“Will you be with me on our anniversary?” I asked cautiously.
He nodded.
“Of course, Elara. You always come first.”
I looked up, smiling, meeting his deeply affectionate gaze.
His performance was flawless. In five years, he had never slipped up.
It was all for Seraphina.
That night, I tossed and turned.
As I shifted in bed, I accidentally knocked over the rune bracelet he always kept on the nightstand.
I picked it up, and a strange fluctuation of energy caught my attention.
I held it in my palm, infusing it with a trace of my own power to investigate.
Inside every cold runestone, the same name was meticulously carved in tiny runes.
Seraphina.
In that moment, the last shred of hope I had for Kaelen turned to ash.
The next morning, I told Kaelen, “Let’s go to the White Blossom Pack together.”
The lines of his face tensed for a moment, but he quickly composed himself.
“Alright. But we’ll leave as soon as we drop off the gift.”
Right. He was worried I’d ruin Seraphina’s big day.
I didn’t care about her. I just wanted one last look at my family. After tomorrow, I would be gone forever.
The atmosphere in the White Blossom Pack’s great hall was festive. Seraphina, dressed in lavish robes, was basking in a sea of praise—somehow, she had been nominated for Head Apothecary.
The pack elders beamed at her as if she were the moon itself.
“Seraphina developed the antidote for the Silver-Soaked Poison. There’s no doubt—she’ll be the next Head Apothecary.”
“It’s incredible! It usually takes the council’s labs years to crack problems like this.”
“They even awarded her an honorary certificate. What a genius!”
I froze at the entrance to the hall, my feet feeling as if they were rooted to the spot.
Not long ago, I had been working desperately with my mentor, Master Elias, to develop the antidote for the Silver-Soaked Poison.
This couldn’t be a coincidence.
My eyes locked on the certificate displayed in the center of the hall.
The formula, the notes—every word was like a knife twisting in my gut.
That was my work. The result of my two years of hard work and countless sleepless nights.
Somehow, her name was branded on it instead.
Seraphina saw me. Her smile faltered for a second before twisting into a saccharine smirk. She glided over, her voice laced with mockery.
“Elara, my dear sister, you came too? Do you like the formula? Such a shame. It’s mine now.”
I glared at her, ready to retort—but Seraphina suddenly gasped, swaying as if struck by an invisible force. She clutched her chest, looking as if she might shatter at any moment.
The entire hall erupted.
“What’s happening?!”
“That's an Alpha’s aura! How could you use it on a fragile Omega?!”
Through the chaos, one voice cut through everything—tense, desperate.
“Seraphina!”
I knew that voice. I would know it anywhere.
Kaelen.
The anguish in his voice shattered the last foolish bit of hope I had been clinging to.
He saw me looking at him and quickly masked his panic.
He turned to me, his voice calm but laced with blame.
“Whatever happened, you shouldn’t have used your aura on her.”
I looked back at the wolf I had lived with for five years.
His concern for her was real—so tangible I could feel it.
Then, a shout from the crowd announced that Seraphina had defeated the other competitors and officially won the Head Apothecary’s sigil.
Kaelen’s face lit up.
Pure, unmasked joy—the kind of expression I had never seen him wear for me.
I asked him, my voice barely a whisper, “Why is Seraphina’s formula identical to mine?”
Kaelen stiffened but quickly covered it with a lie.
“Perhaps it was a coincidence. Her research just happened to be similar to yours…”
I didn’t bother to answer. I just let out a cold laugh.
Only three people had access to my laboratory—me, my mentor, and Kaelen.
And the formula? It was locked in the study of our home.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out how it had been leaked—or who had leaked it.
I had developed that formula for Kaelen, to save him after he was wounded by a silver weapon during a raid.
The antidote could indeed neutralize the potent poison—but the dosage had to be adjusted based on the silver’s purity.
It didn’t matter anymore.
I would never do anything for him again.