Three days later, I sprawled on my bed, my forehead throbbing and my left arm wrapped in thick bandages.

Outside my window, maids whispered.

"Shawn's so thoughtful, sending all these tonics and jewels. He must care about our Leah very much."

"Thoughtful?" The other one scoffed softly. "None of those gifts were to her liking. When Quinn sprained her ankle, Shawn went to her place in person and filled it with things she actually loved. But when Leah was on the brink of death, he didn't even show his face."

"Shh, don't let Leah hear."

I lied motionlessly. And a sour smile tugged at my mouth.

If he truly valued me, would he shame me like this, a high-born she-wolf by demanding I accept Quinn as an equal mate?

I shut my eyes and the past rushes in: I mixed tonics he left untouched, spent whole nights outside his study waiting for a door that never opened.

I told myself he was merely cold.

It was not until I saw every spark of his warmth light another she-wolf.

This time, I won't be that fool.

While I mend, the room hums with whispers: Shawn took Quinn out on the boat again; a whole crate of southern silk arrived, addressed only to her; he is giving her riding lessons.

I tune it out, focusing on healing.

Since I have recovered, Diana arranges the Feast and summons the high-born she-wolves of Belmor Town to the palace. Quinn and I rode in the same carriage.

At the banquet Shawn keeps to the circle of male wolves, gaze fixed on Quinn. When her throat dries he passes her tea; when heat flushes her skin he finds a fan. Her smile lands and his stare melts like early spring ice.

He doesn't spare a glance at me.

I trace the rim of my cup, pretending it doesn't sting.

Midway through, Diana, in high spirits, pulls a golden phoenix hairpin from her hair. "Let's have a contest, ladies. The winner takes this prize."

I've played the zither since I was a pup, and when my song ends, the hall erupts in awe.

Diana claps, beaming. "Leah, your skill is unmatched. The hairpin's yours."

Wolves rise to congratulate me, but Shawn stays seated, murmuring comfort to a defeated Quinn.

"Your music's amazing, sister," Quinn says, eyes glistening, voice dripping with grievance. "I can't compete even a hair of you."

Shawn smiles softly. "It's just a hairpin. If you want one, I'll scour the great pack for the finest, just for you."

Quinn's tears vanish, replaced by a grin. "Why are you so good to me?"

The pavilion goes quiet. My fingers freeze on my sleeve, breath caught in my throat.

"Three years ago," Shawn murmurs, voice soft as thawing snow, "I was ambushed and left for dead beyond the pack. You drew the poison from my wounds and kept me alive. From that instant, I vowed to cherish you for the rest of my days."

Quinn freezes, her expression dazed.

My fan slips from my hand, hitting the ground like thunder in my ears.

It was me. I saved him.

That winter night I found Shawn bleeding in the snow, hauled him to my home, drew the poison from his veins at the risk of my own life, and kept vigil for six days and nights. When he finally opened his eyes, exhaustion had already pulled me under; by the time I woke, he had vanished.

All this past life and present, he thought it was Quinn who did it.

He loved the wrong she-wolf.

My fingers clench the fabric so hard the nails dig half-moons into my palm. Quinn's vacant stare, Shawn's soft eyes-everything feels so grotesquely comic I almost burst out laughing, yet the dull weight in my chest swallows the sound before it can escape.

"I." Quinn starts, her eyes flickering, but she says nothing more, just ducks her head with a shy smile.

I turn away, throat constricted. Telling him now would serve no purpose; I am already promised to another. If Shawn is convinced Quinn rescued him, let him keep that belief.

I scoop up my fallen fan and slip into the depths of the garden.

As the she-wolves scatter to admire the blooms, Shawn murmurs to a maid to look after Quinn, his eyes never once drifting my way.

A sharp scream shatters the garden's calm. "Bees! Bees!"

I spin around. Quinn's flailing, a swarm buzzing around her as she swats with her handkerchief.

Maids scramble, waving torches to drive the bees off, but one catches a curtain, and flames leap up, smoke billowing.

"Fire! Run!"

The surge of the crowd knocks me down; ribs blaze as shoes drum across me. Clenching my teeth, I drag myself upright,and spot Shawn ploughing against the flow.

My heart leaps.

But he brushes past me, racing to Quinn. He sweeps her into his arms, and as he turns, his shoulder slams me back to the ground.

My skull slams into the stone steps and the world blurs. Smoke floods my lungs while heat crawls across my skin. Just before the dark takes me, I catch sight of Shawn's steady silhouette, Quinn in his arms, moving away without a backward glance.

Everything fades.

I don't know how long I'm out, but faint sobs pull me back. "Leah, you must hold on. The healer's on his way."

I heard some whispers.

"Diana gave him her best, but Shawn took them all for Quinn."

"We begged him to come, saying you're hurt worse, but he. he didn't care."

My chest aches. But I squeezed my eyes shut.

Suddenly I heard footsteps.

"The healer's here!"

A healer checked my pulse, and the prick of silver needles made me wince, but I was too weak to even groan.

"Her injuries are severe. Why her treatment was delayed." The healer's voice is grim. "She'll live, but she'll suffer."

"She's alive! Thank the stars!" The maids cried bitterly.

I wake up the next day, propping against the headboard.

The healer returns, checks my pulse, prescribes herbs, and orders me to have a good rest.

Outside, servants whisper. "Shawn hasn't visited Leah once."

"Quinn just got spooked, and he's there every day, spoon-feeding her medicine."

My fingers clench, heart sliced open by a dull blade. But I just stroke my bandages, pretending I hear nothing.

While I heal, I begin to arrange my dowry. In the previous life I had packed it with joy, convincing that tying myself to Shawn would open the way to happiness; instead it ushered in a nightmare.

I will not walk that path again.

I catalog my mother's heirlooms,jewelry, silks, paintings and have the deeds to my lands and shops double-checked. Everything's in order.

The next day, the town buzzes.

Shawn arrives with a lavish betrothal procession, and servants crowd the corridors to gawk.

"A bushel of East Sea pearls!"

"Hundred bolts of silk!"

"A pair of rosewood screens, carved with gold!"

Shawn's steward belts out the list as lackeys haul in leather chests. The servants murmur. "Shawn's got deep pockets!"

"Leah and Quinn both get treasures fit for Lunas. Talk about prestige!"

I stand on the porch, watching calmly. The gifts are identical, down to the last pearl, as if to scream that Quinn and I are equals in this bond.

Once the list is finished, the steward raises a polished jade bangle from a lacquered box. "This Yates family heirloom is to be presented by Madam Yates to the next mistress of the den."

Every eye turns to me. As the high-born she-wolf, it should be mine.

But Shawn takes the bangle and strides to Quinn, sliding it onto her wrist. "Wear it," he says softly. "In my heart, you're the only one worthy."

Quinn's eyes light up, though she glances at me, feigning hesitation. "Is this. okay?"

Shawn chuckles. "Leah's big-hearted. She won't mind."

The crowd steals glances at me, pity in their eyes. I just smile faintly and turn to leave.

The bracelet was never mine; I will not bind myself to him, so his heirlooms are unnecessary. When I leave, these gifts will be returned unopened.

Shawn and his entourage depart, but Quinn calls after me, her smile smug. "That scene back there sting, sister?"

I pause but don't look back.

"That bracelet is only the beginning," she murmurs. "Shawn loves me. Even if we both wear his mark, you will remain below me, unloved and alone for the rest of your days."

My fingers shake; that final life is gone. I have vowed not to love Shawn again, and this time I have taken another road, determined not to retrace the old steps.

I close my eyes briefly, then walk away without a word.

Quinn's frustration crackles behind me. Then her gaze sharpens, venomous, as if a new scheme's brewing.

That night, as I settle into bed, my door crashes open. A cold hand yanks my wrist, dragging me from the sheets.

"Leah!" Shawn's voice is ice, his eyes blazing with fury. "How could you be so cruel? Sending wolves to throw your sister in the lake?"

Pain shoots through my wrist as I meet his glare. "I didn't do it!"

"Didn't?" He scoffs.

"Quinn's too kind to lie about you."

In his eyes, Quinn is pure, but what about me?

"I'd never hurt her," I say, voice shaking as I fight the pain.

"I have no reason to hurt her."

"No reason?" His eyes are cold.

"You love me. I love her. That's reason enough."

He flings my arm aside.

"I know everything you've done-staying up all night to nurse me through the fever, taking a blade meant for me, even smashing the zither you loved just to please me."

Each word pales my face further.

"But all I owe you is gratitude," he replies.

"I love your sister. Had you kept to your place, I would have shown you the respect due a mate. Instead you defied me and struck Quinn-an act I will not forgive."

"It wasn't me!" I choke out.

He doesn't listen to me at all.

Grabbing my arm, he barks, "Guards! Throw her in the lake. She stays there till dawn. No one pulls her out without my say."

Icy water closes over me. I surge upward, only to be forced beneath again by the guards. My throat scorches, sight dimming. In the blur, Shawn stands unmoved on the bank while Quinn, cloaked and fragile, presses against him.

"Shawn." Her voice trembles. "She didn't mean it. Forgive her."

"You're too kind," he murmurs, arms around her. "If I don't punish her now, she'll only hurt you worse later."

He tucks her closer. "Don't worry. I'll give you the reins. You'll never suffer."

They turn and leave.

"Shawn!" I scream his name, voice raw.

But he doesn't look back.

Cold slips through to my bone, and I shiver while a hollow laugh rises. If he ever discovers that I was the one who rescued him, the one he ought to have loved, will his heart fracture the way mine is breaking now?

At first light, the guards haul me outside.

My maids swaddle me in blankets, cheeks wet.

"He treats you like this before you even enter the bond," one whispers through her tears. "What will become of you since you're bond with him?"

I'm freezing, lips bloodless, but I shake my head weakly. "I'm. not bonding with him."

"Not bonding with me?" Shawn's voice cuts through.

He stands in the doorway. "Then who else would take you?"