the blister. "Does it hurt? Silly girl, you should have left it to me!" he said.

Another time, when I was unwell, he held me close and sprinted to the estate’s medical wing, staying by my side for days and nights, his eyes red from exhaustion. I brushed his chin with concern, and he chuckled, "It's okay. We'll be home soon."

He kissed the old scar on my wrist, tenderness obvious in his eyes, and under the moonlight, he promised, "I, Jaziel Lynch, will never let Antonella Mitchell face any hardship in this life!"

The moonlight was so enchanting that night; it tricked me into believing he truly loved me.

"Are you sure that by tomorrow, you'll have just as much as the heiress?" Oscar asked hesitantly.

"She's crazy about me," Jaziel replied, shifting into a more comfortable position. "Once I have her inheritance, I don’t need her anymore."

"Wow, that’s harsh. How can you treat someone who's been nothing but genuine with you like that?"

Jaziel laughed heartily, "Genuine? Sincerity doesn't pay the bills. We’ve endured enough hunger, scorn, and insults as loners. I won’t go through that again."

"Aren’t you worried Antonella will uncover your plot?"

"With her smarts, she won’t catch on."

Jaziel downed his glass of whiskey, as if with absolute resolve. Their conversation dragged me back to harsh reality. Jaziel saying to Oscar, "Once I have her inheritance, I don’t need her anymore," felt like icy needles stabbing into my aching temples.

I pressed my fingers against my temples, trying to clear my mind. I was nothing but a means to wealth for him. I was the fool who thought I'd found a lifelong partner when in reality, I was just a golden ticket wrapped in warmth to him.

Tears fell again, carrying my broken heart with them to the cold ground, as if it had suddenly dropped. I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand, but the more I wiped, the wetter my face became, my vision blurring.

My inner wolf roared, "If that’s the case, then get rid of him!"

The colorful bubbles in my mind shattered into dust with that roar. I dared not listen further, fearing my heart would also turn to dust. Yet I feared confronting Jaziel, afraid of succumbing to his verbal assaults.

My legs felt weighted down, unable to move. I stood there, biting my lip hard enough that my teeth pierced the skin, using the pain to suppress the lump in my throat.

"About the engagement party cake, you should find a way to lace it with wolfsbane," Jaziel’s wolf-like eyes narrowed, hatching an even darker scheme.

"Wolfsbane?" My pupils widened in shock.

"You wouldn’t...come on, man, I think you should reconsider. Wolfsbane is dangerous for us," Oscar warned.

"A little won’t do any harm. After she signs over the inheritance, we’ll celebrate with a toast and cake. The wolfsbane will strip her of the ability to awaken her inner wolf. Imagine, the heiress of the Red Ridge Wolves unable to shift! Hahaha…" Jaziel laughed maniacally. "Just the thought excites me!"

"Antonella, he…he wants to kill us…no, he wants to kill me!" My wolf howled in despair.

Jaziel's words felt like icy spikes driving into my bones, scraping away the last bit of warmth from my heart. This time, the tears didn’t fall. I just felt cold, from my fingertips to my core, as if plunged into a winter lake.

The person I bared my soul to wanted to render me powerless, leaving me an heiress without a wolf—a cruel joke indeed.

Any hope I had about love or a shared future had frozen and shattered into pieces. Oscar sighed helplessly, "Only you could come up with something so devious."

"It's merely stripping her of her title, nothing more. It won't kill her," Jaziel said, his face twisted into a sinister expression I had never seen before. "An heiress without her wolf is worthless. By then, I can break it off, be single again, and keep her wealth."

"You’re the most despicable wolf I’ve ever seen," Oscar said, shifting into his wolf form. "Leave it to me," he said, heading for the back door. "If you change your mind, call me. Wolfsbane is hard to come by…"

"Not unless pigs fly," Jaziel replied casually.

"Antonella, it seems he’s set on killing me!"

"Kill you? Who would dare?"

My inner wolf howled, and my whole body trembled. If he is so heartless, then I shall be ruthless.

Jaziel:

Watching Austin slip out through the back door, I felt a surge of relief, as if I were on the cusp of becoming a wealthy and eligible bachelor. "Wolfsbane, what a delightful thing!" I murmured to myself. If everything goes according to plan, the princess who loses her ability to transform into a wolf will be considered even lower than an Omega in the pack. By then, leaving her won't be criticized, and they can't reclaim the wealth I've already secured from the Alpha wolves. It's a brilliant plan!

As I indulged in these thoughts, my keen ears caught a faint gasp, and I immediately became alert, shifting to my wolf form and darting to the door. Antonella stood just a few steps away, clutching her waist with a pained expression, sweat beading on her face. I was caught off guard, instantly controlling my breathing, fearing that the pounding of my heart would betray my flawless scheme.

But... what if she overheard my conversation with Austin...

Flattening my ears against my head to hide any trembling, I cautiously asked, "Antonella, darling, how long have you been standing there?"

"Just got here..."

I noticed Antonella's face was pale and stained with tears, but I wasn't concerned about what was wrong with her; I just wanted to know if she had heard anything. Cold sweat trickled down my back as my heart raced—had she truly not heard? Or was she faking ignorance to test me? I dared not dwell on it.

Knowing Antonella cherished my feigned concern, I played the part, gently taking her hand and caressing her wrist where an old injury lay, feigning affection. "Why didn't you call me to pick you up? You might catch a cold."

"How fragile do you think I am?" Antonella's voice held no hint of suspicion, reassuring me that she hadn't overheard the conversation.

Relieved, I brushed her wrist, and memories of Eliza washed over me. Last night by the stream, she had leaped into my arms, water droplets from her hair trickling down my neck, her delicate fingers intertwining with mine. She gazed at me, bathed in moonlight, alluring and enchanting. "I want to be there; it must be quite the spectacle."

The contrast between Antonella's innocence and Eliza's allure sliced through my mind like twin blades. Eliza spoke of the Harvest Festival, the event where Antonella and I would finalize our partnership contract. Despite my fears of potential pitfalls, I agreed to Eliza's request because her allure was irresistible.

It was time to reveal Eliza's presence to Antonella, I thought to myself, so much so that I missed what Antonella was saying. "What did you say, dear? I didn't quite catch that."

"Nothing important."

She likely didn't say anything significant—just a simple she-wolf lacking in complex thoughts. I pulled Antonella close, attempting to embrace her, but she sidestepped. Her increasingly pale complexion suggested she might indeed have caught a chill, presenting an opportunity for me to demonstrate my concern.

I grasped Antonella's hand again; her palm was icy. "See, I told you, you'd catch a chill! Let me warm you up."

Antonella remained unresponsive, her eyes downcast, her pallor making her appear fragile. I gazed at her arm retreating into her sleeve, her porcelain skin reminiscent of peeled parsnips. Last night, Eliza lay on the rocks by the stream, her fair arm submerged in the water, resembling parsnips; droplets cascaded down her skin. Touching her had been both smooth and soft, leaving my fingertips scented with sweetness.

Suddenly, awakened by Antonella’s cool touch, I found myself irresistibly drawn to Eliza amidst this icy pallor.

Swallowing hard, my body flushed with heat, I loosened my collar and hurriedly ushered Antonella into the room. In that moment, all I wanted was to tear Antonella apart, using her to banish thoughts of Eliza.

"I'm not feeling well."

"What's wrong, darling?" Antonella rejected me, and this was the first time she had done so, leaving me slightly shocked. "I saw a wolf cub's body on the way here; it broke my heart," Antonella said, gently wiping her tears away.

"My dear princess, you are so kind," I murmured, stroking her face, seeking a kiss, but Antonella subtly withdrew. She genuinely appeared saddened. "Perhaps it was a stray wolf; seeing a stray wolf's body is quite common."

I observed Antonella's tear-stained fingertips, a bitterness rising in my throat—a memory from the desolate fields, gnawing on hardened carrion, when I too had seen the corpse of a fellow wolf, its face half-eaten by vultures. Who would shed a tear for a stray wolf then?

Antonella’s tear-filled eyes fluttered like butterflies upon my scar, causing me to reminisce. The scene of fighting crows over stale bread surfaced, my back shredded, swallowing my sobs because no one cared for stray wolves, except...

Except for the sheer will to survive, to gain wealth, to shed the stray wolf identity. Beyond this, how else could one live? Those nights counting wounds, yearning for dawn, those days crushing pride for mere morsels—all now intertwined with the noble princess before me.

Internally, I mocked her naivety, akin to my own past weaknesses. Her tears disgusted me—stray wolves were nothing more than grass, the powerful’s pity akin to maggots on carrion, more repulsive than the maggots themselves.

And yet, wasn’t I clinging to her? Hoping to use her vast wealth to pull myself from the mire. My mind was rife with contradictions—loathing the false pity while yearning to climb, to transcend. "Stray wolves often meet their end," I said, returning Antonella's gaze, her sorrow mirroring the desolation within me, piercing deeply.

"Meeting you was my fortune, darling."

"Really?"

"Absolutely, I treasure all I have—yourself and my friends. I truly do." Now was the moment to introduce Antonella to Eliza. "Speaking of which, darling, I have a friend, a stray wolf. We've known each other since childhood. She’s coming to the contract ceremony; I wish to host her at our townhouse. How does that sound?"

"Such trivial matters, you decide." Antonella's indifference suited my plan. Once more, I embraced her waist, seeking intimacy as she rested against me. My phone buzzed unexpectedly, revealing a message from Eliza: "Missing the feel of your bite on my neck; it excites me."

### Antonella:

Jaziel's hand on my waist felt warm, yet beneath that warmth, a chill crept into my bones. Five years ago, I had knelt before my father, pleading to be with Jaziel. As the head of our family, my father was bound by the rigid hierarchy of the aristocracy. How could he allow his only daughter, the heiress of the Red Ridge estate, to be with an outsider of lower status? He commanded his guards to lock me in my room.

"Please, Father, we truly love each other!"

"Until I say otherwise, no one lets her out!"

I cried until my voice was raw, but all that greeted me was his stern orders. I tried everything: escaping, refusing meals, threats, even feigning madness—every method I could devise. In the end, only despair remained.

"Ready to give up?" My inner voice taunted.

"Give up? There's no such word in Antonella Mitchell's vocabulary."

I glanced at the wineglass on the table, stood up, and walked toward it. For happiness, a shattered glass was a small price.

"Crash..."

At the sound, the guards burst into my room, but too late—bright red blood seeped from my wrist. Father arrived in a hurry, and as he saw my bandaged yet bleeding wrist, he lost his usual composure and yelled at me.

"Look at yourself, Antonella Mitchell—making such a foolish sacrifice for an outsider!"

"Are you truly ready to defy centuries of family tradition for him?"

His fury filled the room as he paced before me, each step grinding against my resolve.

"Yes!" I declared defiantly.

After what felt like fifteen minutes, Father's anger ebbed, replaced by a calmer demeanor. He paused, studying me quietly. "If you're willing to stake your future happiness and half your inheritance on an outsider's heart, so be it."

"I'll protect you as the patriarch of the Red Ridge estate until the family accepts you."

The anger in his eyes turned to resignation.

"Thank you, Dad," I whispered, my lips dry.

"Don't thank me," he replied, turning away. "But remember, outsiders are often greedy and self-serving; their hearts can be cold and calculating..."

"No, they're not," I cut in, speaking with conviction. "Jaziel's different!"

"For me, he's willing to face every adversity..."

"When I suffer the slightest injury, he worries and tirelessly seeks out doctors for me..."

"His eyes brim with affection when he looks at me, and I feel his sincerity..."

Father stood silently with his back to me for a long time. Just before leaving the room, he turned and said, "I hope your choice is right."

Now, five years on, it all seems so absurd. The man I trusted with my heart taught me: never blindly trust an outsider, especially one who seems helpless!

I treated him with kindness, repaid him a hundredfold. I thought he was my future, that we could rise above societal judgments...

But in the end, it was just my imagination...

A carefully constructed illusion.