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.