Rose Murdock's POV

By the time I came back to my senses and quickly hung up the phone, I had already heard more than enough.

There was a sheet of paper lying on the carpet. I picked it up—it was a medical report. The diagnosis read end-stage heart failure. In the patient column, the name written there was Adrian Sanders, the same one I had just heard on the phone.

That was when I remembered the recent news regarding the leader of the pack's most powerful mercenary corps, Orion. He had suddenly announced that he would hand over his authority to his deputy.

So this was the reason—his body was already failing him.

I put the report back in the drawer together with the bottles of pills.

Time passed slowly. Outside, heavy rain began pouring down, and still, he hadn't returned. Had he really gone off to die?

I threw on a coat and ran out into the storm. His car was still parked in the front yard, so he couldn't have gone far. I headed directly to the mall nearby.

The weather was freezing. I searched three floors of the mall, but didn't see him anywhere.

Suddenly, a voice I knew all too well came from behind me.

"Are you following me?" he asked with suppressed anger.

I turned to see Raymond standing not far away. He was glaring daggers at me.

Beside him was Jenna, the daughter of the Shadow Pack Chamber's president—the same man Raymond had recently struck a deal with. Rumor had it that Raymond had even taken Jenna as his foster sister. That president never stopped praising him for being loyal and righteous.

In the end, he simply didn't want to acknowledge me as his real sister.

I held the umbrella tightly. The sting of humiliation rose like a tide in my chest, but I tried my best not to let it show.

"I wasn't following you. I came here for something else."

The anger in his eyes only became more obvious. He snorted. "You've never set foot in this place before. Do you expect me to believe that?"

Before I could answer, I caught sight of a familiar figure behind him.

Adrian was staring at me in silence.

Raymond saw me ignoring him, and his voice grew impatient. "I'm talking to you! Stop following me. That's against the law. And I'm not your family, do you hear me?"

My gaze shifted to the bag in Adrian's hand. Inside was freshly butchered beef, already cleaned and packed.

So he really had gone to buy beef? For some reason, I couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

Raymond's expression shifted, as if he had seen a ghost. The moment his gaze landed on Adrian, his expression changed drastically.

"What the hell is this werewolf doing here?"

I finally pulled my gaze away from Adrian and looked at Raymond.

"I'm here to find my brother," I said calmly.

Raymond was still staring at Adrian suspiciously. His voice snapped with fury as he barked at me. "How many times have I told you? I'm not your brother! Stop calling me that!"

I ignored him. After walking past him, I stopped in front of Adrian.

Glancing down, I saw his boots were dusted with the distinct mud from the riverbank.

He had wanted to die, but hadn't gone through with it. Instead, he had turned around and gone to the market to buy the beef he promised me.

I reached out and gently took the bag from his hand.

"Let's go," I said softly.

Adrian shivered a little. He hadn't even spoken yet when Raymond suddenly burst forward in rage.

"You're going home with him? Rose, are you out of your mind?"

I looked back at him, my voice faint and confused. "This is my brother. Of course I'm going home with him. Didn't you already know that?"

Raymond's expression darkened. His words were stuck in his throat, and for a long moment, not a single word came out.

I held onto Adrian's arm and started moving forward, but Raymond rushed ahead to block our way.

His whole body trembled with fury as he shouted, "You've been away from the villa all afternoon! Don't tell me you really plan on leaving with this stranger. Are you insane? You don't even have a wolf, and you dare go with a stranger? Do you want to end up dead?"

Rose Murdock's POV

From the way Raymond raged, it seemed he had forgotten that he couldn't wait to sever all ties with me only moments ago.

His eyes were bloodshot, and he suddenly grabbed Adrian by the collar. "You're abducting a minor! I could drag you straight before the Pack Council right now!"

Adrian's voice was calm, almost detached. "She's sixteen. She can make her own choices."

Raymond's expression darkened, his fists clenching at his sides.

My heart clenched in panic. Adrian's health was already so fragile; if Raymond kept shaking him like this, he might collapse right there and then.

More werewolves began stopping to watch the scene.

My heart raced. I shoved Raymond hard, and my voice rose in a fury. "Let go of my brother!"

Raymond worked in the Pack Council, and he cared about appearances. After a tense few seconds, he finally released Adrian and sneered, "Your brother, huh? Then let me ask him something simple—what's her name?"

"Rose," I blurted out before Adrian could speak.

Raymond's face twisted with rage, like he might attack me any second.

"I was asking him! Who told you to answer? You're playing the part well enough, so why don't you keep pretending to have amnesia? You know better than anyone that he doesn't even know you. He doesn't even know your name!"

I looked him dead in the eye and asked flatly, "Are you out of your mind?"

Then, I turned away and laced my fingers through Adrian's. We started to walk.

Behind me, Raymond's bitter laugh cut through the air. "You think pretending you don't know me will wash away your sins? Our parents died because of you! How can you still live like nothing happened?"

My steps faltered for half a beat before I quickened my pace.

Back in the car, I stared out the window. My mind was tangled and restless. In my ears, all I could hear was Raymond's voice.

"You killed our parents. Just being alive makes me hate you! A werewolf like you should never have been allowed to survive!"

I had been premature, born frail and weak. Because of that, our parents poured all their love and attention into me. They treated me like royalty; every year on my birthday, they would call friends and family to celebrate weeks in advance, showering me with gifts. No matter how busy they were, they never missed a milestone—my first lost tooth, my first successful hunt, my first day at the Young Werewolves Academy.

As a child, I was proud. I thought I was a cub especially favored by the Moon Goddess.

Until the year I turned seven.

It was Raymond's birthday. Our parents had gone out of town for a gathering, and when I came home, I found him curled alone in a corner with nothing but a piece of dried meat smaller than his paw.

That night, I swore to myself I'd give him a proper birthday someday.

The chance came at his coming-of-age ceremony.

Our parents had left early that morning for official business in the Northern Territory. My mother, uneasy about leaving me, had wanted to take me with them. I fought her tooth and nail, crying until she finally sighed and relented. She ended up telling the maids to watch over me.

Alone in the house, I secretly began planning a celebration for Raymond.

I used years of saved allowance to reserve a hall at Moonlight Tavern on the outskirts of town. I even contacted some of his friends ahead of time.

By evening, I was just about to message Raymond to send him there when the ground trembled beneath my feet. A brick crashed down from above, knocking me to the floor. My ears rang, filled only with the roar of collapsing stone.

Seeing the chandelier was about to fall, I tried to crawl to safety, but my limbs were too weak.

In the nick of time, my parents descended from above and threw themselves over me.

In the dark, my mother's weak voice whispered against my ear.

"When I was carrying you, Raymond was only three. He was so full of energy. Once, he begged us to take him to see the fireworks at the local festival, but the roads were icy. I slipped, and the fall triggered early labor. I was bedridden for weeks. You came into this world small, frail, and far too soon. Raymond felt guilty ever since. That's why he never let us celebrate Raymond's birthdays. He thought Raymond deserved the punishment."

My head felt increasingly heavy. My parents repeatedly urged me in a soft voice, "Rose, don't sleep. Hold on a little longer. Stay awake…"

I didn't remember how I was pulled from the wreckage. When I opened my eyes, what greeted me were two lifeless bodies.

I screamed in denial, reaching for the werewolves who had rescued me. "That's impossible! I just heard them—they were talking to me! How can they be dead?"

One of the werewolf guards spoke gently. "That was a recording."

Our parents hadn't gone out of town after all. When the quake struck, they rushed back to the villa to save me.

The shards of the silver chandelier had pierced them beyond healing. But with the last of their strength, they had held the roof up through the night, keeping it from crushing me.

Due to severe blood loss, they knew they wouldn't survive. So, they recorded their voices, replaying them again and again at my side to keep me awake.

Raymond, meanwhile, had been away studying in another pack, untouched by the quake.

When he returned and saw the bodies, his eyes welled with tears for the first time. He rounded on me, voice raw with grief and rage.

"Weren't they supposed to take you with them? Why were you home alone? Did you throw another tantrum to get to the theme park? Did you force them to stay for you?"

Rose Murdock's POV

No one ever mentioned again the surprise coming-of-age ceremony I had planned for Raymond. As for the truth behind our parents' deaths, my grief and guilt were more than enough. He didn't need to know.

That day, he had said to me, "Rose, you really make me hate you. I hate you more than anything!"

From then on, he never once looked me in the eye.

I was trapped inside those memories.

Suddenly, I felt someone patting my arm and calling me softly. I jerked awake, gasping for air.

The car had already stopped in the villa district. Adrian sat beside me, watching with worried eyes.

I turned to him and whispered, "Actually, I've always regretted it."

Adrian stayed silent for a few seconds before nodding. His voice was gentle.

"I know."

I forced a smile. He was nothing but a stranger. What could he possibly know?

And yet, that single reply made me break down. My tears fell harder because his voice sounded so much like Raymond's voice from the past—the brother who used to protect me.

After we got out of the car, I silently followed Adrian into the unfamiliar villa.

I hadn't taken more than a few steps when I felt out of breath. My heart raced, and I felt an immense headache.

The healer had once explained that this was an emotional meltdown. Depressed werewolves often broke down without warning. That was when they should find someplace safe, somewhere they could at least talk to their wolf.

But I had lost mine. My wolf had all but vanished the night of the earthquake, gone with my parents. Raymond refused to forgive me. There was no one left to confide in.

I stood frozen, clutching my head.

Adrian's voice was louder than usual.

"Are you tired? Do you want me to carry you?" He steadied me on his back. "Let's go home and eat."

The sudden warmth made my nose sting. My tears spilled uncontrollably, dripping onto his shoulder.

After losing my parents, I was diagnosed with depression. I dreamed of that night again and again. The healer once suggested I talk it out with my brother. But with our parents gone and our family on the brink of collapse, Raymond had been forced to shoulder everything alone.

I couldn't pile my weakness onto him, either.

Adrian roasted the beef in the simplest way. Halfway through dinner, he suddenly put down his fork. "Actually, you and I…"

He hesitated. I knew he was searching for words to say that he and I were complete strangers.

I pretended not to hear, ladling him a bowl of broth. "It tastes a bit spicy. Next time, maybe we should use less pepper?"

He didn't bring it up again.

That night, I tossed and turned. Sleep was impossible. Feeling restless, I got out of bed. Just as I opened my door, I heard violent coughing from the room next door—and beneath it, the sound of dry retching.

I knocked, but nobody answered. The coughing only grew worse.

I pushed the door open. A draft came out, carrying the bitter smell of smoke and alcohol.

Moonlight streamed in through the window, illuminating Adrian curled on the sofa, his broad back hunched in pain. The pale light landed on the blanket at his feet—dark, damp stains spreading there.

It was blood from late-stage heart failure.

Hearing my footsteps, he scrambled to pull open a drawer, shoving in bottles of pills and half-empty liquor. There was still blood smeared on the corner of his mouth.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have seen this."

I didn't answer, and only sat down beside him. "What if they found you a compatible heart? Maybe you'd still have a chance."

Adrian's voice trembled.

"I don't deserve to live. Back then, my sister Emma was already consumed by illness. She chose to leave on her own, afraid I'd drown in the medical debt. All these years, I worked myself to the bone, clawing for money, for connections, doing whatever it took. But in the end, everything came too late. None of it brought her back."

He broke down sobbing.

"But if you really chose to give up on life, wouldn't that be the biggest slap in the face to her?" I said softly. "What if we tried to find you a heart together?"